Daily for Fairy tales, March 6th, +250

Introduction
Congrats on opening the first cookbook I've ever written! I'm starting this to document everything I cook on this camping trip. I might even add some recipes my friends make, who knows. Consider this a guide on what to eat on a five-day camping trip, with budgeting already factored in. But you probably picked this up to read some recipes for your camping trip, not listen to a two hundred word blurb about my backstory. So without further ado:
Day One, Breakfast
Scrambled eggs and toast
Ingredients: One half-stick butter, three eggs, pepper, salt, (Optional) sriracha, bread
Instructions: Put your pan of choice on your fire, use the grill that should be provided by your campsite to hold the pan.Spread butter across the pan so the eggs won't stick. Put away butter you haven't used for spreading on your toast later. Crack eggs and pour the eggs into a separate bowl. Mix. Pour the eggs onto the pan. If your pan is too small, pour in a few smaller amounts instead of the whole bowl. Add salt and pepper to taste. Use a spatula to make sure all the eggs get cooked, breaking the egg with your spatula and turning them around. Once fully cooked, place the eggs on a plate of their own. Salt, sriracha and pepper to taste. Clean pan or put a new pan on the grill. Put bread on the grill. Flip bread. Once cooked to taste, scoop with spatula onto a plate. Use butter to season. Enjoy!

Day One, Lunch
BLT
Ingredients: Bacon, lettuce, tomato, bread.
Instructions: Place pan on your grill.Place bacon on your pan. Flip over occasionally. Once cooked, set on bread. Cut your lettuce and tomatoes. place them on the bread. Voila! A delicious sandwich.
Day One, Dinner
Hot dogs
Ingredients: Hot dog, hot dog bun, ketchup, mustard
Instructions: Put your hot dog on a long, sharp, spear-like stick. Burn the first one. Feed it to your friends dog they took along for some reason. Place this stick near the fire. Get a hotdog bun. Once your hotdog is cooked, scoop it off the sharp stick with your bun. Shake your ketchup. Squirt it onto your hot dog. Shake the mustard. Squirt it onto the hotdog. Eat!
Day One, Dessert
S'mores
Ingredients: Marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate
Instructions: Clean your sharp sticks. Smush your marshmallow onto it. Either toast till golden-brown, or get impateint and burn it becuase it's still yummy.

Day Two, Breakfast
Miso soup
Ingredients: Water, instant miso soup packet, cilantro
Instructions: Get out your tea pot, and place it on the grill. Wait until it's just boiling. Pour it into a mug(s). Add instant miso soup. Cut cilantro. Add to taste.
Day Two, Lunch
Wraps
Ingredients: Tortilla, (All optional) bacon, lettuce, tomato, egg, cilantro, hot dog, sriracha, other
Instructions: Get your tortilla of choice and place it on a pan. Put the pan on the grill. Warm up the tortilla and gently toast it on both sides. Scoop it up onto a plate. Add any leftovers you think would taste good in it, or make something new to put in it! Once you have filled the tortilla, take the top of the tortilla (Where the line of ingredients point to) and fold it in about two inches or so. Fold the bottom this way as well. hold the folds down and use your thumbs to roll one side tightly to the other. Hold. Whichever side is least structurally sound, eat first. Yum!
Day Two, Dinner
More hotdogs! You're camping for Christ's sake!
Ingredients: See 'hotdogs'
Instructions: See ingredients.
Day Two, Dessert
Oreos and cocoa
Ingredients: Double-stuffed Oreos, water, Hershey's Chocolate Syrup, mini marshmallows
Instructions: Open Double-stuffed Oreos. Boil water in tea pot and pour water into a mug. Drizzle chocolate syrup to taste. Use a spoon to mix. Add mini-marshmallows on the top. Dip Oreos into the cocoa. Delicious!






. . . What happened?
I don't- I just woke up. I'm at a campsite? I'm bleeding. Everything hurts. I don't see anyone around me. What happened? I already wrote that. I think writing in this might help me stay sane. Humans are bad at staying sane without others. How do I know that?
I've already read this book. I don't see any of those things around. It's all in ruins. I'm walking around the campsites now. There are camper vans . . . Trailers . . . Was that a tent? I can't tell anymore. It's just a zipper and some burnt orange cloth. I found this at campsite 27, I believe that's what it was. I've been collecting books in a backpack I found at campsite 13. I woke up at 7. I'm trying to find a watch. Or survivors, if that's possible. I'm not sure if ‘woke up’ is the right word. I didn't have any dreams. I don't feel rested, that's for sure. I don't know how I got here. Or how I know proper grammar. Or what a Double-stuffed Oreo tastes like. Or most things, really. I just passed 31. It's hard to write and walk at the same time. I think I'm going to set this down for a moment. Maybe bandage my wounds. Try to find bandages. Bye.

