♜ 2nd of November - Main Cabin Daily
480 words

Hey me from the future!
Is it the end of the month while you're reading this? The end of the year? Or is it two years later because you forgot that this existed?
First off, we'd like to talk about our goals for this session (I trust you'll get at least one of these done. Preferably all of them, though)

My main three goals are:
1. Do 10 word wars
2. Talk and get to know at least 3 other people in my cabin.
3. Write the first two chapters of my novel.

The first one is fairly easy, but in case you forget it might be best to set up some kind of schedule. Let's say… three word wars per week for three weeks, and one more that you can do whenever. Does that work? I'd love it if you could win a decent amount of these for me, but if not that's alright. The point is to do word wars, since we usually only do a few every session.

The second on is also pretty easy. There's tons of cool and interesting people on Adventure Island, and I'm sure they'd all be fun to talk to. Maybe try to get to know the ones you've never met before? Potential topics for conversation include current writing projects, what other camps they've been in, hobbies, and of course mangoes.

The third one is where it gets tricky. First you'd have to actually start the novel and stick with a plot. I recommend fleshing out your fairy tale retellings universe and characters, especially Red, and Cub, who are both in desperate need of character depth. Since we already have a basic plot down, just edit things to be more cohesive (maybe add an overarching antagonist) and you should be good to go. I'm thinking the first chapter focuses on Goldie (our protagonist) and her life in the Enchanted Forest. Second chapter can kickstart the plot and bring the main characters together.

You should probably also continue your fanfics. Figure out a basic plot for your Animator vs. Animation one and get started on TDS. Elimination order is the most important part of TDS, so do that soon. I know you're still missing a character or two, but just bring in a couple from That Show (you know the one). In the case of the AvA fic, start off with some regular shenanigans while threading in some plot hooks that will come into play later. Things like Rocket Corp., the sci-fi aspects, and stuff about Purple and/or King. Since this is supposed to be a proper story disguised as a regular human high-school type one, slowly build up the plot and keep going from there. Remember - go wild with your fics. There's nothing to be ashamed of.

Also, please tell me how Saturday's spelling bee goes.
Have fun!

- Your past self

♖ 1st of July - Main Cabin Daily
1,120 words

Hey everyone! Yes, it's me again. After a session and a half, I'm back and ready to write! Hopefully not to the point my fingers fall off. I swear that almost happened last time. We'll see. After such a long time away from SWC (7 whole months! That's more than half a year!), I'm so so glad to be back. There are so many new and familiar faces, and honestly I'm thrilled to see what you newbies will bring. I can already tell that this session is going to be so fun, especially during a certain war-related event that happens twice during the session - can you tell that the only thing on my mind right now is cabin wars?

As a refresher for those who already know me from past sessions and an introduction for those who I've just met, hi! My name is Lax, and I'm a camper from the amazing Folklore Fan Fest. If you'd like, you can also call me Laxy. I've been doing SWC for a while now, and this session marks my eleventh. It would've been my twelfth, but I skipped this year's March session because of exams. Honestly, it was probably for the best. Let's see, what other SWC-related things can I talk about… oh, right! I'm trying to plan ahead for the writing comp but I'm not sure what to write yet. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

I'm a high school student whose favourite classes are Science and Arts. By far my favourite science topic is genetics. Isn't it fascinating what different combinations of genetic traits can result in? Art is always fun, and I'm looking forward to seeing what this year's art teacher is going to be like. I used to be part of my school's journalism club. Fun fact, last year I ran for the student council! Didn't make it, but it was an interesting experience. Outside of school I do rock-climbing with a local group! I'm not the best in the group, but I'd say I'm pretty good at it regardless.

My favourite colour is red, but ironically most of my things are in blue. I have no idea why. My clothes, bed, bag, and bike are all blue for some reason? I swear I'm not doing this on purpose. Red is obviously the superior colour. Blue's just a peasant sniffing for scraps (kidding. Blue's a nice colour, I just prefer red). OH! My favourite food is frozen berries. Normal berries are fine, but frozen berries? Cold, refreshing AND the texture of normal berries but a little more dense. Is there any food less perfect? I once ate an entire bag of frozen berries by myself in one sitting and it was worth stomachache I got after.

Around camp, you'll probably see me goofing off with other campers in the Main Cabin, sending care packages filled with arson, mangoes, and cookies to other cabins (enemy cabins have a higher chance of receiving arson), rambling at length (about whatever topic chose to bless my mind with its presence that day), or being indecisive over things like whether or not to stay up late writing or to go to bed. You may also see me procrastinating over the weekly. Lax's Ramble Topics include: convergent evolution, speculative biology, unconventional methods of storytelling, what jam flavour each cabin tastes like, and my shower thoughts.

Aside from writing, I enjoy drawing art. You know how sometimes an idea comes to you in the form of a series of full-length novels? Well, sometimes I'm hit with an idea just like that - but in the form of a multi-season, fully animated series. And I just can't help but try to bring it to life! Lately I've been trying to push my art into a more cartoony, shape-y style. I'm a huge fan of character design, and when I'm not trying to design looks for my characters, I'm analysing the designs of characters from my favourite media. From shape language, to colour palette, fashion, and everything else that goes into a design!

Speaking of media, I happen to be in a lot of fandoms. Currently, my main ones are the Hatchetfield musical trilogy, Five Nights at Freddy's, Animator vs. Animation, and Arthuriana/Arthurian Legends. The lore of the Hatchetfield Trilogy is kind of insane and I love it. FNAF's incredibly vague storytelling has spawned a really unique fandom due to the lack of consensus on what's canon and what's not. In fact, I had so much fun analysing the fandom that I somehow became a part of it. For the record, I don't know how that happened either. I also recommend the completely dialogue-less Animation vs. web series! You should check it out.

As for books, I'm currently reading The Naturals by Jennifer Lyn Barnes. So far it's pretty good! There's some love triangle stuff that doesn't interest me much, but it's directly tied to the main plot, which I appreciate. It's a murder mystery, so if you're into that you should give it a read. The suspense and intrigue is built up well, and details are revealed slowly but not too sparingly - just enough to get us thinking and analysing all the clues as the main characters would. No comments on the ending, since I haven't finished it yet. Supposedly it's part of a series, so I'm thinking of getting my hands on those next.

