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Event 3: Write the Story



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Mon Aug 05, 2024 9:09 pm
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JazzicusMaximus says...



I'll sign up!

Here is the last part to "Sockington and Washerio: Reunion and Love"

Spoiler! :
Very narrowly did Sockington avoid being noticed by the humans. He scurried across the floor, doing his best to blend into the shadows. Oh how exciting it would be, to see his sister again. It hadn't been his love who took his sister away!

Now he had one very large and obvious obstacle: the stairs. He always had human aid, but now he was on his own, for humans wouldn't help him this time. They had turned his sister into a sock puppet. Oh, if there was only a place they could go away to but he couldn't leave Washerio, his one true love.

With slow progress, he hopped up the steps one by one. He could feel the distance between his sister and him closing. That kept him going, and he finally, finally made it to the top of the stairs.

"I've made it!" He started to call for his sister. "Stockilla! Stockilla! Where art thou! It is I, Sockington!"

He searched the boxes, eagerly calling out for his sister. His search however, was soon interrupted by their cat: Mr. Nelson! He had always rubbed himself on Sockington when the kids were playing video games and he was resting on the table. He didn't have time to react when he was picked up by Mr. Nelson. The cat's mouth smelled disgusting and Sockington gagged. "Put me down Mr. Nelson! Bad kitty! I must find Stockilla!"

How embarrassing that his voice rose up an octave. None of his scolding changed the cat's actions, as the cat went down the stairs undoing all of his hard journey. The cat trotted out into the backyard where many times had Sockington been with the boys as they played soccer together. With a great leap Mr. Nelson jumped onto the fence and with impressive balance, stayed on top. He walked on top of the fence before suddenly jumping down without warning. Mr. Nelson walked through the tall grass, which got sticky seeds stuck to Sockington. Oh dear, was that black blob he saw over there a tick? How far would they go? Now he'd never have a chance to find his sister. Even worse, he'd never get to return to Washerio. Mr. Nelson stopped under a tree, and dropped Sockington onto the ground. Sockington picked himself up, and whatever dignity he had left with him.

"Is that Sockington?" A little voice asked. A familiar one.

"Stockilla?" He turned around to see his sister. "Stockilla!"

The two ran to each other and embraced. "Oh, Sockington, I'm so glad to see you! I've been waiting for what feels like eternity."

"You've been waiting-?" He asked.

"Yes, I have. I wanted to leave, but not without you. Do you know how horrible it is to be turned into a sock puppet?"

"But I can't leave Washerio!" Sockington exclaimed. "I can't leave, I'm sorry. But you can come back with me! They won't use you as a sock puppet ever again, I won't let them! Please, just come back with me."

Stockilla sighed. "Very well."

Stockilla whistled, summoning Mr. Nelson. They were carried back home, and Sockington ran to his love, Washerio, to tell him about his wild adventure.

Many years later, Sockington and Washerio were still together. Sockington's sister lived to never become a sock puppet again.
Last edited by JazzicusMaximus on Tue Aug 06, 2024 9:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I am the Timekeeper, Quote Hunter, and Grave Visitor

"Don't tell me the sky's the limit when there are footprints on the moon." — Paul Brandt

Jazz Elektrobass




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 12:23 am
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NadyaStatham says...



Sign ups are closed!



Hey everyone, thanks for joining ^^




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 12:31 am
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alpacaboss says...



sign me up! :>
John 3:16; Joshua 1:9; 1 Timothy 4:12
Professional Bible nerd, Christian and classical music enthusiast, and alpaca lover
To God be All the Glory




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 1:03 am
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NadyaStatham says...



Hey @alpacaboss ! I'm really sorry about this, but sign ups are closed already and pairs are already made.




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 4:00 am
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EllieMae says...



Here is a message on behalf of the awesome @NadyaStatham :D

Alright, Group Start (on the left) you've all written the beginning of some very interesting stories, now it's time for Group Finish (on the right in bold) to check out which story you're assigned to and start writing the End for it. XD

Good luck and don't forget to check all the requirements before editing your post! You have until August 6 at 8 PM EST

@alliyah - @Serrurie
@redcarnation - @looseleaf
@LuminescentAnt - @KateHardy
@EllieMae - @JazzElectrobass
@OrabellaAvenue - @WeepingWisteria
@Ley - @Valkyria
@CapybarasAndCoffee
@Spearmint - @Omni

-Nadya
”Life can only be understood backward, but it must be lived forwards (so you might as well do Duolingo ).”


