What is a

Chatterbox: Pudding's Place

What is a

What is a beginning of a story?

The first of a series of events, setting up a change that a character goes through.

 

What is a story?

A place for the artist to build their creativity -- a world and setting and person to color, something to tell to the audience.

I would really rather not spend our precious time thinking about the true meaning of fiction itself. Nothing is quite so black and white. Instead, I invite you to come to this Ski Lodge to explore the worlds and characters you love.

---

You are in a roped-off area with several other children your age, all of which are nervously holding their collective breath. As an over-the-top, bubbly lady clutches a paper in her stiff, pale hand you hope for dear life that the name it reads is not your own.

You are sharing riding across a glassy river with several other first-years, a few on each boat. You are all very nervous to begin this new chapter in your life, but never the the less, excited, as the purple castle looms over you, beckoning you.

Your heart is pounding as you dash towards the hill which promised safety, the one with the pine tree. You are running blindly away from the monster as your best friend instructed you, but you have no idea what it is or how your friend could possibly know.

---

Hello. I am The Fictionalist.

I am the personification of the human’s imagination, and all of the stories it creates. A writer, no matter the medium used to express their story, is simply the fingerprint with which a story’s painting is painted.

This will not be spoiler-heavy but it will probably contain several minor spoilers. If you hate spoilers this might not be the Ski Lodge for you. Also, it might be a while until the first part comes out because I want to have the forms with me as I plan, especially because of Camp NaNoWriMo.

Form: (CBers only -- I will accept around ten people, maybe a few more)

Name:

Pronouns:

Appearance:

Personality:

Skills:

Fandoms/characters/places/etc. You want to see featured*:

*Even if it does not have a fandom, feel free to list it anyways! List as many as you want as there is no guarantee that I will know any of them. Oh, and no music fandoms -- only fictional things.

If one creates a story, what is to say that it is not real, if not in body but in mind?

Link to the original:

http://www.cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox/puddingsplace/node/465965

submitted by The Fictionalist, The Campus
(March 30, 2021 - 7:31 pm)

back to the Pudding's Place
submitted by TOP
(April 19, 2021 - 2:53 pm)

My Packing List: My many dream catchers, my scetchbook, my glitter (you never know when you may need it) my stuffed red panda, baby skunk and hedgehog (to remind me of my CAPTCHAS), 15 pencils (mechanical, of course), and my phone. Oh, also a magic can of spray paint, which never runs out and can change color.

*i just copied and pasted it from a different ski lodge*

Other Fandoms... Hmm... Does Animal Jam count XDXD Or Poptropica XD 

submitted by NiteSkiies
(April 20, 2021 - 7:56 am)
submitted by TOP
(April 24, 2021 - 7:06 pm)

Sorry this took so long! They should come out 1-2 times a week. Remember, more character/thing recommendations are always more than welcome. This will start out similarly to last time.

Day 1, Part 1

---

Poof. That was the noise that the CBers heard rushing though their heads right as they vanished from where they were with no explanation and appeared, standing in a semicircle together.

Silver Crystal had been reading. Wreeboo had been brushing her teeth. Themysticw0lf had been doing their homework. But regardless of the place or location of the sun, each of the CBers had felt a woosh as they were zapped out of where they were, as if by a vacuum cleaner, and suddenly reappeared . . . here. Wherever here was.

The CBers, of which there were about a dozen, looked around. There was lush green grass underneath their feet. The sky was a wonderful shade of blue with just the right amount of clouds and sun for a perfect day. And they were all facing a clean white wall of a building, about a story high, stretching far into the distance, far longer than it was tall.

The first to voice what every one of them was thinking was Jaybells. “Where are we?” she asked hesitantly. “How did we get here?” Niteskiies shook her head, as if to say “I have no idea.” Then she noticed three figures in the distanced, their silhouettes running towards the baffled CBers. 

The three people neared and the CBers could see that they were adolescents. The one in the middle had her hair in two red braids, a backpack, and very large, pointy ears as if someone had pulled and stretched them, like Mike Teavee in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She stopped and took a second to catch her breath. “Hi, I’m Cass.” 

She spoke in a no-nonsense tone. “You are at The Campus, a place of  stories and characters, run by The Fictionalist. You’ll meet her soon. You can ask questions then. These are my friends, Max-Ernest and Yo-Yoji.” Those were two odd names.

The one whom Cass referred to as “Max-Ernest” was rather short and had hair that spiked up in all directions, no shorter or longer in any one part or another.

“Hi, I’m Max-Ernest. But you already knew that because she said so, didn’t she, how bout’ that? Anyways, I’m sure you have lots of questions, I would too if I was in your position, and I suppose I do right now anyways! We’ll take you to The Campus where you’ll get to meet all sorts of cool characters. How bout’ that?” The boy had an odd way of speaking, as if he talked on a hamster wheel, rarely slowing down, stopping, or even pausing for breath.