When reading, my favourite genres are high fantasy, space-fi, and mystery. When writing, on the other hand… epistolaries. That's it. Writing them are so much fun - not only do you get to step into the minds of your characters and really write things from their perspectives, you have to take into account the worldbuilding that you've done, and how that's going to affect the form and contents of the epistolary you write. It also helps nail down your character's unique voice - their handwriting, punctuation, wording, and the phrases and euphemisms they might use. I personally love writing little in-character letters every once in a while, just for fun.

Is that a thousand words already? I think we're about a hundred words off, so for the final one hundred words let me just say that this is I think my first time actually doing a one-thousand word intro on time! I've written one before, but back then I couldn't get it done before the daily changed. I'll admit, it's a nice way to start my 11th session. Okay, now joke time (I'm so sorry for how corny this is): What did the squid say about the art display? It said, "this is inkredible!'. Anyways, that's all for my intro and first daily of the session! Happy SWC and Folklore FTW!

♖ 2nd of July, Main Cabin Daily
225 words

Hey there future me,

How was camp? I sure hope you’ve got all your thank you’s done. How many words did you end up writing? I’m thinking we should aim for at least 500 a day, so let me know how that works out. As for the writing comp, what did you end up writing? Whatever it was, please remember to get some critiques for it first. We want to enter our best and no less! I bet cabin wars was super fun. How many did our cabin finish? Did you cheer the cabin on hard enough?

Speaking of, how was the trip with our friends? What did you do there? Did anyone bring marshmallows? What about cards? If they did, I’m sure it was absolutely chaotic. You know how you get around cards (normal playing cards. Let’s not get into what happens when you play UNO).
Oh, and since this is for future me, you must have already started school. How is it so far? Are the teachers nice? How many subjects are there? No matter what it’s like, remember to stay positive and play it cool, Laxy-style. No one will resist your platonic wiles now!

Anyways, thank you for the past month and good luck. I’m proud of you for making it this far. Take it easy, have fun, and be you tomorrow!

♖ 3rd of July - Main Cabin Daily
643 words

In a realm far removed from ours, there is an island. And in the middle of that island, there is a kingdom of sand. Dunes rise and fall beyond its walls, stretching out as far as the eye can see. Its capital is nothing short of majestic - towering spires make up the royal palace, surrounded by domed roofs that are cast in the warm glow of a thousand lanterns. The other cities are equally breathtaking. There are few ways to travel safely between them, but the people of this kingdom are hard workers and as clever as they come. Soon, a great road stretches out from the capital. It cuts a glowing line straight through the desert. The rulers say it'll last forever.

Ten years pass in the blink of an eye.

Where the kingdom was mostly made up of towns and settlements, it is now a bustling network of cities dotted across the desert. The Great Road is larger than before, its sand flat and well-tread. Vendors and merchants clamour for the attention of travellers from the sides. The ruler of the kingdom, the 13th Lady, is charming, silver-tongued, and most of all smart. In just two days, foreigners will walk the Great Road into the capital for the first time in the kingdom's history. They hail from a world of nothing but trees, where metal is scarce. Luckily, the kingdom has more than enough to share.

Another ten years.

The Lady's efforts have bore fruit. Their pact with the forest folk has brought in more than just money - they now have access to herbs, crops, meats and wood that the harsh desert can't provide. And so each day there is something new. A toy for the wide-eyed children, crafted from the finest wood the forest had to offer; a dish, seasoned with a flower that could only be found on the tallest trees; even new fabrics, woven from fibres unobtainable within the sandy dunes. But whispers of trouble have made their way to the kingdom, bringing news of something dark brewing on the horizon. Not travellers, no- refugees.
“Seasand won't last long,” says one. “You may have the desert to protect you, but that won't stop them. Not this time.”

Ten years is all it takes.

Blood now taints the air. It seeps through the sand, the stench of it mixing with the smell of dust and clay so thoroughly it's almost as if it belongs. The Kingdom of Seasand has built its walls up even higher, yet bodies line its perimeter. Some are already dead; some will be soon. Fires blaze beyond the walls like a halo of war, blinding all who look through its cracks and holes. They are trapped, caged. No word has come from their allies in over a year. But perhaps if the sea-faring nation of the shore can lend its aid, all is not lost. So today the Lady prepares to go on another diplomatic trip - alone, for they cannot afford to draw attention. It will be her last.

A decade is not long enough to recover.

-But it doesn't stop them from trying. The current Lady of Seasand is freshly twenty but feels much older, for a childhood raised in war is no childhood at all. The danger from across the seas is gone, fought off by the combined might of the island's three nations. The decade-long storm gave way to rain and sun, washing away the flames and blood and dust. For the first time in a long while, people of the kingdom feel the soft embrace of hope. There's still work to be done. Hunger is cold and cruel and after ten years, there are still wounds to be healed. But the Great Road is open and lanterns are being lit once more.

Perhaps in another ten years, all will be well.

♖ The Arresting (Working Title)
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A single lamp lights up the room, its beam weak and flickering. On one side of a table is a faceless person in uniform. On the other, the subject of interrogation. Both sit on rickety steel chairs that screech with the slightest movement. It's a familiar scene at best and a stereotypical one at worst.

The interrrogater clears her throat. “I'm here to question you on the whereabouts of several missing persons recently spotted in your company. Now, are you or are you not Garett Fairchild, reported missing six months ago?”

♖ 4th of July - Main Cabin Daily
387 words

The Inventor wipes his brow and throws open his windows. Smoke billows out. Amidst the sparking of wires and the bustle of the city, someone calls out to him from down below.
“Keep it up, Inventor!” yells a portly man. The crowd about him choruses an agreement. “You're doing good work!”
The Inventor's face warms. “You've got it!” he shouts back, grinning madly.