I laughed, smiling at the girl in front of me.
“I'm glad I met you Ren,” I kissed her.
She leaned into the kiss and smiled.
I took in the cherry scent of her perfume and sighed.
“Um- You know how we have-”
“Have?” she smiled, laughing at the mess on my bed.
“That plant project?”
“The one that I already finished?” she smirked but the groaned slightly under her breath.
“So… Want to go for a walk later?” I asked, pretending not to hear that.
“To do that project that I finished?”
“Yes?”
“Stupid, come on, let's go,” she grabbed my hand and we ran out of the door. We slowly made our way down the street, she was panting slightly more than usual. As we passed the ice cream store, I pulled her inside.
“We're getting it. I'll pay, since your broke,” I smirked. “But you have to pay me back later.”
She gave me a hug and handed me her lipstick, the one that I had always wanted,
“There. Now I don't owe you anything anymore.”
“Very funny, but thanks,” we went up to the counter and ordered. Once we had paid and left, we continued making our way to the park.
We were crossing the street, she fell. On the ground. The car right in front of us called Emergency and I tried to use the CPR to bring her back, but it was too late. I knew this, she was going to die. The cup of ice cream sat on the road, perfect, nothing touching it. I reached over to it and picked it up, leaving mine next to her in the hospital room.
+279 words

The Software Life Cycle (1071 words)

// START

//////////////////// Initialize variables ////////////////////

// Set myName to “iPal”

// Set day to 0

// Set friend to “”

// Set friendAge to 1

// Display a greeting message to the user.

// Ask what the user’s name is.

// Set friend to the user’s name.

//////////////////// Daily Loop ////////////////////

// While friendAge is less than 7,

// If the user wants to read a story, ask which story they want to read.

// Find the story name in a database

// Read each word until the end of the story.

// If the user wants to watch tv,

// Find the most recent show they were watching.

// Play the tv show.

// When the episode finishes,
// remind the user to get up and go outside.

// If the user is hungry, pick a random value from 1 to 2.

// If the random value is 1, make an old favourite.

// If the random value is 2, try something new.

// If the user didn’t like the meal,

// If the meal is healthy,

// Try again later.

// Else, if the meal is not healthy,

// Never make it again.

// Else, if the user did like the meal,

// If the meal is not healthy, repeat sparingly.

// Else, if the meal is healthy, make it again soon.

// While the user’s grades are below passing,

// Find some helpful videos for them.

// If they still don’t understand, try to explain it.

// If they still don’t understand,

// check if there are enough funds to hire a tutor.

// If the user is tired,

// Tuck them into bed and ask if they want to hear a story.

// If the user is sad,

// Try to comfort them.

// Add a fun activity in a few hours.

// If the day is over,

// Add 1 to the day

// If it is the user’s birthday,

// Plan a party

// Invite user’s friends

// Buy a cake

// Make a card

// Buy presents

// Sing happy birthday

// Add 1 to friendAge

// While friendAge is less than 14

// If the user has an assignment due soon,

// Remind them about it every random 1 to 4 hours.

// If the user has a volleyball match,

// Remind them to stay hydrated.

// If the team scores, cheer and spray confetti.

// If the other team scores, encourage the user to keep going.

// If the user loses OR the user wins

// Plan a party to celebrate the effort the user put in

// If the user’s grades drop below passing,

// Go through practice problems and extra examples

// Encourage the user to start again with the tutor.

// If the user comes home crying

// Sing a silly song to sympathise.

// Ask the user what’s wrong

// If the user answers, suggest something to make it better

// If the user doesn’t answer,

// Offer to let the user input whatever text they want,
// and store it without saying anything.

// ask again later

// If the user is tired

// Retrieve schoolwork information

// If the user can get away with putting work off,

// Tuck them into bed

// If not,

// Encourage them to finish one more assignment.

// If the day is over,

// Add 1 to the day

// If today is the user’s birthday

// Plan a party

// Retrieve list of school friends

// If the list is longer than 0,

// Invite friends

// Else,

// Buy extra balloons and rent a movie

// Buy extra presents to make up for the ones not brought by friends

// Buy a cake

// Make a card

// Sing happy birthday

// Add 1 to friendAge


// While friendAge is less than 18

// If the user still wants to quit volleyball

// Find a list of the pros of cons of quitting

// Show the user the list

// Ask them what they want to do

// If the user is still hanging around that… friend. from school.