The one called Yo-Yoji took a step forward. His most noticeable features were probably the yellow sneakers he had on. Bright, neon yellow sneakers. He was wearing a T-shirt that said Alien Earache on it.  “Hey, man. Hope you have a good time here.”

Lightning Girl just gaped. Who was this odd trio? “So, a place of fiction, huh? Are you three, like, fictional characters or something?” Said Nerdface.

Max-Ernest was the first to reply. “Well, yeah! We are from a story! But The Fictionalist created new versions of us to come here on The Campus -- how bout’ that? But we can’t actually tell you what we’re from. You see, it’s a secret!” For whatever reason, he looked delighted. Cass huffed.

“Come on, we should get going already.”

“Why are you so grumpy, yo?” asked Yo-Yoji. Bewildered, the CBers followed the three characters along the side of the building which was not, in fact, never-ending. Some of the CBers started conversations with the three fictional characters, delighted to have the opportunity to converse with someone from a story and burning with questions. Twilight talked to Yo-Yoji about his rock band back in Japan, Alien Earache. Kitty Cat asked Cass many questions, most of which she replied with a “The Fictionalist can answer that later.” Eventually, the CBers came to the corner of the building. 

“The building that you just walked along the side of was Building 2.” Cass announced “Buildings 3 and 4 are shaped the same and 1 looks pretty similar. They all enclose a courtyard.” The CBers rounded the corner and now they could see that the building had been much longer than it had been wide -- the other corner was just 10 yards away, possibly less.

“In the center of the courtyard,” Cass continued, adjusting the straps of her oversized backpack, “is Building 5. That’s where we are headed.”

In the courtyard there were lovely flowers and fountains and several people strolling by in the distance. It was cool, but the CBers didn’t get much time to appreciate it. They strolled across the courtyard, getting more anticipated for what was to come by the second. The CBers could see Building 5 in the center. When Cass opened the door of the round building whose roof was slanting in to a point in the center and the others followed, what  was inside did not disappoint. 

--- 

submitted by The Fictionalist, The Campus
(April 26, 2021 - 6:07 pm)

This is good! Can I add new to my character and fandoms? 

My hero academia: really any charries from that but in detail, Bakugo, Deku, Momo, Jiro, All Might.

Sailor moon too. 

submitted by Kitty Cat, PLUS ULTRA!
(April 28, 2021 - 8:54 am)

Oooh, can't wait to see what happens next! Love this!

submitted by Silver Crystal, age Infinity, Milky Way
(April 28, 2021 - 10:11 am)

I love this so much! Keep writing!

submitted by NerdFace, age 14, trapped in time and space
(April 28, 2021 - 2:36 pm)

This. Is. So. COOL!

submitted by Writing_in_the_dark, age 11, NY but not NYC
(April 28, 2021 - 3:27 pm)
submitted by PART 1!
(April 26, 2021 - 6:19 pm)

TOP!

submitted by PART 1 IS OUT, age (The, Fictionalist), The Campus
(April 27, 2021 - 3:22 pm)

TOP!