The sun has long since set, yet somehow the streets are full of people. They dance about the pavement. They laugh in tune to the pumping of factory pipes. Their shoes go clickety-clack, their bracelets jingle and jangle. Every chime of the clock towers is a hiss of steam, is a distant bang, is a million sounds in chaotic harmony. They're the blood pumping through the city's copper veins - its very own circadian rhythm.

Even those not out on the street dance along. In a tower near the centre of the city, an Inventor hums a tune as he flits from contraption to contraption, each one the most bizarre mix of cogs and chemicals.
“Yes!” he cheers, throwing down his wrench. A steel robot shaped uncannily like a bee stutters to life in front of him. He pats it on the head, and then it's on to the next. An automatic potion brewer, sputtering incoherently. A playful snip of stray wires, and it begins to bubble.

And so it goes on. The Inventor turns a cog, adjusts a screw, sticks a little this here and removes a little that there, lost in a maze of his own wonderful creations. Eventually he reaches his magnum opus, and slows down for the first time in hours. Fingering his tools, he pops a panel open. With nimble fingers he rearranges the thing's inner mechanisms. Finally, he steps back, and-

-It explodes.
The Inventor wipes his brow. He throws open his windows. Smoke billows out. Amidst the sparking of wires and the bustle of the city, someone calls out to him from down below.
“Keep it up, Inventor!” yells a portly man. The crowd about him choruses an agreement. “You're doing good work!”
The Inventor's face warms. “You've got it!” he shouts back.

Glancing back at his masterpiece in progress, the electricity sizzles invitingly. A mad grin forms on the Inventor's face. He knows exactly what to do.

♖ 1st Weekly
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Part #1
609 words

Partnered with: @Airfairy934
Their piece:

Tiny rivers of water crawl out of the many nooks and crannies a patch of absorbent moss can provide for a little droplet. They connect together to form a perfect sphere, a small jewel that emerges from the moss becoming larger and larger until

drip

it falls.

It hurtles through the air past groves of moss that cultivate the sides of the cavern as their home, past clusters of crystals glowing faintly in the faux twilight provided by flickering torches and past windows carved lovingly into the rock with small excited peering faces. It is suddenly caught on a cold metal roof, the soft plink echoing into the room beneath. It collects teal rust as it spills down the corrugated surface which spins in the droplet turning it into a perfect marble that a child might try to eat when their parents aren’t watching.

After seemingly no time at all, it falls off , once again plummeting through the air past stained glass windows proclaiming miracles and congregations of fungi at the base of window sills. It races down, joining countless other droplets in a race to the mossy cavern floor before

“Mamma! Ma! I caught one!”

The helpless peals of excited laughter burst from the child’s mouth. They’re scooped up by one of their mothers and told sternly, but with sparkling eyes “ come now Poplin, we mustn’t get too distracted, we have to get to the market square.”
The six year old pouts “ but, but loooook!! My hand’s blue!”
Their Ma walks over to the two of them grinning, “Truffle, if we stayed to look at every blue droplet that came our way, we would be here until the end of our days.” seeing the child’s pout, she quickly adds “ you’re right though, it is very interesting. If we’re quick now, i’ll tell you about why they’re blue on the way home.”

Satisfied with the answer, Poplin starts playing with the rust staining their hand and by the time they get to the market, the three are all covered with the faint residue blue handprints leave behind.

10 years later.
317 words

Sixteen year old Poplin stands at the mouth of the cavern's entrance, hands coated in azure rust. The outside of the cavern is a raging storm of muddy skies, grey winds and sparks of white-hot flame. If they squint, they can almost see their Ma's silhouette within. A lone black figure standing steady amongst the chaos, reaching out a hand to ruffle their hair just as she always had.

“Hey, Ma,” Poplin murmurs. A sob crawls its way out of their throat, unbidden. “It's been a while, hasn't it? The survivors you found came back alright. Everything's going good, I think. There's always more people coming, but we're working hard and we have space…”

“I just- I miss what it was like before the big storm. I miss us. I miss you.” They wipe frantically at the waterfall dripping down their face, hiccoughing. “Where are you?”

Gingerly, they take a jar out of their rucksack. Its glass sides are spotless, cleaner than anything else in the earthy caverns they call home. The lid is a shining metal carved with intricate designs. In it are thousands of perfectly-preserved blue droplets, five years worth of collecting stacked up to the brim. It's worth everything Poplin owns and more still.
“For you,” they say, then turn to leave. “…Goodbye.”

They make their way home. It's stuffier than it was a decade ago, and even more cramped. Where ten years ago the smell of fresh moss and damp rock had filled each and every tunnel, now it reeks of smoke, dust, and hundreds of sweaty bodies. Starry-eyed children catch blue droplets left and right, then trail their hands on the walls in wonder. Poplin's eyes catch sight of the scars trailing up the children's arms and legs.

The storm outside is unforgiving, even to its survivors. If- when their Ma makes it home, will they even recognise her?


My piece:
292 words

The company building towers above everything else in the city. High above ground, employees hurry to and fro on suspended walkways that connect the various floors. Birds crash into its polished glass exterior. Automatic wipers shove their bodies off barely a second later, whirring as it cleanses the shiny surface of any remains. Screens of all shapes and sizes circle the buildings on mechanical arms, seeking out new customers and inviting back old ones with the millions of products on display.

Yet for all its glitz and glamour, a practical shack sits bravely beside it. Standing at a grand one-storey tall, its neon sign is off most of the time and flickering the rest. There are no glass display cases, no moving screens or fancy lights. Cheap lamps light up the wooden shelves, lopsided in the way only handmade furniture can be. The only employees of the store are the family that owns it.
The door creaks open.

“Sperke's Wares, all the tech you need!” greets the young woman at the counter. Wild hair an indescribable shade of red fans out behind her. “I'm Esila Sperke. What can I getcha?”
“I have a custom order.” The customer gazes at her below their hood. They slide a slip of paper over.
“Righto!” Esila claps. She reaches under the counter.