Was ailah2005
Then AilahEvelynMae
and is now EllieMae




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 4:45 am
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Obscura says...



Hi! Question -- what can I do if I don't have a beginning to write an ending for?

︵‿︵‿୨♡OwO ♡୧‿︵‿︵


sass levels loading


[he/him] | omni




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 1:40 pm
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NadyaStatham says...



Beginning written by @Spearmint

Spoiler! :
Mazs Anme was really getting tired of these oversized pieces of paper. He gritted his teeth and dodged under one as it arched towards him. Mazs stabbed to the side with his ballpoint pen as he moved, ripping a tear in the giant sheet of paper. The paper flapped in consternation and sagged just as Mazs ran out of the arch. "Loyep!" he called. "Get reinforcements from the village!"

"On it!" Loyep punched her fountain pen through the back of another paper and sprinted towards the village. The paper army was getting uncomfortably close to its outskirts. Inside, villagers rushed to close the colorful gates, just in case.

Mazs wiped a bead of sweat from his brow as he threw himself into the fight again, slashing his ballpoint pen through the air in a flurry of metal and ink. Dared he use a smidge of his Creativity? He assessed the scene and decided against it. It was too costly for a minor skirmish like this one.

Loyep returned with a couple other Writers, wielding a pencil and a marker, respectively. They joined the fight, and soon enough the paper curled back under their relentless attacks. The papers folded themselves into origami animals and scuttled away.

Mazs kept his ballpoint pen up for another second, then sheathed it. "Good work, all."

"It's getting worse," Loyep muttered, her purple eyes darkening. "The attacks are getting more frequent. Did you hear? Valshor, just to the west, has fallen to the paper. Its colorful spires, markets… all gone. Just a blank, white plain now."

The Writers from the village exchanged worried glances.

Mazs tried not to be annoyed with Loyep for bringing it up in front of the villagers. He mostly succeeded. "It'll be okay. Right now, the important thing is to keep morale up and continue training Writers. How many with Creativity have you found in your village?"

"Us and a few others," the pencil-wielder answered hesitantly. "But the others are only children."

"Hopefully, it won't come down to it. However, they must be ready. The Queen will send another instructor soon." Mazs nodded to the villagers in dismissal.

Once he and Loyep were alone, he sighed. "It's been years. We should've found a better way to fight them by now."

"There is Creativity, but it's just so blanking draining to use," Loyep grumbled. Creativity could wipe out reams of paper at once in a colorful explosion, like paint splattering in all directions. Trouble was, it was hard to kickstart, and weighed the user down with Writer's Blocks for the next few hours. Blocks were eventually used in building, but were tied to a person for a length of time corresponding to the amount of Creativity they unleashed.

"If only we could find some way to use Blocks in battle." Mazs narrowed his eyes. The sun was cresting the peak of the sky and beginning to fall on its way to the Land of Dreams. "Well. We should get going."

"Wait." Loyep pointed across the grass. "What's that?"

Mazs turned to look. A scrap of paper fluttered in the breeze, catching on a few blades of grass, then being picked back up by the wind, then catching again. He stabbed at it with his pen, but it was only a regular piece of paper.

"Come to Valshor. Bring color." The words looked odd, as if they'd been written by a child not yet skilled at penmanship. When Mazs looked closer, he saw that they'd been made with grass stains and not ink.

"What in the blanking world?" he said, showing the message to Loyep.

But Loyep wasn't looking. Mazs followed her gaze and froze. She was staring at a wave of paper descending on the village, coming from the east and devouring the painted Blocks of the houses in an all-consuming surge of white. The villagers who'd aided them fell under the flood. Giant fingers of rustling white reached forwards, crawling hungrily towards the two of them.

"Run," Loyep whispered.


(669 words)


Hey @Omni , I hope you can work with this. ^^ So sorry for making you wait so long.




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 7:10 pm
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CapybarasAndCoffee says...



Who do. I write the ending for?
ENTJ ~ Witty ~ Christian ~ Funny ~ Honest ~ Teen ~ Author ~ Baby Boomer In A Gen Z's Body




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 8:31 pm
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NadyaStatham says...



Hey @CapybarasAndCoffee , I think you're confused, but you were supposed to write a beginning of a story yesterday with a deadline of 12 AM EST. Unfortunately, that means you won't be able to participate anymore. So sorry about this, keep a look out for other events though.




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 9:32 pm
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NadyaStatham says...