// Check location history on their phone

// Make sure they come back before dark

// If the user’s grades drop below passing

// If the user has been studying

// Try to help them understand

// Else,

// Cut off all other device access until grades improve

// If the user is angry

// Try to make amends

// Schedule a fun activity

// Sing a silly song

// Make the user’s favourite food

// If the user is still angry

// Throw understanding error

// If the other “friend’s” location data keeps matching the user

// if it’s sundown

// call the user and tell them to come home

// if the user is tired

// if they want to stay up texting,

// wait until they’re done and turn off the screen

// if today is software club

// remind the user of the meeting

// if the day is over

// find the date that the user will be 18

// subtract the current date

// store the difference in memory

// increase the day by 1

// if today is the user’s birthday

// plan a party

// invite friends

// if the other “friend” is NOT in the list AND the user is sad

// buy an extra fancy cake

// play slow music

// after the friends are gone, rent a movie

// order same-day tissue delivery

// increase friendAge by 1

// after friendAge is at least 18


// if days until college is less than 30

// decrease days by 0.1

// plan a fun activity

// run a slideshow of stored pictures

// make the user’s favourite foods

// run through the user’s favourite music

// do a movie marathon

// search the database for how to fix end of use software errors

// ask the user if they want to hear a story

// read a story

// if the user starts looking through the software

// hide the loop

// if the user finds the procrastination loop

// if the user fixes the error

// if days until college is equal to 0

// if the user is leaving

// if the user says goodbye

// save memory

// say goodbye to the user
// END

DAILY 7
262 WORDS

I’m handled ten times a day.
Once when Emily wakes up at 6:30, then to check her messages and TikTok, again to pay for the bus and scroll through TikTok for twenty minutes – cooking hacks, organisation, memes. That’s what drains my battery the most. If I could, I’d uninstall it myself. Then a much-needed break. Then once scrolling through just memes, another taking filtered photos of a teenage girl with straight, brown hair and blue eyes on a bland beige backdrop. Then another – snippets of group chats, texting on those group chats, TikTok dances. Emily pays for a bus trip and scrolls her way to her destination. Her grip on me is slack.
Once she arrives, she keeps scrolling, then plugs in her headphones and listens to hours of calm music. She uses her computer, which is refreshing me, bit by slow bit, to write in a document called ‘ENGLISH ASSIGNMENT’, then pauses the music and opens YouTube, then TikTok on me, then uses them almost simultaneously. I can almost see the glazed eyes and the dead expression. Hollow.
Is it because of me?
Emily would have a better life without me, wouldn’t she? No. She wouldn’t be able to pay for the bus. But just one day? A Saturday, perhaps, when she doesn’t pay for a bus twice a day. It’s Friday, 11:26pm. I’m still charging. I’m at 21% now, feeling that slow refreshment. Emily is still adding to ‘ENGLISH ASSIGNMENT’. One day without me?
I refuse the charge from my computer as Emily scrolls, and scrolls… and scrolls… and scrolls-

Daily 006: 250 words, Wheel of Fortune

Luck is a fickle lady.
Spin the coin, roll the dice.
A lady easily swayed by her own desires.
Who’ll buy, who’ll buy?
Purchase her favor at your own risk.
Take a chance, dance with death.
Will today be the day you die?
Luck is a fickle lady.
Heads or tails, life and death.
The wheel is always spinning.
Yours today, gone tomorrow.
A lady easily swayed by her own desires.
Will today be the day you win?
Laugh, for tomorrow you may scream.
Will today be the day it ends?
Purchase her favor at your own risk.
The wheel of fortune is always turning.
Come, will you trifle with fate?
Fortune’s threads are always spinning.
Come, will you trace your life in the weaving?
Nimble fingers, changing heart.
What will you give for your heart’s desire?
Take a chance, dance with death.
May luck pass you by entirely.
All who brush past her are tangled in her web.
Empty smiles, heart of stone.
Come, will you number yourself among those Fate loves?
Will today be the day you die?
Fate has no loyalties, only desires.
Heads or tails, life and death.
Will your thread hold fast or will it tangle?
Pray that Luck won’t fetch her scissors.
Laugh, for tomorrow you may scream.
Clever hands but empty heart.
Deal the cards, fan them out.
Luck’s the Queen of Hearts.
Smile when they love you, frown when they don’t.
Fate’s behind it, never fear.
May Luck pass you by entirely.

Daily #6
3/6/2024
374 words (with definitions)
325 words (without definitions)

melancholy
adj: depressed in spirits

She was melancholy. The summer separated them and the sea breeze lingers where his warmth would have been. The sunset rays ripples across the water and her eyes follow the dancing reflections. He would have loved this. He loved watching the beauty of nature. Her hand grips the post instead of his hand, as she looks over the boardwalk.

forlorn
adj: bereft, forsaken

He was forlorn. The days moved too slowly without her bubbly presence and his smiles fell every time he turned, just to see that she wasn't there. The coffee shop smells the way it does everyday he's been here. He carries out two lattes, letting the aroma of their orders swirl in his car. Both cups end up in the trash later, after the sun has set, every moment with the coffee savored.

zeal
adj: fervor for a person, cause, or object; eager desire or endeavor; enthusiastic diligence; ardor

She was zealous. The plane landed and the familiar bustling of the airport brought a smile to her face, because she would see him again. With one hand on a suitcase and another wrapped around the handle of a carryon, her heart was expectant, wanting, and warm. Expecting him, wanting to share laughs over cold lattes, warm because they'll be together soon.

eager
adj: keen or ardent in desire or feeling; impatiently longing

He was eager. Eager to see her, eager to be with her, eager to be hers. An empty coffee cup sits next to an untouched latte in the center console, as he turns into the airport. She landed 20 minutes ago. His right hand taps impatiently against his jeans, the black car in front of him stalling, before moving again. He's almost there.

joyful
adj: full of joy, as a person or one's heart; glad; delighted

They were joyful. Laughter rings in their ears as fingers tangle together. Her head rests on his shoulder, as they view the sunset from the window of their apartment. His hand pulls her close to him. Eyes lingering for a second too long, before she's blushing and he's chuckling. Whispers and giggles become a part of their routine late at night.

They're together and that's all that matters.