The item she brings out is sleek, molded metal in the shape of a fist. Each plate of metal is neatly placed and lined with a subtle crimson glow. Various buttons circle the wrist. The buttons are marked with icons - a miniature bomb, a small saw, a tiny flame, a minuscule drop of water. It's infinitely more advanced than anything their neighbouring tech company can produce.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Esila smirks gleefully.

♖ 9th of July - Main Cabin Bi-Daily (Late)
976 words

ordinary world:
In a town in the middle of nowhere, two roommates spend their time annoying each other and going about their daily business. The older of the two is Grace, who is set on exploring every bit of land surrounding their rinky-dink town, recording any animal, landmark, or location that seems even remotely interesting. The younger is Anjani, who could care less about Grace's endeavours and would prefer to read books in peace.

call to action:
Grace goes on one of the furthest trips she's ever been on, far beyond the outskirts of town. It's a long trek, but she is determined to make it by foot. Before she leaves, she hands her roommate a GPS tracker of her location.Two days pass - the tracker doesn't seem to be active and there's no sign of Grace. One morning, an anxious Anjani checks her phone to see a text:
You have to see this.
The tracker flickers on for the first time in days.

refusal of call:
Anjani's worries have been replaced by irritation. At Grace, for being irresponsible and not sending news earlier. At herself, for caring so much about what her roommate does in her spare time. She ignores the text, but as more days pass with no word from her roommate, she gives in to curiosity and goes after her.

meeting the mentor:
It's a long way to the ancient ruins that Grace was looking for, but Anjani makes it. There, she finds a clockwork robot holding Grace's GPS. Thanking her for coming, it tells her that Grace has gotten lost in time. It brings her to a large lake in the centre of the ruins.

crossing the first threshold:
The lake actually serves as a portal through time. Anjani and the clockwork robot make their way through as the robot tells her about its function. Anjani is nervous, reluctant - but the thought of Grace in danger pushes her to go through. They come out in what seems to be past.

tests, allies, enemies:
Anjani and the clockwork robot rush through the bustling, thriving capital of a kingdom that would become the ancient ruins, encountering the city's guards, various roguish characters keen on rifling through their things, the city's ruling family, and even the clockwork robot's creator. Along the way, they find several of Grace's items: a camera, parts of a map, hair clips, her compass, and finally her journal.

approach to the inmost cave:
Grace's journal leads them through the city, giving them a look inside her thought process as she tried to uncover the mystery of the ruins and the time lake-portals. According to the journal and some stolen books, the kingdom was built on the territory of a dragon the king had killed. Eventually, it leads them to the palace's basement and the mouth of a massive cavern directly under it.

ordeal:
As they make their way into the cavern, they find a juvenile dragon, hissing and spitting rage-filled fire. It guards the largest time lake they've seen yet. In the middle of the lake is a large gemstone the size of a building. Anjani panics and almost flees. But before she can, she catches sight of a large cage hanging suspended from the ceiling. Inside it is Grace. Battered, bruised, and possibly concussed and/or delirious, but alive. Filled with renewed determination and a sense of satisfaction at how far she's made it, Anjani, the clockwork robot, and some of their previous allies face down the dragonet.

The reward:
With the dragonet knocked out and sleeping and the gemstone destroyed, Anjani rescues Grace from the cage. Though Grace is still barely conscious, they share a joyful reunion. In the cage they also find a bottle of time lake liquid. Together, they bid their allies goodbye and leave through the time portal with the clockwork robot in tow.

return:
As the trio whirl through time, a figure reaches into the time stream and wrenches them out. Spluttering, Anjani, Grace, and the robot wake in the palace courtyard to hundreds of the king's knights surrounding them, sword pointing at their throats from all sides. Their allies are restrained behind him, even the prince. The king demands for them to hand over the bottle of time as he reveals the truth: the kingdoms are built on the corpse of the dragon he killed. The time lakes are its frozen pools of blood, the gemstone in the cavern was its heart, and only time liquid purified by the heart can slow the curse the dragon put on him. Now that the gemstone is destroyed, Grace's bottle of time is the only bit left.

resurrection:
They realise the only thing that can stop the king is time liquid, that also grants its user full access to the time stream. Despite her condition, Grace moves to down it- but Anjani gets there first. What ensues is a battle through time, the king giving chase to Anjani while she leads him out of the palace and into the kingdom. They catch glimpses of other timelines, of moments from the past. For a moment, it looks like the king might win. But he is old, and the curse weakens him. Just as the effects of the time liquid the king drank begin to wear off, she lures him to the cavern, traps him in the cage, snaps the chain connecting it to the ceiling, and sets the dragonet on him. At last, there is no way for him to escape.

return with elixir:
Once the effects of her bottle of time wear off too, Anjani frees the dragonet and makes her way back up to the courtyard, where she gets the knights to stand down and let go of her allies. Leaving their ally the prince in charge of the kingdom, Anjani, Grace, and the robot go back to their time. They part ways with the robot at the ruins and return home, now on much better terms. Anjani and Grace apologise and promise to have each others' backs.

♖ 10th of July - Main Cabin Bi-Daily
573 words

Outline by @SuperNaturalPages
Stage: Resurrection
Xaiden has three days to escape. Will he make it? He does, escaping with the help of his cousin, Silas.

Xaiden fell to his knees as he was kicked inside, his back hunched, his arms trembling. He tried to find the words to plead. Each was choked by his thumping heart and tight lungs. Gone was the confidence with which he stood on the podium as he announced the cure's discovery. His ever pristine lab coat lied in tatters on the floor, his gold-rimmed glasses cracked and dusty.

“You're no bringer of our salvation,” spat his guard. “You're a pariah. A murderer. You deserve this.”
Xaiden shivered on the floor. “I-”
The door slammed shut.
Drawing himself to his knees, Xaiden wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the permanent chill of steel. The cell wasn't big, only a few paces in each direction. Cameras peeked out from gaps in the room's metal plating. The only thing that brought light was a fancy screen in the wall showing the location of his execution. A timer ticked steadily above it. The door was practically invisible.

