26 Jun 2025, 13:59
Let's Chat!
So i would have these realistic dreams and then a couple months or a year later the dream actually happens irl!!
"Where's the bloody rum?" -Captain Jack Sparrow
Lily McCoire/ Alicia Matthews
Phoenix Zhang
26 Jun 2025, 14:04
Let's Chat!
HUH!?!?Lily Isobel McCoire wrote: 26 Jun 2025, 13:59So i would have these realistic dreams and then a couple months or a year later the dream actually happens irl!!
26 Jun 2025, 14:07
Let's Chat!
That’s… interesting. How long have you had it?Lily Isobel McCoire wrote: 26 Jun 2025, 13:59So i would have these realistic dreams and then a couple months or a year later the dream actually happens irl!!
| PC Piper Hart - Slytherin | |
Sta: x | Eva: x | Str: x | Wis: x | Arc: x | Acc: x |
Sta: x | Eva: x | Str: x | Wis: x | Arc: x | Acc: x |
26 Jun 2025, 14:08
Let's Chat!
LOLPhoenix Zhang wrote: 26 Jun 2025, 14:04HUH!?!?Lily Isobel McCoire wrote: 26 Jun 2025, 13:59So i would have these realistic dreams and then a couple months or a year later the dream actually happens irl!!
so i had a dream about a year or so ago that we moved into this house with steps and the bathroom is blue and all and I'm fixing it up, with like decor and all yes ik weird dream
and then esterday , in my new house with a blue bathroom, i'm hanging the decor up and it's the same as what was in the dream cause i got the deja vu
"Where's the bloody rum?" -Captain Jack Sparrow
Lily McCoire/ Alicia Matthews
26 Jun 2025, 14:14
Let's Chat!
Oh wow! That is weird!
Can someone give me feedback on this please?? It’s a thing for school from the perspective of Macbeth after he kills Banquo and some other stuff happens
Can someone give me feedback on this please?? It’s a thing for school from the perspective of Macbeth after he kills Banquo and some other stuff happens
Reducio
Banquo. Loyal, noble Banquo. I called him a brother once, he was my friend. He trusted me and I smiled all the while plotting his death. And why? Because I had no choice. He knew too much. The witches prophesied that his sons would be kings - his, not mine. What does that make me, then? Am I but a disposable factor in this game of life? A rung on the ladder that his son calls his? No. I could not let that stand. I wear this crown, yet if Banquo lived he and his line would steal it from me. What was I meant to do? Let all I’ve done - the dagger, the blood, the lies - pave the way for his heirs? No. I had to act.
So I sent the men. Gave them reason to believe he was their enemy though I barely believed the words myself. I thought it would be quick and clean, and it was - almost. But Fleance escaped. Slipped through their fingers like the fading light. The boy still lives, and with him, the prophecy lives too. I thought I’d bring myself peace, but all I’ve done is instill greater fear.
Then came the ghost. His ghost. I saw him, risen from the grave to haunt me, his eyes full of blame. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. He sat in my chair. My throne. The one I had killed to earn. He sat there, as if to say, “This should have been mine.” And I spoke to him. In front of all of them. Nobles. Lords. My wife.
I shamed myself before the lords. And Lady Macbeth - oh the way she looked at me. Cold and sharp. Like she did not recognise me. Like she was the one seeing a ghost. She told me to stop. To smile. To hide it. But how can I, when Banquo’s ghost follows me with accusation so loud it pierces the deadliest of silences? She used to be the strong one. But now? Now, I think even she fears me. Or pities me. Or both.
I thought killing Duncan would end everything, I’d be free. But I fear it began something much darker, and now I am in too deep. There’s no end to this now. I feel more trapped than ever. With threats around every corner. Whispers in every hall. Each drop of blood calls for another. They say, blood will have blood. And now I believe it.
I do not sleep. I do not trust. Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t. I see daggers where there are none, and ghosts where joy should be. I worry about those who may suspect. I worry what the witches said is wrong. I worry I will lose everything after all I’ve done.
But no. There is no turning back now. I must go on. I’ve walked too far into this storm to turn back now. I must strike. Stronger. Harder. Faster. The crown is mine and I will not let it slip. Even if it burns. Even if the world drowns. Even if it kills me.