submitted by PART 1 IS OUT, age (The, Fictionalist), The Campus
(April 28, 2021 - 6:24 am)
Day 1, Part 2: 
--- 
The CBers walked through the short entrance hall, with one low-hanging chandelier lighting the place. They quickly turned the corner.
Quill gasped. There were sections of the walls that seemed to shift and morph themselves into different shapes and color. They didn’t just move. They danced. They were neither abstract shapes nor concrete images but something in between. The carpet was woven with shimmering, intricate designs. At Silver Crystal's feet were several of what appeared to be combinations between turtles and ducks, gliding across a glassy lake in a straight line. Over near Lighting Girl was a shimmering egg, glowing and pulsating with light, as it hatched in the middle of a storm. One design lead to the next, which lead to the next, making themysticw0lf, who was staring down at it, dizzy as their eyes skipped from place to place.
And of course, there were the windows, spaced evenly across the walls to places that were certainly too vast for the building to accommodate. Perhaps they didn’t even exist. Niteskiies peered through one which lead to some sort of arena with two dragons facing off in it, one brown with slight golden undertones, the other an older, icy white dragon, both of their wings furled with chains, rendering them unable to fly. Dragons of different colors, but particularly red and orange, were sitting (how did dragons sit?) in a stadium around it. Above, what looked like prisoners were attached to each other by a chain, high in the sky, and there was a palace was in the distance -- beyond that, mountains. That was COOL, thought Niteskiies. There were many other things like it, all equally amazing and real-feeling, like the mysterious-feeling pool at the bottom of a stone hollow, with cats gathered sound, their eyes glowing bright in the cool night, a star-like quality about some of their pelts.
“Come on, let’s get going,” said Cass, clearly nonchalant about her surroundings. 
Max-Earnest kept up a running commentary, not bothering to check if anyone was listening to him. “Those windows aren’t actually windows, you know. If you tried to open them, which is silly because you can’t anyways, you wouldn’t be able to crawl through into those scenes, they’re just illusions. How bout’ that? Then again, maybe they are . . .”
The CBers began to follow Cass, but they weren’t the only ones who were wandering the halls. Occasionally, they would see others pass by. At one point, A shabby-looking man in a cloak passed. 
“Was that Remus Lupin . . . ?” asked Luna.
“I think it might have been, yo,” said Yo-Yoji.
Later the group came into a small, square room, desolate of anything but a small table with a  tank on it. Inside the tank was a bearded dragon. It was labeled “Stan.”
“Aww!” said Jaybells. “Is there anyone here to take care of him?”
Stan stared at the group fo a minute. Then, he stood up and waved. Yes, he literally waved. Most of the group burst out laughing. Stan retuned to his previous position. 
The CBers, plus the other trio, the other trio, soon came to a closed door. Judging from the cheering and shrieks of excitement behind it, something intense and competitive was going on.
An arm wrestling competition. This was the first thing that Writing_in_the_Dark noticed after they stepped into the room -- that is, right after all of the bright lights and noises. 
Two people were locked in fierce competition. On the right, an enormous woman draped in silks all different colors of indigo. She had olive skin, deep brown eyes set close together, and caterpillar-like eyebrows. Her dark, shoulder-length hair was tangled and hidden for the most part underneath the silks. The crowds cheering around her were made of pretty much all sorts of creatures, even one or two small unicorns, but mainly humans. 
On the left was a man who was certainly tall but looked almost small compared to the giant he was arm-wrestling. He had hair which was mainly black and close-cropped with an undercut, but also a floofy white part. He had a scar across his nose like a pink stripe. His right arm, the one he was using to wrestle the other, was actually a prosthetic, disconnected at the shoulder but from the elbow to the fingertips much bulkier than a regular arm. It almost appeared to be moving on it’s own as it was disconnected from the man. On his side there seemed to be many alien-type creatures cheering.
They were in the middle of their “combat” and the CBers couldn’t help themselves. They instantly took sides. Writing, Quill, and Wree took the side of the woman draped in silks. Luna, Twi, and Kitty, supported the man with the prosthetic arm. Others didn’t take sides. Nox tried to pretend like they didn’t care but kept secretly glancing back at the match. 
It was no more than a minute long, but that’s still long by arm-wrestling match standards. The two seemed evenly matched and they even trash talked each other a bit.
“You don’t stand a chance,” said the second. The first scoffed.
“Are you kidding? I created you, of course I can win.” She responded.
“And you created me to do just this.” Said the man. The large woman, who had appeared to be winning, was suddenly overcome by the second person, who slammed her fist against the table with his, as if to prove his point. The giant woman shouted in rage, than regained her temper. The crowd on the CBer’s left filled with aliens cheered, the other booed. The silk-clad one raised her voice over the din to shout: 
“The winner of this match is Shiro!” Then, lowering her voice and narrowing her eyebrows slightly she said “That means nothing about next time.”
The woman seemed to notice the CBers for the first time, who were, for the most part, either celebrating or sulking. She began to squeeze through the crowd, although she didn’t have much need to because most of the people (fictional characters? Maybe? That’s what Nerdface had begun suspecting, excitement rising in them) respectfully parted around her.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” she said gruffly. “I’m The Fictionalist. It’s loud in here -- let’s find a place to introduce ourselves and talk, shall we?”
---
Do you think I should make a list of references after each part? 
submitted by The Fictionalist, The Campus
(May 2, 2021 - 1:51 pm)

So good! And ye si would like that

submitted by Kitty Cat, age PLUS ULTRA, They\Them!
(May 2, 2021 - 2:16 pm)

This is A M A Z I N G!!!!!!!! I'd totaly side with The Fictionalist! *clapping!*

submitted by Writing_in_the_dark, age 11, NY but not NYC
(May 2, 2021 - 2:29 pm)

We have officially made it further than last time! *claps* I deserve a not-as-much-of-a-disloyal-writer-as-I-could-have-been award. ;) Let's see if the formatting works this time!

Day 1, Part 3

--- 

The Fictionalist. That was the one that the CBers had been waiting to meet, wasn’t it? Yes, they were quite sure of it. She was why they were here, at “The Campus” or whatever it was called.