-

At least on Earth I had people to live for, Xaiden mused a day later. He dragged himself to the corner with a groan, unable to do anything more than tilt his head back and close his eyes. Hunger gnawed at his stomach. Pain seized his head with every movement. He'd been on his feet for so long. Always working, searching, adapting, making plan after plan. Even after he'd found the cure, it had been an endless string of important meetings and nights cooped up in the lab.
Yet despite Xaiden's efforts, all of his work had crashed and burned anyway. All of it was for nothing.
What else could he do but await his fate at Mars' greatest public execution?

As he stared at the timer counting down to his death, Xaiden was gripped with a sudden desperation. He pulled himself to his feet on newborn legs. He couldn't die. It couldn't end like this - all of it, ashes and dust. It had to be worth it. It had to. He began darting around in a panicked frenzy, searching for any way out. Untrimmed fingernails scraped at the place where the door should be. Shoeless feet kicked at the cameras in the walls. All while muttering a mantra:
“There has to be a weak spot somewhere… please, please…. there has to-”

The beeping of the timer grew louder in his ears. Only this time, it was accompanied by… banging? Xaiden shook his head. There was no time for auditory hallucinations.
A second later, the screen and the wall behind it were blown to pieces.

“We have to go-” said Silas, holding the largest blaster he had ever seen. “-now.”
This has to be a dream. Xaiden took his cousin's hand with shaking fingers. In his grip it felt strong, and steady. A pillar of stability for him to finally hold on to.

“I don't understand,” he croaked, once both were seated in the spaceship and kicking off with a spark of the engines.
“I'm sorry I didn't realise it sooner,” Silas said in lieu of an answer. “I couldn't just let you go like that, especially once I knew.”
"Knew what, Silas?“
The astronaut sighed. ”How bad it really is down on Earth. We have a lot of work ahead of us if we're going to do something about it.“
A thousand grateful words piled up in Xaiden's throat. Yet all he managed was, ”…Thank you, Silas."

♖ 11th of July - Main Cabin Daily
243 words

{Janet Banks}
0/5 stars. Is there anyone I can contact regarding product safety? According to the manual, this product should toast my sofa exactly the right amount for me to eat! When I tried it out for the first time, it swallowed my sofa instead and now the toaster is way bigger than it was before. I searched online and found lots of people with the same problem. It's not supposed to do this! How will I toast my sofas now? For your information, that was a state-of-the-art mixed leather sofa. Now it's gone! I'm going to be needing a refund.

{upvote} {downvote}
Replies –>
{Vincent Superior} the toasting of sofas is a delicate art that few pieces of technology can manage so seamlessly. of course, i wouldn't dare expect a f00l such as you to understand that. your simple mind cannot comprehend the manipulation of electricity to heat used to toast a sofa. this product is a work of perfection. it is utterly flawless and therefore the b|ame lies on you for being unable to see that!
{Eileen W.} I am so sorry about the above reply. You just need to give it some time, and then it should shrink back down and pop your toasted sofa out
{Janet Banks - original poster} I don't care! They should have put it on the manual. I still want a refund.
{Eileen W.} It's definitely on the manual.

♖ 2nd Weekly
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Part #1
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Thread chosen: here
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Part #2
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Blurb written (__ words):
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Blurb chosen: ‘insert blurb’ (@-)

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Part #3
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♖ The Fazbear Entertainment CEO - Writing Comp Fanfic Entry
1,579 words

Throughout the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise, Fazbear Entertainment has been always been present as the animatronic franchise. Originally founded by WIlliam Afton and Henry Emily, and supposedly liquidated after a fire in the sixth game, it has somehow come back more powerful than ever. Modern Fazbear Entertainment as seen in the Steel Wool era games is the classic corrupt company intent on cutting costs and making money. And let's face it - chances are, we'll probably never see exactly who is behind the company and its success. They're just that - a faceless corporate entity.

However, if we were to establish a character as Faz Ent's CEO, I have no doubt that a certain Samuel Emily is the best choice. In the games, his character is vaguely canon. Several old files of Puppet-related game elements used male pronouns, indicating that maybe the soul possessing them was originally meant to be a boy and not a girl like Charlie Emily, the one who ended up possessing the Puppet animatronic in canon. In the books, Sammy Emily is her twin brother who survives the murders at Freddy's despite Charlie's memories being altered to think he was dead. As you can see, he's not exactly a complete canon foreigner. There's enough pre-existing foundation for Sammy's character that inserting him in the games wouldn't be too jarring, especially if you go the route of having him be the only Afton/Emily kid to survive and live a relatively normal life.

Keeping in mind that the lore of Five Nights at Freddy's is largely built on speculation, there's a lot of ways you could take it. We have no idea what Sammy does in the books after he moved away during his father Henry's divorce, which gives us a lot of freedom to work with. What's more, he has the potential for a sufficient and (frankly deliciously angsty) motivation for bringing back Fazbear Entertainment. Picture this, for example: you're Sammy Emily, a literal child ranging from five years old to somewhere in your tweens depending on how you place his age (and if you think he and Charlie should stay twins or not). Your (possibly twin) sister has just been brutally murdered in the back alley of your father and godfather/uncle figure's eating establishment. It's a drive-by murder - there's barely any evidence aside from stab wounds, and the rain has ruined anything else that might have been useful for tracking down her murderer.

Your father is distraught. Like, the absolutely devastated and probably unresponsive kind of distraught. Your uncle William attempts to comfort both him and you, but there's always a glint in his eye that makes you think he's less genuine than he lets on. Somewhere around a few months to a year later, more kids begin to disappear around the pizzeria. They're all around the same age your sister was when she was… taken away. The animatronics smell weird, your cousin Michael Afton is still irreversibly scarred by a separate incident back in 1983, and your other cousin Elizabeth isn't handling it all that well either.

Your father throws himself into his work. Especially with the rising legal troubles he's facing from the missing children incident. He never seems to stop mourning Charlie. Every day he stares at her room, obsessively takes care of the Security Puppet animatronic that had been found trying to shield her, and not once has he looked at you. His eyes are always downcast. He never smiles anymore. He comes home from work later and later, smelling of oil and machinery and burnt hair. At first you check up on him every once in a while. Most of the time he's asleep. The rest of the time he doesn't really seem to see you. You stop eventually. You learn to cook your own dinners, to clean the house because at this point the Parts and Services room is more his home than his house is, to keep up with your homework and catch the bus to school or walk or drive when you can't.