@Serrurie @looseleaf @KateHardy @JazzElectrobass @WeepingWisteria @Valkyria @Omni

Hey Finishers, please remember to check if you've crossed off all the requirements for the story.




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 10:11 pm
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WeepingWisteria says...



Here's the second half of Orabella and I's story: Maybe the Remedy is the Friends We Made. It's 713 words in total!

Spoiler! :
As I instinctively duck, I feel mist settle on my neck. It smells heavily of eucalyptus. Unfortunately for my new friend Drew, the mist hits him fully in the face.

"That'll teach you to get near Evelyn again, you Orca!"

It was my favorite librarian, Mrs. Eleanor. It was hard to make friends when everyone thought you were a giant panda, so I spent most of my free time in the library where you weren't really supposed to talk. Mrs. Eleanor was just as affected by my curse as everyone else, but she loved giant pandas, so the idea of having one in her library overjoyed her.

But I forgot she was always terrified of orca whales.

"Mrs. Eleanor! It's okay! He's just cursed."

Mrs. Eleanor held up her bottle of The Best Fisherman's Antiwhale Spray.

Drew wiped his face off, nose wrinkled at the heavy scent dripping down his face. "Yeah! And Orcas aren't whales."

"Wasn't that proven to be a myth?" I frown, trying to rack my brain around the family Orcas officially belonged to.

"Doesn't matter! Because I'm not an orca, so even the most potent of Orca Repellent wouldn't work on me."

Mrs. Eleanor sighed, pocketing her spray can. "I'm sorry, children. As a librarian, I'm supposed to recognize curses better, but I'm just so scared of Orcas." She shook her head, pushing her glasses back into place. "The truth is, I gathered you because I have some terrible news for your curse. But, there's one more lady who has to join us first."

"Are you talking about me, ma'am?"

I turned to look at where the voice was coming from and screamed, leaping behind Mrs. Eleanor. "SPIDER! There's a spider!"

The spider in question was a teenage girl, with a skateboard under her arm. She swiped her bangs out of her face and scowled. "Who knew Giant Pandas were such cowards?"

I took a moment to recollect myself. "Oh, you're cursed too. That's... sorry for getting so scared."

"Like I'm not used to it. My teacher throws a shoe at me every time I enter his class!" She put a hand on her hip. "I'm Alex! And yes, I'm cursed. Same as you two, I guess. Though, your animals are much better. I'm going to go deaf before I'm twenty from all the screams!"

"I'm afraid you won't have to worry about that." Mrs. Eleanor sighed, putting her hands in her pockets. "Your curse is much... worse than I ever thought possible."

Alex scoffed. "Please. What could be worse than constantly being screamed at because people think you're a spider?"

"Becoming a spider." Mrs. Eleanor looked to the floor.

I gasped, putting a hand to my mouth. "Wait. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Unfortunately, children. On your thirteenth birthday, all three of you will turn into the animal everyone thinks you are."

I groaned. "I can't turn into a Giant Panda! There's no bamboo here!"

"And I'd have to go live in the ocean." Drew sighed. "My mom hates the ocean."

Alex held on tighter to her skateboard. "Spiders are too small to skate! I'll have to give up my dreams because of a stupid curse?"

"It seems so children. The only advice I can give you is to do everything you can before that happens. There's no documented cure." Mrs. Eleanor sighed. "I'm sorry."

Alex stormed out of the library, knocking a chair to the floor with her skateboard. I had only just now met her, but I knew what she had to be feeling. Only Drew and I could understand her. So, I followed after her. "Alex! Alex, wait!"

When I made it out of the building, she was sitting on the steps, staring at the empty street. I sat beside her. "Alex...?"

"I turn thirteen in two months. In two months, I'm going to be a creepy crawly spider and someone's going to step on me because I'm scary!" She turned to me. "At least you're a panda! People love you. You'll probably end up in a zoo and get fawned over."

I sighed. "Yeah, you're right. But I think there's a cure out there and we have two months to find it. What do you say? Want to look for it with me?"

Alex stared at me for a while before nodding. "You know what? Yeah. There's nothing to lose."
She/He/They/Fae

“the wist i knew would never allow a straight boy in their stories” ~Omni
“Hi Omni can I request wist get the role mom friend :]" ~winter
“ah yes, fear Wist's smile :) <- speaks of layers and layers of secrets” ~mint




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Tue Aug 06, 2024 11:59 pm
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gruzinkerbell says...