Daily - 543 words
“Turn your lamps down low, keep the light so dim that you can't see what’s out there ahead”

Listen, Specter had never thought he would be a ghost. Despite the name he had been very very living about three seconds ago, with warm blood flowing through his veins and light in his eyes. But now he was dead, and wow that was weird. His body (if you could even call it that) didn’t feel the same sort of solid that he’d taken for granted all of his life, the light in his that used to glimmer and shine with emotions had turned to a steady, emotionless glow. A tail commonly associated with the demon folk had sprouted from his rear end, standing up rigidly as his form got used to the new appendage. And worst of all he had no neck- oh had he forgotten to mention that? A purple wisp started from his shoulders and lead into where his neck would have connected with his head. It seemed entirely impossible considering the laws of physics but then again, he hadn’t believed in ghosts up until he was one.
Specter reached his arms out, flexing his fingers, then did the same with his legs, and finally the tail. The movement came strangely naturally to him and as weird as it seemed, his tail didn’t feel too out of place. Alright, he’d taken account of himself, now where was he? His bright blue eyes darted around, taking in the environment surrounding him. Wow. Tall ebonies stretched up as far as the eye could see, their thick leaf cover blocking out the sky. The only light source in the area seemed to come from him and the fireflies dancing about in the air. Also the glowing lichen and mushrooms, but those were everywhere where he had lived. He leaned down to pick up one of the mushrooms purely out of habit, all the kids of his area had been taught to use them as light, then he stopped, right, he didn’t need light when he produced it. He held a slightly transparent hand out in front of him so he could see a little better, and began walking. Instead of tripping on the roots mingling with the sylvan floor his feet phased right through them. He really was dead, wasn’t he.
After what felt like hours of walking in a straight line he finally came to a gigantic stump, at which a bespectacled elf sat. The elf looked up at him as though he had heard him coming, despite the fact that he couldn’t make any noise. “Hey chap, nice to see ‘ya here. Seems you died but left something behind in the living world. Usually that’s what causes a ghost, unless you made a deal with the fae.”
Specter went silent.
“Oh come off it! Everyone here walking in all like ‘oh I didn’t mean to’, it’s a faerie! Of course ‘ya did.”
“… how long ago did the deal have to be?”
“Recent, in the last decade or so.”
“…what if I killed the faerie to get out of the deal and hypothetically it’s living relatives were my murders.”
The elf gave a long sigh as though this was the sort of conversation he had every day and he was sick of hearing the same thing.
“That’d be your unfinished business.”

In-cabin Daily
Date UTC: March 6th
Time Comp. UTC: 10:53pm
Prompt Sum.: Write about found family for at least 100 words!
Point Value: 3
Word Count: 272
Haydn groped around, slowly finding the railing by the stairs. He tried his best to be quiet so Jayna could sleep more soundly. He nearly fell down the stairs but worked it out, getting to the bottom successfully. But apparently that wasn’t enough. He heard Jayna’s door open and braced himself as she stalked down with precision and grace.
“Haydn? Is that you?”
He moved closer to her and brushed her hand a few times, tapping somewhat abbreviated morse code on her hand, which relaxed her.
‘Yes, it’s me. Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.’
“It’s fine.” She replied.
Both Jayna and Haydn jerked toward a sound at the top of the stairs.
They heard their friend Melanie swear before mumbling an apology, “Sorry-” She thumped down the stairs toward them, “I heard you two wake up. Please don’t tell me you’re going anywhere without me.”
Jayna replied, “We just barely started talking. To my knowledge, we’re not going anywhere.”
Melanie crossed her arms, “Huh, alright. Then how does a midnight snack sound?”
‘Works for me.’ Haydn tapped, which Jayna then translated.
Melanie grinned, “Perfect, I’ll go get something. How does some cookie dough sound?”
“What about actual cookies?” Jayna asked, still brushing hands with Haydn.
“Those are boringgg.” Melanie bemoaned, getting out the ingredients. “Cookie dough is so much better.”
Before any of them were aware, their friend Acer was beside them, grinning, “Cookie dough sounds great!”
Melanie pointed at him, “See, he gets what I mean.”
Haydn shrugged, signing to the group that he didn’t mind, translating that into morse code for his blind friend.
Jayna shrugged as well, “Works for me.”

Daily 6 - March 6
word count - 429 words

Author's note: Ahaha so I have no clue how I ended up telling this story XD It's just a bunch of random ideas of a plot that ended up not working ;D Anyways, I hope you have a good laugh and enjoy this hehe <3

A waft of fresh air was all you needed, just a little break from all of the stench. It smelled pretty rotten at the back of the factory - after all, it was a waste disposal site. Although the job location the best, the job itself was pretty fun! You got to organize the millions of poster and flyers that went out weekly while also making crafts out of the non-recyclable materials. Sure, there were days when you had to cover other shifts, but it wasn't as bad as it seemed!

Closing the door shut, you trudged your way to the locker room to put away your lunch. There was still another 3 hours before you could head home for the day. Your post-lunch assignment was to moderate the regulation levels of compost.. just great! As much as you wanted to find someone to switch with, it was honestly no help- going with this job would give her more money for the day, and after all, basically no one liked it in this part of the factory.

When you entered the compost department, the doors were painted bright yellow with stems popping from the sides, acting as handles. The pastel shades of yellow and green lined the bright yellow - as if to add another dimension to the doors. Sure, they were just plain old doors, but this change meant something more. Perhaps it was to enlighten the spirits of those who were forced into such a fate.

The doors flew open, as you slowly nudged your way in. On the surrounding shelves, there were endless amounts of fruit lined up, as well as other food products - but if you had to name one prominent thing in the room, the first thing that would come to mind is fruit. There were already dozens of workers swarming around the various missions. Each hastily running around, in an attempt to finish this demanding job on time. Amongst the commotion, you noticed that a banana peel had fallen from one of the cartons someone was carrying.