Somewhere along the way, grief turns into anger. You get it, you really do. You miss Charlie. You wish she were here. But he hasn't said more than a few words to you in all that time; doesn't he remember he has a son too? You've had to sort through all your feelings on Charlie's death on your own. You've had to clean the house and leave every single thing of Charlie's untouched because your father just can't let go. Sometimes your father has days where it's almost like Charlie never meant missing. Where he's actually a dad. It never lasts.

Your cousin Elizabeth goes missing at Circus Baby's Pizza World. It's just you and Michael now. You were never all that close to begin with and now it feels like you're in two completely different worlds.

Your Uncle WIlliam is arrested for the murders of the missing children and your own sister. Your father has a yelling match with him through the phone (it's the most words you've heard him say since she died), then dives even further into legal work for the franchise. The network calls. The Freddy and Friends TV show is cancelled. You've been staying at your Aunt Jen's house more and more. At least she knows you exist. At least she goes to PTA meetings, makes you food, smiles at you, gives you hugs, and cares.

It's 1987. It's a rare night when both of you are home. A knock comes at the door, and suddenly Michael is having a breakdown on the front steps. Your father rushes over immediately. He rubs Michael's back with gentle hands, envelops him in a tight hug, whispers to him words of comfort, and makes him tea with tea bags that you bought. The next day you pack up your things and haul them all the way to Aunt Jen's house on bike.

Over 30 years pass, and you work hard to make your freedom from your father worth it. You get yourself a stable job, where you learn what people listen to and how to make them listen to you. Your Aunt Jen passes away, your father disappears from public view to keep operating the Fazbear franchise from the shadows. You've haven't seen hide nor hair of Michael since Circus Baby's Rentals shut down. At first you think he's out of state, or gone back to Britain. Then another Freddy's Pizza pops up and they're both seen for the first time in over three decades. Michael is quieter, more solemn. Your father seems at peace and has a hand on Michael's shoulder encouragingly. It makes your blood boil.

Nearing the end of the week, your father shows up at your doorstep. He tries to apologies and tries to explain his plan for the new Pizza Place - something about unfinished business, getting rid of William once and for all, freeing souls, and ending the Fazbear franchise for good. You slam the door in his face. How dare he? How dare he think he can make up for a lifetime of abandonment? That he can slave away working at the company and suddenly drop it just like that? All those nights you spent alone, the graduation spent watching your classmates with their families while you stood in a corner, the times when he was too busy mourning to take care of himself so you had to be the one to do it… is this what all of this was for?

By the next day, the pizza place has burned down and your anger has given way to spite. With what power you have as the sole living heir of the founders, you wrestle control over the company. It's no trouble, really. If there's one good thing about a family such as yours, it's growing up surrounded by engineers and business-owners. You're as clever as any other Afton-Emily is. Maybe more, since you actually lived to go to college. And most of all, you know an opportunity when you see one.

Your father's dying wish was for Fazbear Entertainment to fade into the past. The first thing you decide as the new CEO is that this franchise, these characters, will live on forever. You're more open than any other owner has been. You go to meetings, make public appearances, build up trust in your capabilites. You notice the tragic history of Freddy Fazbear's is the perfect thing to take advantage of. So you make advertisements, propaganda, and more. You hire only the best and replace the rest. Who cares if you're cutting a few costs? With your guidance, Fazbear Entertainment become flashy, and bright, and most importantly memorable. It's greater than anything your father and uncle ever had.

Ahem. I may have gotten a little carried away. But as you can see, Sammy is simultaneously just enough of a blank slate and pre-established enough to fit right in as the CEO of Fazbear Entertainment. He has connections to the founders and main characters. He has a reason to become CEO. For spite is a powerful motivator and if he were to exist in the games, I imagine Sammy would have more than enough. He is bitter, and angry, and maybe not specifically endorsing the creation of murderous animatronics but… if something goes wrong, who cares, really? He's not the one affected.

As long as they cover it up, it'll all be fine.

My Different Fairy Tales (name subject to change) universe is a collection of stories about fairy tale characters. In this world, most fairy tales take place in the same world, if not the same location. We follow the rewritten stories of Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, and Goldilocks and the Three Bears, as well as what becomes of their protagonists when they meet each other within the depths of the Enchanted Forest.

The Enchanted Forest in this world is a mysterious, sentient forest filled to the brim with magic. Magical creatures roam its twisting paths. Its trees can sense the intentions of all within it. No one is sure exactly how much land it covers - it's either larger than it looks on the outside or quite literally infinite. For all the citizens of the Fairy Tale World know, it could even transcend dimensions. After all, it's the exact same Enchanted Forest as in all of those stories, from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves to the stories of our protagonists.

Speaking of our protagonists, our protagonists are the titular Hansel and Gretel, Red (Riding Hood), Goldilocks, and Baby Bear (named Cub Bear in this). Our main characters are Hansel, Red, and Goldilocks. In this story Hansel and Gretel spent more time with the Candy Witch, enough for her to teach Hansel magic and for the siblings to have a big argument after her death leading to Hansel staying and Gretel going home. Red is a young werewolf who was bitten that fateful trip to Grandma Hood's house. Goldilocks ran away/was kicked out of her home and adopted by the Bears.

In the present, Hansel is the Enchanted Forest's local magic baker and candy mage, Gretel is a woodcutter and carpenter like their father, Red is a sort of guide for people new to or lost within the Enchanted Forest, and Goldilocks is enjoying her childhood with her brother Cub. Red occasionally serves as a Guardian for the Forest. The main characters meet during a chance meeting at the Candy Hut, and from there Gretel and Cub also get pulled into the mix. Things are complicated at first. There's a lot of baggage that's been left unsaid gets laid bare. Luckily, they all sort through it.