And the worst part? I think it will.
So I sent the men. Gave them reason to believe he was their enemy though I barely believed the words myself. I thought it would be quick and clean, and it was - almost. But Fleance escaped. Slipped through their fingers like the fading light. The boy still lives, and with him, the prophecy lives too. I thought I’d bring myself peace, but all I’ve done is instill greater fear.
Then came the ghost. His ghost. I saw him, risen from the grave to haunt me, his eyes full of blame. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. He sat in my chair. My throne. The one I had killed to earn. He sat there, as if to say, “This should have been mine.” And I spoke to him. In front of all of them. Nobles. Lords. My wife.
I shamed myself before the lords. And Lady Macbeth - oh the way she looked at me. Cold and sharp. Like she did not recognise me. Like she was the one seeing a ghost. She told me to stop. To smile. To hide it. But how can I, when Banquo’s ghost follows me with accusation so loud it pierces the deadliest of silences? She used to be the strong one. But now? Now, I think even she fears me. Or pities me. Or both.
I thought killing Duncan would end everything, I’d be free. But I fear it began something much darker, and now I am in too deep. There’s no end to this now. I feel more trapped than ever. With threats around every corner. Whispers in every hall. Each drop of blood calls for another. They say, blood will have blood. And now I believe it.
I do not sleep. I do not trust. Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t. I see daggers where there are none, and ghosts where joy should be. I worry about those who may suspect. I worry what the witches said is wrong. I worry I will lose everything after all I’ve done.
But no. There is no turning back now. I must go on. I’ve walked too far into this storm to turn back now. I must strike. Stronger. Harder. Faster. The crown is mine and I will not let it slip. Even if it burns. Even if the world drowns. Even if it kills me.
And the worst part? I think it will.
| PC Piper Hart - Slytherin | |
Sta: x | Eva: x | Str: x | Wis: x | Arc: x | Acc: x |
Sta: x | Eva: x | Str: x | Wis: x | Arc: x | Acc: x |
26 Jun 2025, 14:22
Let's Chat!
ONE THIS IS AMAZING!!!!!!!!!Piper Hart wrote: 26 Jun 2025, 14:14 Oh wow! That is weird!
Can someone give me feedback on this please?? It’s a thing for school from the perspective of Macbeth after he kills Banquo and some other stuff happens
ReducioBanquo. Loyal, noble Banquo. I called him a brother once, he was my friend. He trusted me and I smiled all the while plotting his death. And why? Because I had no choice. He knew too much. The witches prophesied that his sons would be kings - his, not mine. What does that make me, then? Am I but a disposable factor in this game of life? A rung on the ladder that his son calls his? No. I could not let that stand. I wear this crown, yet if Banquo lived he and his line would steal it from me. What was I meant to do? Let all I’ve done - the dagger, the blood, the lies - pave the way for his heirs? No. I had to act.
So I sent the men. Gave them reason to believe he was their enemy though I barely believed the words myself. I thought it would be quick and clean, and it was - almost. But Fleance escaped. Slipped through their fingers like the fading light. The boy still lives, and with him, the prophecy lives too. I thought I’d bring myself peace, but all I’ve done is instill greater fear.
Then came the ghost. His ghost. I saw him, risen from the grave to haunt me, his eyes full of blame. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. He sat in my chair. My throne. The one I had killed to earn. He sat there, as if to say, “This should have been mine.” And I spoke to him. In front of all of them. Nobles. Lords. My wife.
I shamed myself before the lords. And Lady Macbeth - oh the way she looked at me. Cold and sharp. Like she did not recognise me. Like she was the one seeing a ghost. She told me to stop. To smile. To hide it. But how can I, when Banquo’s ghost follows me with accusation so loud it pierces the deadliest of silences? She used to be the strong one. But now? Now, I think even she fears me. Or pities me. Or both.
I thought killing Duncan would end everything, I’d be free. But I fear it began something much darker, and now I am in too deep. There’s no end to this now. I feel more trapped than ever. With threats around every corner. Whispers in every hall. Each drop of blood calls for another. They say, blood will have blood. And now I believe it.
I do not sleep. I do not trust. Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t. I see daggers where there are none, and ghosts where joy should be. I worry about those who may suspect. I worry what the witches said is wrong. I worry I will lose everything after all I’ve done.