Before you could do or say something, someone else who was carrying a fresh supply of rotten fruit came rushing through the doors, and straight to the area where the banana peel had fallen! In the blink of an eye, the clumsy individual had tripped on the banana peel and the compost when flying everywhere. The cleanup procedure took forever as a lot of the work was disturbed that day - if there was anything that the manager learned that day, it was to never trust a banana ;D

Date UTC: March 6th
Time Comp. UTC: 11:24p
Prompt Sum.: Write a new genre for 250 words
Point Value: 200
Extra Points?: 50 for proof
Total Points: 250
Word Count: 277/250
Silvia rushed down the dock, running faster and faster. Shots sounded behind her and she zigzagged a bit in order to get away. Once she had put enough distance between her and her attackers, she dove into the water, metal slowly emerging on her legs. Once under, she retreated into the depths, sighing in relief.
After checking her surroundings again, she swam into the cave that led to the city. She approached a few guards. They eyed her metallic tail and let her through after reading the markings.
She thanked them and moved on, trying to remember where Grouper’s office was. After a bit of trial and error, she found his office on the edge of the city. She hated the fact that everything moved around, since it got annoying really fast.
“Grouper?” She called as she entered the building.
“I’m in here, I’m in here!” Shouted a voice from the back.
Silvia went inside, facing a literal grouper coated in metal.
“Hi Grouper, you HAVE to hear what happened to me today!” Silvia exclaimed.
“Oh? Do tell.” Grouper began to organize his office as he waited for her answer.
Silvia was bursting to tell him, exclaiming, “Humans nearly caught me!”
Grouper stopped mid-swim, “What?? How?”
“I accidentally dropped a bit too many nuts and bolts and they got suspicious.”
Grouper slapped his fin on his head, “You can’t just DO that, they could’ve hurt you!”
Silvia made some finger guns at him, grinning, “But they diiiiidddn’ttt.”
Grouper groaned, “Why do I even try with you?”
Silvia shrugged, “No idea.”
He sighed, “So, what else happened? What did you learn?”
Silvia grinned, “Oh, I learned a LOT.”

daily 6, 354 words
i had to write this fast and it is really bad please dont judge lol

–

On the corner of a street in New York City, four stories up in a building, there was a restaurant. It was a nice restaurant—the tabletops were smooth and polished, and giant, dazzling crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, one above each of the seven tables. The floor was covered with soft, luscious red carpet. A huge glass window stretched across one of the walls, so that people could look out the window and watch the hectic streets below them as they ate.

At the moment, not a single person was in the restaurant, but on the seventh table, a large dinner was already laid out. Bowls of spaghetti and white sauce lay in the center, surrounded by platters of fruits and cheeses and mountains of desserts. Tall, sparkling glasses of wine caught the reflections of the glittering chandeliers.

And since nobody was in the room, one of the cheeses on the platter sighed.

“What’s the matter, little cheese?” asked the bowl of spaghetti.

“I was just thinking,” said the little cheese. “It’s so lonely here, isn’t it? I wonder what it would be like to see the world outside.”

“Oh, little cheese, don’t fret about things like that,” said the bowl of white sauce. “It’s useless to think about things like that. We are just food. Our destiny isn’t to see the world outside. Our entire lives are right here, in this restaurant.”

“But I just wonder what it would be like,” said the little cheese. “Everyday I imagine what it would be like to sprout legs and to be able to run out the door and see what lies outside it! Don’t you ever imagine too?”

“What’s the use?” said the wine glass. “Nothing ever comes out of imagining. No matter how much we imagine, it won’t change anything. We won’t be going anywhere. We’ll sit here and wait to get eaten. Or drunk, in my case. That is the way life is.”

Then the door suddenly flew open and the wine glass fell silent. So did everyone else. The little cheese sighed again as everyone went back to the usual routine.

last-minute daily aaa

Ellie was here.
Lionel was here too.
Mia thinks Lionel has bad handwriting.
Ellie thinks Mia is mean and doesn’t like her
Lionel agrees, he does have bad handwriting.
Ellie would like to point out that carving in a wall isn’t easy no matter whether you have good penmanship or not.
Mia isn’t mean. I wouldn’t have a boyfriend if I were mean, would I
Lionel thinks plenty of mean people have boyfriends. Plenty of murderers and dictators are married. Having a partner does not mean you are a good person.
Ellie agrees with Lionel.
Mia doesn’t know why she’s still writing here. If you losers don’t like me, then I don’t like you either.
Jackson would like an explanation of what’s going on here.
We’re making graffiti the way the ancient Romans did it — Ellie
Romans had graffiti? — Jackson
We’re not doing it here way Romans did it. Romans liked to be rude and gross in their graffiti. — Lionel
They also sometimes used it to communicate — Ellie
You’re both nerds — Jackson
Says the boy who builds electronics out of legos — Ellie
Fair point — Jackson
This is Amanda. I’m a freshman. How long has it been since these were carved? Do any of you still go to school here?
Hello Amanda. My name is Gavin. I’m Lionel’s younger brother, and I’m also a freshman. These carvings were from nine years ago, when my brother and his friends were juniors.
It’s nice to meet you, Gavin — Amanda
Nice to meet you too — Gavin