Here's mine (over the word count, sorry) The title is 'The Cliffs of The Crooked'


Cynthia whipped her head around, nearly dropping the glass she had grabbed. She caught it with slippery fingers and stared at the woman in the doorway behind her. The woman had blonde hair, just like Cynthia’s, a cold gaze, and blood on her hands.
Her mother.
“What did you do?” Cynthia asked, her voice barely a whisper. “No… Where have you been?”
“Does it matter?” her mother replied, inching closer to Cynthia with her arms outstretched for a hug. Cynthia dodged her and gave her a glare. She was curious, but also cautious. She couldn’t expect to run to her mother with open arms after she had been gone for years, and that wasn’t even mentioning the blood on her hands.
“It does,” Cynthia said slowly. “You’ve been gone for what, five years? And with blood on your hands? Dad’s gone crazy looking for you, and you don’t even seem to care.”
“That’s because I don’t.”
Cynthia’s lips pressed together tightly as her mother’s words ran through her mind. All her life, her mother had cared too much. She cared that her own weakness would hurt others, she cared about how Cynthia spoke, walked, stood. Every minute detail about Cynthia’s life had been carefully thought out and cared for by her mother to make sure she was ready to be an officer. Until her mother disappeared. After that, life became less uptight and more repulsive. Her father had aimlessly called everyone he knew in the area, sifted through hundreds of maps, even tried to bribe the police department when they thought about dropping her mother’s case. All Cynthia had done in that time was stare out at the distant mountainside from her back porch, pondering her mother’s reasons for leaving. Her mother was too calculated to be kidnapped, too strong to be killed. It only left one other option- that she had left.
Something clicked in Cynthia’s mind.
“I don’t know what you came here for, but I do know that you did something to Dad. So before I call the cops and explain your entire scheme to them, I suggest you lead me to where 4th street is being held hostage.”
Her mother took a sharp breath. Silence filled the little apartment.
“Fine,” her mother hissed. “Get in your car. I’ll tell you where to go.”
After about thirty minutes of aimless wandering, Cynthia parked her car in the parking lot of Rust Mountain. A mother and her daughter laughed before entering a trail. Cynthia frowned at them.
“Alright, we’re here,” Cynthia side, unlocking the car and stepping out. “Where’s the unit?”
“Don’t think I would make it easy for you,” her mother chuckled. “They’re at the bottom of the abandoned quarry. If they slip, they fall into the water and drown. No ledges. No land. It’s wonderful.”
“Lovely,” Cynthia said under her breath. She locked her car before running onto the trail. The quarry was only a half mile away. If she kept up her pace, she would get there in five minutes
Cynthia skidded to a halt at the edge of the abandoned quarry. There were no people- just about fifty feet deep of water. A small cave was on the other side, a slope leading it to the water. If enough people on 4th street could swim well, they could have sfely made it to the cave. But that was a big if. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts before calling someone.
“Jimmy, my mom is here at the quarry,” she quickly said.
“That’s great news!”
“No, it’s isn’t,” Cynthia said through gritted teeth. “She claims all of 4th street is being held hostage in the quarry. But I don’t see anything.”
“What? Let me find Chief. We’ll send dispatch. Don’t let your mom out of your sight.”
“Got it.” She hung up and started backing away from the edge before bumping into someone.
“I thought you weren’t going to call them,” Cynthia’s mother growled. Cynthia put her hands up. For the first time since she saw her mother that day, she was afraid. The edge was right behind her. It was too easy for her to die.
“Look, mom,” Cynthia stuttered. “There’s at least twenty people down there fighting for their lives. I can’t just let them stay there without calling the police.”
“I know you can’t,” her mother smiled. “You were weak ever since the day you were born. I knew you could never be a police officer.”
“The why did you lead me on?” Cynthia scoffed. Her mother’s crooked smile turned wider.
“So that at the perfect moment, when you were broken, I could get sweet revenge on you and your father. Neither of you could have lived up to my expectations.”
Cynthia’s mother pushed her. She tripped and fell off the edge.
Cynthia didn’t remember much after that. But it all made sense. Her father was soft and frantic. Cynthia couldn’t handle failure.
And her mother was the only person who knew how to end it all.
Hello wonderful person. You're looking beautiful today :)




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Wed Aug 07, 2024 1:57 pm
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NadyaStatham says...



Thank you all for participating!







Memories, left untranslated, can be disowned; memories untranslatable can become someone else’s story.
— YiYun Li