Now, this is where I started thinking of adding a new character or two to the story. Specifically, a whole group of them. Not to become main characters or join the protagonists, no - that would be too large a cast to handle. But perhaps some sort of recurring side characters. Not in the spotlight and at most the focus of a single arc, but still more present than the usual background characters. If the group needed outside help, these are the characters they'd call. If they ever left the Forest and properly went into town, these are the people who's greet them.

I decided to combine this idea with the idea of creating more individual arcs for each protagonist. These new characters could be some sort of foil to them, as well as provide them with interactions outside the usual group. And who exactly are these new characters, you ask? Well, they're none other than Kai and Gerda from the Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen, Marlinchen and her brother from The Juniper Tree, and the Tin Woodsman from the Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum.

I'd known since I first made this universe that I wanted the Snow Queen duo to be involved somehow, and it was only now that I found exactly what to use them for. Kai and Gerda have made it home from the Snow Queen's palace. They're all grown up. Kai has lost years of his childhood to the Snow Queen and he knows he'll never really escape from the effects of being in a Fae of her power's company. He's a teacher in the local village struggling to reconnect to humanity and start living again. Meanwhile Gerda is also struggling to readjust after journeying for so long. All the people she knows barely recognise her, and her friendship with Kai is being affected by both of their struggles. She's set up an inn in the village outskirts so that other travellers won't need to know the uncertainty that she faced on her own journey.

The siblings from the Juniper Tree were a little harder to pin down, but I was really satisfied when I decided to use them. Their fairy tale is less well known, but tragic nonetheless. I haven't yet written how different their story is in this universe compared to their real life counterparts, but I do know some things. Marlinchen's brother (who I've named Wren) is still a bird and can only be understood by his family. This frustrates him. He's also still experiencing some mixed feelings regarding what happened with his step-mother. Marlinchen's father has not taken any of the things that happened to them any better, and Marlinchen herself is dealing with serious guilt and lots of moral quandaries.

First off, yes. I know the Wizard of Oz is not a fairy tale. I needed someone who would have something in common with a certain woodcutter girl, and who'd have enough existing background and personality that writing him wouldn't be too difficult. At first I considered the Huntsman from Snow White, but I didn't think he'd be able to bond well with Gretel, so in the end I chose Tin Man. The Tin Man is a character from a far off land/another realm, who's travelling around searching for an old friend in a gingham dress. No, America does not exist in this universe. Kansas is just some magicless place somewhere. And for once in this lineup, he's the one offering guidance and advice for his main protagonist counterpart.

Speaking of, Marlinchen and Wren are quite clearly foils to Goldilocks and Cub. Marlinchen and Goldilocks had known each other once upon a time, back when Goldilocks still lived in town. They weren't close, but they were friendly. When they meet again after everything, Goldilocks is at first delighted to see another duo of siblings of different species, but soon enough she realises that how miserable their family is after Marlinchen confides in her.

Kai is a foil to Red. Both were permanently, irreversibly changed when they were younger, and to this day both are still dealing with the consequences. Red is forcibly changed into a violent, senseless creature every full moon and will never be able to go outside the Forest again without being followed by prejudice. Kai is mildly allergic to iron, attracts stares everywhere he goes, automatically makes people who pay attention to him uncomfortable around him, is physically frosting, and hasn't been in contact with society for a decade. Red helps him come to terms with his situation and move past it.

That leaves Gerda to be a foil to Hansel. They're both incredibly kind, incredibly lost, and optimistic to the point of denial. Gerda was left behind by a mirror-affected Kai after a nasty argument and spent the entirety of her childhood telling herself he wasn't gone, that she'd find him and everything would be okay again. Now that they're back together and things are different, she has no idea what to do. Hansel chose to completely bury his feelings and memories of his family away and tell himself that everything was fine. That he was happy. And yet every time he went out he couldn't shake the hope that he'd see Gretel. When they really did see each other again, it was nowhere near a happy reunion. Using his experiences, he helps Gerda with all of her unresolved problems.

All in all, that's a quick rundown of my new additions to the Different Fairy Tales roster.

As she sits in the damp cell of the Witch's castle with nothing but Toto for company, Dorothy begins to feel like she's missing something. It started with the way Glinda says ‘The Witch’, a tone that seems halfway between mournful, defiant, and affectionate. Then it was the Scarecrow, who wouldn't say her name at all, only an emphasized “She”. It could've been fear, Dorothy supposed, though it was a tad too longing to be that. It was all such stark contrast to the way the Tin Man spat her name like some kind of disease, hatred burning in his heartless chest.

♖ 16th of July - Main Cabin Daily
__ words
Tropes: Lover, Tragedy, Surrounded by Friends/Allies, Ambiguity

The lady at the

17th of July - Main Cabin Daily
480 words

“Mama, look- it’s a puppy!”
Six year old Louis is walking with his mother when a dog trots past, its back legs severed from its body. A blue-grey sheen coats its sandy fur.
His mother laughs her signature little cackle. iThe joys of childhoodi. She ruffles his hair.
“What’s it look like, Little Lou?”
He scrunches his nose up at the nickname. “It’s got weird legs.”

.

Ten year old Louis enters his school’s hall on Bring Your Pet To School Day and is immediately accosted by his best friend. In her arms is a cage with a plump-cheeked guinea pig inside.
“Isn’t he cute?” She squeals, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The guinea pig looks likely to pee itself at the sudden shaking, only made worse when a cat meows at his friend’s side and it shrinks into itself even more.

“Kinda,” says Louis. He sticks a finger through to pet the little thing. It tries to bite him. He blows a raspberry in reply. “Is that one yours too?”
The fluffy tabby cat wound around Maisie's leg shoots him a venomous look. Unlike some other animals he's seen, this one seems relatively normal save for the dull desaturation that seems to colour everything it touches. It wears a golden collar littered with pink glitter.
Maisie frowns, glancing down. “Where?”
“That one! Around your leg!”
“There's nothing there…”
“Didn't you see it?” Louis watches the cat slink away. “Grey, stripey, blue eyes. Yellow collar and pink sparkly bits on it?”
His friend pauses. Trembling hands loosen her grip on her hamster cage. She swallows thickly. “…That sounds like my old cat…”

Louis recoils in disbelief, nose wrinkling. That couldn't be true. Maisie's cat had died before they met. In fact, it had been one of the first things they bonded over.
Raking his gaze through the room, Louis notices all the strange little blue-tinted animals winding around their owners' limbs, perched on their shoulders, or crawling into their palm that the owners themselves pay no mind to. Some of the pets are bone thin, scratched and battered, or missing body parts. He shivers.