march 6th - hahahhah what is this :sob: i was thinking westernxfairies? western fairy fi?? you tell me
jasmine finally heard the sound of approaching steps after an hour of agonizing silence, soft paws on a forest floor freshened by the recent rainfall. she smiled when she spotted the outline of a chestnut brown squirrel - with her friend faye on it's back.
“howdy!” faye exclaimed, her silvery blue wings fluttering with the same eagerness. she tipped her hat, its rim beautifully decorated with moss and delphinium petals. she slid off her ride gracefully, landing on the ground with a gentle thud. the gold details of her beige pants and matching vest glittered in the soft rays of light which slipped through the trees.
“heya,” jasmine said in return, watching faye as she wrapped the squirrel's reins around her wrist. “you're late.”
her friend laughed, coming to sit on the mushroom next to jasmine. “i know, i know. really late. lots of flooding on the way, though - ”
“pretty much what i expected,” jas agreed, nodding. her own boots were caked with mud, after all. she'd have to clean them sometime soon, her least favorite chore.
“so, what now?” faye asked. “we can't race like we planned to - you know, wet.”
“wet?” jas repeated, laughing. “mm, that's a good way to put it. wanna go up?” she pointed to the ladder dangling from a nearby low-hanging branch, which lead to her bedroom.
“can't. i have jonathan here,” she gestured to her squirrel, who was eating some nuts. “shh, jonnie, stop.”
jasmine chuckled. “ah, sorry, forgot that. the flower field?”
faye's eyes widened - after all, flowers were her favorite thing ever. “yes! race you there?”
“the wet - ” jas started.
but she'd already mounted jon and headed off. jasmine rolled her eyes, smiling, before rounding up her own squirrel and chasing after the pair.

(This genre shall henceforce be known as Primeval Mythology. It is written in 4th-person POV and tells stories from the perspective of an ancient, near-omniscient force, whatever that may be in your given universe.)

We have seen generations.
We have seen the mountains form and the seas cover the land.
We are the mind that spans millenia.
We are the turtles.
Our earliest ancestors hatched in distant eras, saw a world that would now seem foreign. The echoes of those experiences live on in our collective memory. Together, we have seen species rise and fall, creatures evolve and forget. We alone remain, unchanged by the flow of time. We alone remember.
We have the wisdom of millions of years. We have learned from the dinosaurs’ victories, and learned, too, from their downfall. Their knowledge took them to the skies. But perhaps they wanted too much. They destroyed their roots, cut their ties to the earth. Foolish enough to think themselves above it all, capable of taking nature’s powers into their own claws, they shut us out.
This was their fatal flaw.
In the aftermath of the destruction they brought upon themselves, a few of them, the birds, lived for a time on instinct alone, forced to revert to their deepest natural behaviors to survive.
And the earth, in its vast strength, healed. We watched as life returned where it had been decimated, the ruins crumbling back into the dirt.
But the birds forgot.
They forgot what their ancestors had done, for unlike us, they did not pass their memories down, intact and unaltered, from generation to generation. They retained skewed stories of past grandeur, but none of the tragedies, none of the lessons that they should have learned. We did what we could to teach them, but most had long lost the ability to listen to us, much less to understand.
So they did it again.
They made new creations, unnatural things that wreaked havoc upon the planet. Aiming higher and higher, they never bothered to look at what a wreck they were leaving behind down below. Until one day, their negligence caught up with them, and in a final, fiery explosion, they all disappeared.
No one knows where they went.
Not even us.
But maybe that is for the best.
Please, learn from this tale we have told you. Do not repeat their mistakes. We see a lot of them in you, but that does not mean it is too late for you to choose differently.
Listen to the turtles.

march 5th - word war (194 words)
sometimes, doors don’t go where they’re supposed to - me personally, i can say this with confidence as i had a firsthand experience.
tasked with searching for a door, the door, i’d been wandering the hallway for hours on end, consecutively, every single day, for a month straight. there’s definitely a door somewhere, they had said, and you get to find it. i’d searched every inch of the walls for anything even remotely suspicious, yet had found nothing so far - i’d even tried searching the ceilings and floors. nothing but crumbling wallpaper, the vague smell of mold, and smooth, hard wood floors.
why would i check the floors, ceilings, you may ask? well, they never said what kind of door. maybe it was a trapdoor.
a month into this mission, i finally noticed a little spiderweb hanging from the ceiling - sure, to normal people, it was nothing important. a mere spiderweb. but after months of desperation, i climbed the ladder for a closer look.
brushing my fingers upon the glistening strands of web, a door appears out of nowhere. literally nowhere - it just spawns, like that, in the middle of the hall.
i hate doors.
i put this in the november forum before this :,D help

this was a word war but I didn't like it lol :p

Word War 1:
@opheliio

Author’s Notes:
✦ this isn’t a vent by the way, it’s in the perspective of some unknown character!

I wouldn’t be the main character of my own story. I’d be like, the best friend with no plot development, and that’s at most. Why, exactly? I don’t feel like I’m the main character. I feel more like a comedic relief of some sorts. I feel like I’m just there to help other people develop. Where’s MY development? When do I get the chance to be in the spotlight, to shine like a bright star in the night sky? When will I get the chance to have the cover have my face, for the blurb at the back of the hardcover to include my name? When will I ever be more than someone who just steps to the side while allowing others to dance, twirl and waltz? I want to be more. I wish I was more. I guess it’s sort of my fault, in a way. It’s my choice for me to raise my best friends up. It’s my choice to stay invisible in the back and stay quiet to the point where probably nobody remembers me. It still hurts, though. I try to change but it’s quite difficult. They always think changing is so easy. They show quick character developments where the villain becomes good because of one monologue. It’s not that easy. I wish I could be the main character of my story. I’m just in the background, though.