But no. There is no turning back now. I must go on. I’ve walked too far into this storm to turn back now. I must strike. Stronger. Harder. Faster. The crown is mine and I will not let it slip. Even if it burns. Even if the world drowns. Even if it kills me.
And the worst part? I think it will.
and two i've had it for a while
"Where's the bloody rum?" -Captain Jack Sparrow
Lily McCoire/ Alicia Matthews
26 Jun 2025, 14:29
Let's Chat!
Oh my God, it is so good!Piper Hart wrote: 26 Jun 2025, 14:14 Oh wow! That is weird!
Can someone give me feedback on this please?? It’s a thing for school from the perspective of Macbeth after he kills Banquo and some other stuff happens
ReducioBanquo. Loyal, noble Banquo. I called him a brother once, he was my friend. He trusted me and I smiled all the while plotting his death. And why? Because I had no choice. He knew too much. The witches prophesied that his sons would be kings - his, not mine. What does that make me, then? Am I but a disposable factor in this game of life? A rung on the ladder that his son calls his? No. I could not let that stand. I wear this crown, yet if Banquo lived he and his line would steal it from me. What was I meant to do? Let all I’ve done - the dagger, the blood, the lies - pave the way for his heirs? No. I had to act.
So I sent the men. Gave them reason to believe he was their enemy though I barely believed the words myself. I thought it would be quick and clean, and it was - almost. But Fleance escaped. Slipped through their fingers like the fading light. The boy still lives, and with him, the prophecy lives too. I thought I’d bring myself peace, but all I’ve done is instill greater fear.
Then came the ghost. His ghost. I saw him, risen from the grave to haunt me, his eyes full of blame. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. He sat in my chair. My throne. The one I had killed to earn. He sat there, as if to say, “This should have been mine.” And I spoke to him. In front of all of them. Nobles. Lords. My wife.
I shamed myself before the lords. And Lady Macbeth - oh the way she looked at me. Cold and sharp. Like she did not recognise me. Like she was the one seeing a ghost. She told me to stop. To smile. To hide it. But how can I, when Banquo’s ghost follows me with accusation so loud it pierces the deadliest of silences? She used to be the strong one. But now? Now, I think even she fears me. Or pities me. Or both.
I thought killing Duncan would end everything, I’d be free. But I fear it began something much darker, and now I am in too deep. There’s no end to this now. I feel more trapped than ever. With threats around every corner. Whispers in every hall. Each drop of blood calls for another. They say, blood will have blood. And now I believe it.
I do not sleep. I do not trust. Not because I don’t want to, but because I can’t. I see daggers where there are none, and ghosts where joy should be. I worry about those who may suspect. I worry what the witches said is wrong. I worry I will lose everything after all I’ve done.
But no. There is no turning back now. I must go on. I’ve walked too far into this storm to turn back now. I must strike. Stronger. Harder. Faster. The crown is mine and I will not let it slip. Even if it burns. Even if the world drowns. Even if it kills me.
And the worst part? I think it will.
26 Jun 2025, 14:29
Let's Chat!
One, thank you!!
Two, what is your weirdest one?
And three, would you like to read some of my other stuff and give me feedback? I’d really like if someone did
Thanks Taiki!
Two, what is your weirdest one?
And three, would you like to read some of my other stuff and give me feedback? I’d really like if someone did
Thanks Taiki!
| PC Piper Hart - Slytherin | |
Sta: x | Eva: x | Str: x | Wis: x | Arc: x | Acc: x |
Sta: x | Eva: x | Str: x | Wis: x | Arc: x | Acc: x |
26 Jun 2025, 14:35
Let's Chat!
One of course!Piper Hart wrote: 26 Jun 2025, 14:29 One, thank you!!
Two, what is your weirdest one?
And three, would you like to read some of my other stuff and give me feedback? I’d really like if someone did
Thanks Taiki!
Two my weirdest dream ever didn't come true but i'll tell you, my old house in florida was overrun by snakes, all kinds of snakes and they were coming after me and my parents and we were standing on furniture trying to get away from them
three YES!!!!!!!!
"Where's the bloody rum?" -Captain Jack Sparrow
Lily McCoire/ Alicia Matthews