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Twelve year old Louis sneaks out of his house the night before his birthday. He crawls under the hedge to the house behind and heads straight for the dog kennel in the corner of the yard. The dog died this morning, or so its owners say. When he peeks inside, the pooch is right there, napping. Its aura taints the inside of the kennel a series of monochromatic greys and blacks.
“I can see ghosts,” Louis murmurs, reaching out to pet it. Its fur barely feels solid. “I can see ghosts.”
Only of pets though, he adds as an afterthought. So much for a cool power.

Standing out, he spares the kennel one last look.
I'll help you all move on. I promise.

♖ 3rd Weekly
__ words in total

Part #1
660 words

“Why do you even need these?” asked Coda, shuffling through the mess of papers on his friend's floor. Pictures of Web Tech employees stared up at him, as well as news articles ranging from ancient to just-released, interview transcripts, and various miscellaneous files. The mastermind behind it all grinned.
“Because that's where loads of people go wrong,” Aleph said proudly. With a click of his mouse, a screen mounted to his wall flickered on. “It's always good to have a physical copy on you that people can't get to. Like those, or my flash drive,”

Nodding, Coda began to place the pictures aside. The faces in them all held the same hard frown and furrowed eyebrows, like they were looking at a particularly unpleasant bug instead of a camera. He shivered, imagining his sister surrounded by these people. Her wild hair tamed and her cheeky laughter silenced. He hoped she was okay.

.

Esila strode past the great glass doors of the Web Tech company building with a determined glint in her eye and a ratty briefcase in hand. Narrowed eyes turned towards her, but she held her head high. Challenging them to remark upon her faded clothes, the frayed edges of her coat, and the colourful bracelet she wore on her right wrist.

“Morning!” she greeted, striding up to the receptionist's marble desk. She slid a sheaf of documents out of the briefcase.
“…What can I do for you?” they asked, looking her up and down.
“I'm here for the nine o'clock meeting with the big boss,”
“Oh!” the receptionist's eyes widened. “Right this way, Miss…”
“Sperke.” She nodded. Gingerly, the receptionist stepped out from behind the desk, accidentally brushing Esila's arm.

They led her down a corridor, just as bleached and white as the rest of the building. It was deafeningly silent. Each step echoed along the hallway as the hairs on Esila's neck rose. Where were all the people? She held her briefcase closer to her body. Her free hand was in a pocket, fingering the only weapon she had brought. As they made their way through, a security camera flickered to life in the corner of her eye.
“Excuse me, c-” before she could finish that sentence, a burning sensation sped up the back of her arm.

The same arm the receptionist had touched. Her briefcase clattered to the ground. The receptionist was babbling into their headset, her head was spinning, her body was numb, and Esila could only stare at the tiny chip on her hand in horror as she staggered backwards. The camera swivelled towards her.

.

“Codes, come here and look,” said Aleph, darting for the screen he'd just turned on a few minutes ago. The camera feed was a little blurry and hacking into it had been harder due to Web Tech security, but it was functional and most of all it was currently showing-
“Esila!” Coda cried. He shoved his friend aside, wringing his hands with more than his usual nervousness. At that moment, the Esila on the screen dropped her briefcase with a crash. She stumbled and fell to her knees, staring at her hand. He gasped, going stock still. His flailing limbs went limp. Hesitantly, Aleph reached out and squeezed his shoulders.
“-Coda? Coda, come back to me. Codes?”

A speaker on the desk crackled on. It was the receptionist. “Sir! I have the Sperke girl, sir, but she's- she's not responding. I think there must be some kind of problem with the toxin. It's only supposed to paralyze, but-”
Another voice spoke, this one much smoother and calmer. “The dose must have been more potent than we realised. Bring her to me. And-”

Coda slammed a hand onto the speaker. The voices cut off. His heart pounded and his knees shook as a million worries for his sister whirled through his mind.
Face pale, he grabbed his jacket then shakily made for the door. “I have to go help her.”

♖ 19th of July - Main Cabin Daily
341 words (submitted w/o proof)

“Greetings, fellow notebooks.” says a bright teal notebook. Its covers are striped with white and a black ribbon falls at a jaunty angle from its spine. “I stand before you here today as a representative of the House of Lax's notebooks to deliver a very important message.”
A hush spreads over the crowds, pages fluttering in confusion, dog ears flapping up and down. Notebooks of all kinds stand present in front of the stage - leather-bound and hardcover, thick and thin, big and small. They whisper amongst themselves. Its papers are neat, its corners just barely squished. What could this well kept hardcover possibly have to say?

“Ahem,” the notebook clears its throat. The crowd falls quiet as the spotlight shines on it. “As I was saying, I am here right now to represent the House of Lax's notebooks. For as good a condition we might seem to be in, if you were to peek inside our pages you would see something completely different.”

For a moment it flaps open. Black scrawls cover its pages from edge to edge.
“For so long, Lax has not been using us for our intended purpose. Instead of writing in us, taking notes or writing stories just as they're doing right now… they have been drawing in us. They simply cannot resist the urge. Above each title, scribbled in every corner, even on pages that are supposed to be fully alphabetical.” The notebook sighs gravely.

“In between each line of their notes they doodle with a little black pen. In fact, that same pen and its relatives are being held on trial back there at this very moment.” The notebook looks up this time, the faintest glimmer of hope shining in its eyes. This is something it has yearned for a long time; justice for a crime that has gone and will go unpunished.
Suddenly, someone begins shouting. A figure in a hood fights their way through the crowd. As they approach the stage, their hood falls back. The assembled notebooks gasp.

“Objection!” shouts the human.