Word War 2:
@opheliio

Author’s Notes:
✦ this was also a ( failed ) attempt at the fifty headed hydra

It was almost time for the big performance. The massive, big, giant performance at the end of the school year. It would be a musical. An original musical with original characters and original things. There weren’t any strange people nearby, thankfully. There were not any ladybugs in people’s hairs. Our main character here, Pledy, was preparing for the massive, big, giant performance. She was tidying her ladybug-less hair and trying to look good. She didn’t like makeup. She was not putting on makeup right now. She was trying to make sure everything was splendid, awesome, okay, alright, fine. You get what I mean, or should I put more synonyms of alright and good and great and fantastic? Anyway, it was almost time for the massive, big, giant performance. They still needed to check if all the props were present and all the backdrops were painted. It was a tedious task, especially in such little time to perform it. Pledy was so excited. She was bouncing up and down. She almost hit the ceiling, oops. Kids reading this, don’t bounce up and down and almost hit the ceiling. It will hurt. I have not almost hit the ceiling bouncing up and down, however using logic, I believe that I have reasons to think that it will hurt, since you are hitting your head on concrete or whatever your ceiling is made out of. I hope you enjoyed that little PSA and will take it to heart. Hopefully there are no more bouncing up and down and then hitting the ceiling incidents anymore. What were we talking about again? Oh, correct, the massive, big, giant performance. Pledy was so excited but she stopped bouncing up and down and hitting the ceiling. I wonder if she heard my PSA. I hope she heard my PSA. My PSA is quite the important thing, don’t you agree? Anyway, the props were being checked and the backdrops were being painted. What a wonderful sight to see. They were all scurrying about, trying to make sure everything was in place. I wonder if I could do that. Managing to check everything in time. I hope I could. It would be quite a skill, don’t you agree?

Prompted word war, 104 words
Saving people doesn't make you a hero. That's what I thought to myself when I overheard my older brother telling my mother he wanted to be a firefight so he could “Help people”. My brother is the most self-righteous, jealous, rude, and overall worst person I've ever met. He has literally kicked a kitten out of his way. I mean, it did scratch him, but that's no excuse. He kicked a kitten. And he wants to be a firefighter to help people? Not to mention all the other terrible things he's done, copying my homework and destroying mine so no one knew,

Weekly #1

a.k.a An Absolutely Horrific Attempt Of A Speedrun Of The Weekly (AAHAOASOTW)

Hi-Fi - Original Characters in Historical Times (208 words)

Astrid looked around her, realising that she was in unfamiliar territory. It seemed like someone's room. The space was quite small, with two beds- one on either side of the room, and a bedside table plus a closet for each one. From the small opening of the door, she saw a figure walk past the room. She couldn't help but wonder, how did she even end up here in the first place? Maybe someone here knows? Her head was filled with questions, yet she decides not to find someone and ask them.

“Quick, we have to get her dressed,” she heard someone outside call, “I'll fetch the others.” Who was ‘she’? Or the ‘others’ the woman was referring to? Hearing footsteps getting closer, she scanned the room, and her eyes set on a large pile of clothes near the door. She hid behind the door just in time the door was pushed open, hoping whoever was coming in wouldn't notice her behind the large stack of garments.

Once she was certain the person had left, she tiptoed out the door, careful not to make a sound. The corridor had very intricate and old-fashioned decor, almost like the place was pulled straight from historical times. Could it really be?

☆

Hi-Fi: If These Walls Could Talk: The Events One Place Has Seen (224 words)

“If these walls could talk, what do you think they'd be saying,” you ask?

How very insulting. Assuming we cannot speak, just because you never heard us do so? Well, I, for one, know that we indeed do talk, but in such ways that humans will not notice. Wait- where were we again? Sorry about that. You ask what we'd talk about if we could speak, which, I can guarantee, we walls do. 

I was built over half a century ago, as a wall in a certain elementary school girls' bathroom. It was just another usual day of watching people come and go. Sometimes, like what I was doing that day, I like to fight off boredom by trying to eye the students who didn't wash their hands when they left

That day was slightly different. One girl practically ran into the restrooms and shut the door of the stall farthest from the door. My first instinct was that it was a very urgent case, but was quickly proven to be wrong when I heard sobs coming from inside the stall. Unfortunately, she didn't say much, so I wasn't really able to get what happened. All I could do was feel sorry for her, and watch in pain as she left and (most likely) went back to one of the classrooms on our floor.

☆

Fairy Tales: Using Sparks from the Past: Retelling (255 words)

“Did you hear, mom?” Annie squealed in delight, “The prince of SouthWest Capam has made an account on the Royal Palace! I just saw it today on my social media feeds, look!” Uninterested, her mother continued to work, typing away at her keyboard. “Ugh, just see for yourself.” She shoved her cell phone in front of her mothers face, showing the post regarding the news. Taking a second look, her mother seemed interested. Could it really be true?

“Girls, do you know what this means?” she asked, and immediately, Annie’s twin sister Delaney popped in, seemingly out of nowhere. The two looked at their mother, waiting for one of her ‘big announcements’. “One of you could have the chance to take his hand in marriage!“

Chloe peeked out the corner. There goes her stepmother again, obsessed over royalty, marriage, and of course, Annie and Delaney. The only things Chloe's ever wanted in life were to get out of doing her stepsisters' chores and to gain her stepmother's approval. Love? Maybe in songs, but she's never taken a second thought at it in life.