 

Two people peeled apart from the crowd to join the group. The first was a young woman in a ruby red dress, her skirt swishing just slightly by her heels. She had perfect makeup, perfect hair, perfect, well . . . everything. Nothing about her was even a hair out of place. Even the frown creasing her lips seemed to be curved just so, and her narrowed eyes had a look of purpose in them.

 

In contrast, there was the adolescent standing next to her who looked to be about 12. He was a bedraggled, clumsy boy with unfocused eyes, unkempt brown hair, and an untucked, crinkled shirt, stumbling around slightly as if he had forgotten where he was or how to walk quite right. There postures differed wildly, too. One, straight and tall, the other, slumped over.

 

The Fictionalist seemed to tense just slightly when they came, Silver noticed, but The Fictionalist let them tag along with the CBers. They headed into a smaller room than the one before, probably just a bit bigger than the one that had contained the bearded dragon, Stan. On one side of the floor were beanbags, scattered about which the CBers sat on. On  the other side of the room was a table with rows of black bags underneath it. The Fictionalist on the table, which gained slightly under her weight. She must have been eight feet tall! 

 

The other two stood next to her, the neat woman to her left, the spacy boy to her right. 

 

“Hello, I am The Fictionalist,” She announced. She used her hands very expressively when she talked, motioning a lot, making the indigo silks on her arms ripple and shimmer. “And these are Lacun and Iris.” The boy to her right was Lacun, the other was Iris. “I am the personification of . . . oh, some would say the human capacity for imagination, others would say all that it has created and will create. Lacun is the personification of plot holes, wandering minds, forgetful authors. And Iris is . . that little voice in an artist’s head, telling them that their terrible, will never be good enough, and must fix everything now.”

 

“I can’t BELIEVE you would let that man BEAT you!” Iris shrieked. “How could you let HIM!? You are WORTHLESS if you can’t even beat your own character at arm wrestling -- how do you expect to get any fans whatsoever??? Nobody will care about you, OR your work!!” 

 

Wreeboo winced. She understood how that felt -- not good. At all.

“S’what? It’s just arm wrestling . . . wait, how is that related to anything?” muttered Lacun.

 

The Fictionalist took a sharp breath in, then slowly let it out. Then she smiled, but it didn’t seem quite real, even for someone named “The Fictionalist.”

 

“Anyways, that’s who we are.” She continued patiently. “ This place is called The Campus. It’s a place of fiction which I have created for you. Be prepared to meet a lot of fictional characters. I believe Cass has already introduced the basic layout of the place to you.” Cass, who was standing in the corner with the other two, nodded. “Well then. Your dorms are in building 1 -- so are the dorms of the characters who are staying here. Outside of buildings 1-5 are rivers, streams, hills, and a forest for a few miles in each direction.”

 

“Actually, there is only one river, but plenty of streams,” Iris corrected.

 

The Fictionalist continued, ignoring her. “Scattered among that area are what I’m calling “attractions.” There are a couple smaller ones in the courtyard, too. These are basically locations and things from different stories. Schedules will be handed out later today. There are snacks in your dorms. Each day you will have a series of activities such as exploring this place, playing games, meeting characters, and downtime. Those will mostly start tomorrow. Before we begin our first activity, are there any questions?

 

A few hands were raised. 

 

“Yes, Quill?”

 

“How often will you be appearing? Like, will we only get to see you once or twice or more often?”

 

“What kind fo question is that, Quill? That’s a dumb question. Are You some sort of i--” snapped Iris, who was quickly cut off by the Fictionalist who proceeded to give Iris a death glare.

 

“I have taken more than enough of your insulting and worrying me! You may never, never, do this to anyone else or my guests!” She turned to Quill. “I’m sorry about that, really. Sometimes Iris just loses control, I guess. And to answer your question -- I am your host. I will usually not be the ones guiding you but I will appear frequently.” Another hand went up. It was Kitty Cat.

 

“Will we get three meals a day? Do we get snack when not in our dorms? Will we have to stay in these clothes the whole time? Will you write stories about our pasts and share them with us? And, final question, how many trees are on The Campus?” The Fictionalist seemed to consider this for a moment.

 

“Yes, yes, no, no, 10,552.” The CBers were stunned slightly. “Now, it is time for --” 

 

“When do we get snack?” asked Lacun. “I’m hungry.” 

 

“Err, not now!” Cried The Fictionalist. “Now it is time for you first activity: to pick team names!”

---

Important references: N/A

Other references: I'm afraid this part doesn't have any, unless we are including everything in this comment in which case we've got an Avatar: The Last Airbender reference. Shall I gather the references from the previous parts? 

submitted by The Fictionalist, The Campus
(May 6, 2021 - 4:44 pm)
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