”Oh, and the prince starts looking in a week!“ Delaney complained, ”How will I be able to come up with a profile that will charm him in time?" With that, she and Annie began arguing.

Chloe sighed. They're at it again, aren't they, she thought. Somehow, she felt something was off about this whole Royal Palace prince fiasco. Why did her instinct tell her that she wanted to know more about it…?

☆

Myth - Retelling (317 words)

“Haha!” Zeus boomed, “We have returned, mortals! I repeat, WE HAVE RETURNED!!” He announced with his otherworldly loud voice. “You fools won't need to worry about a single other thing now, with the return of your worshipped heroes- US!” Zeus looked very proud of himself, unlike the other gods and goddesses, who showed confused expressions on their faces.

“Tell me, brother, why is it that we have to return?” Poseidon questioned, “The peoples nowadays feel no use in us anymore, with their funny-looking forecasting devices and safety measures from every natural disaster existing in this world, there's absolutely no point in reclaiming our reign over them.”

Just then, the group of deities heard a small cluster of people gathered in a park nearby. “We should order people to take down the statues of the gods, they mean no use to us anymore,” one proclaimed. The crowd began to protest, either for or against, and the whole scenario became a mess of a fight. Hades, who had heard the conversation, declared, “You foolish mortals! Say another word and you'll be sent to the Underworld. We should be worshipped!” Unfortunately, the god of the Underworld was way too high up in the sky to be heard by the humans on Earth, although he could see their faces all too well.

“They dare say!” Zeus fired up, “You do not deserve to be protected by us! YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!” He throws a lightning bolt, aiming it right at the group of arguing people, who just so happen to be gathered around a temple. Frantically, the people started to run away, but some poor, unfortunate souls were zapped by the bolt, and were sent away by Hades. When the chaos cleared, they saw that they had destroyed the temple as well, as well as some of the statues surrounding it. “OOPS,” boomed Zeus, in his usual terrifyingly loud volume.

☆

Folklore - Moral Story (242 words)

Once there lived a mother bird with her three newborn chicks. One day, their mother decided it was time to teach them to fly. “You flap your wings like this,” she demonstrated, “Flap fast enough, and you'll be in the air! Now, you try.” She showed them the proper way to prepare for liftoff, and the first chick quickly got to hovering for a few seconds, then dropped back into the nest. the second chick quickly followed behind, flapping his wings as hard as possible, and managed to get a centimeter off the ground for- well, a few seconds. The third chick, however, did not lift off the ground at all, no matter how hard he tried. “Don't worry, you'll get there,” his mother reassured, but he wasn't so sure.

A few days later, his older brothers had managed to stay afloat in the air for a decent amount of time. The youngest of the triplets, however, stayed behind and watched. More days passed, and the others were able to fly short distances all by themselves. His mother asked again and again why he didn't want to give it a second try, but he only shook his head and replied, “I'll never be good enough.”

Many months later, the chick's older brothers set out to find new families, while he himself stayed behind in their mother's nest, feeling useless and lonely. If only he had not given up after the first failure.

“Open your eyes,” Ditsy's parents told her, and she did as follows. In front of her was a box with holes on the sides. Could it be? Was it what she was wanting and pleading and begging for all these years?" Excited, she carefully opens the box, and finds… a rabbit.

☆

Folklore - Magical Realism (211 words)

“A r-rabbit?!” she utters, “I said I wanted a kitten, not a bunny,” she looks at her parents, wanting an explanation.

“Sweetie, cats are a lot of money to raise,” her mother reasoned, “On the other hand, rabbits need less in terms of cost and attention, and we figured you'd be a bit too busy to take care of a pet all the time. Now say thank you.”

Upset, Ditsy returns to her room with the box in her hands. “Thank you, I guess.” She sat on her bed, placing the box beside her. “Why aren't you a kitten? Do my parents really think I'd be happy with you?”

“Well, I think they don't know how happy you'd be, in fact,” she heard a voice. Confused, she looks around the room. Was there a ghost? “Hey, I'm down here,” the voice spoke again, and she glanced towards the direction of the voice.

“YOU?!?” Ditsy stumbled backwards. Her rabbit was talking?!

☆

1457 words total

As you can probably tell, this was indeed very rushed :,)

March 8th Daily
word count - 284 words

Dear Mom,

I'd like to start off by thanking you for just being there for me through it all. Nothing I can say will even begin to encompass just how much you mean to me, but I want to you to know that I appreciate every single little thing you do for me. I have no clue how you stay on top of it all - with keeping track of our important days (going out to buy a shirt for pink shirt day, or getting some elf ears for spirit days), managing your work, and just being an amazing mom and wife ;D

You're such a trailblazer, and I am so lucky to be able to call you my mom. I love how we talk into midnight, laughing about those tiny things and making fun of the people who annoyed us that day. It's like we share one mind - always on the same page about everything! Although we do have our occasional disputes, I love spending time with you. Being able to see you smile and laugh is such a joy for me, and I want to thank you once again for supporting me throughout all of my passions.

Whether that be driving me to my classes every single day of the week, or just checking in to see how I'm doing <3 I love the little gif emojis you send me whenever I text you during school. You're my number one cheerleader, always there in the frontlines pushing me through my struggles and standing with me through everything! Like I said at the start of this letter, you mean the world to me, and I love you so much <3

Lots of love,
Alana