A Budgie

Exactly. The idea sounds adorable, but I know it'd just be trouble.

Now half of me wants to do this, but the other half is all 'what the figgins no that's stupid.'

*MORE HUGS* I hope you feel better soon. Things sound tough as it is, and something else happening on top of it would be even worse. Just remember we're all here for you.

I haven't seen it either, and I don't think anyone I know has...but that's probably because films take ages to get over here. Now I want to see it though.

I have a little notebook that's got notes in it on worldbuilding, plot, characters, etc. But as I came up with new/better ideas, some things became redundant. I also have a little section on the word document itself that has some stuff about the world and its culture. As for characters, I'll sometimes invent them and decide their personalities beforehand, but at other times they just...happen. I have literally no idea where one of my character's personality comes from.

Depends on what nationality you want her, but the first name to pop into my head is Rose.

I want to buy something off the Brandon Sanderson site but I want to buy everything...but since it's too expensive I'll only get one thing. I was thinking jewellery, probably one of the SA glyphs because they're the cheapest, but I don't know which one I should get...

You get Lobster Dinner for Two (with Chips!) *inserts wool*

@Darkness Ascendant while I appreciate the pun, my first thought upon seeing that was 'how did they manage to get the writing to look so smooth? It looks like they've glued the thread on or something!'

@TwiLyghtSansSparkles *hugs* I hope things get better.

@Quiver I'm really bad at coming up with plots too. I have random ideas, and stuff I want to happen, but no idea how they happen...

You get the scream (of adorableness, not pain...for now) of a thousand tourists! *inserts chocolate hot cross bun*

Yep, that's right everyone. Quokkas aren't particularly dangerous, and although one did try to break my neck, that's because I tripped over it. Dropbears don't exist, although koalas do. @bleeder sorry to misslead you, but me and my aussie friends always do something like this on forums.

@Darkness Ascendant yeah, she's been steering clear of trees so hopefully that helps. @bleeder actually, there was an article about quokkas the other day...sorry it's sideways.

The text is supposed to have all the clues you need to solve it. Sorry, but there you go.

Try doing that, and it'll tear your face off. One almost broke my neck.

Oh, she's been here her whole life. She just watches too many British tv shows.

Buttered?

You get bandaid socks! *purs in water*

Common, I should think. We don't have many mammoth ones over here. It's rather a good thing; as it is they're rather a pest and eat birds...

@Darkness Ascendant dropbears are pretty bad too. One of my friend was almost eaten by one! But then she started talking in an australian accent, and that seemed to frighten it off.

Okay, @StrikerEZ and @Hemalurgic_Headshot I'll send you PMs to let you know the solution.

@Hemalurgic_Headshot no, but very good guess. And I didn't tell you how long the body has been there because the ME hasn't figured that out yet.

So, this is a thing you may have heard of. Baciscally, you read this mystery, and try to guess what happened... “Now, don’t read that book the entire time,” whispered Swara’s mother as they went into the room, “I know you’ve almost found out who the murderer is, but you know it’s better for you to be social.” “Yes, mother,” she sighed, tucking the book into her bag. She went over to where her aunt was standing. “Aunt Arabelle.” “Ah, Swara! How’s things going?” “Good, thanks. Where’s Uncle Martin?” “He’s just grabbing something, I think. He’d better get here soon, though, it is his party after all.” “Wouldn’t have thought he would have had it in him,” said a man standing nearby. “Eh?” Swara recognised the man as Jake Chou, uncle Martin’s secretary. “A party, that is. He’s usually quite a cool customer. Doesn’t bother chatting with any of his underlings.” “He’s just quiet,” said Advik, another co-worker. “He works hard, and he doesn’t like to be disturbed.” They engaged in small talk like this for a while. Arabelle’s husband Gavin joined in after a while, as did a few other minor relatives. Swara’s older cousin Tatws talked about a trip he was planning to research the night parrot in rural Australia, and Aunt Isabelle in turn boasted about the trip to Italy she had gone on last holiday. A bottle of champagne was opened with a loud popping sound at some unidentifiable point in the night, and most of the adults had a glass or two. Jake had three, when he thought no-one was looking. Aunt Arabelle and Gavin disappeared into the kitchen for a while to check on the dinner meal that was cooking, and while they were there Swara had to listen to Advik drone on about the intricacies of his job as a mechanic. Luckily, Tatws came to the rescue to chat about birds, and she escaped the lecture until he went on a toilet break. She was almost tempted to feign something similar herself when a loud scream came. All heads turned to see Aunt Isabelle stumble out of a little side room, one hand bloody. “It’s Martin! He’s been shot!” “So, what’s the story here?” asked Detective Watts. “Well, this man, Martin Ackroyd, was found dead by his sister Isabelle. He hosted a party for his birthday, but when he failed to turn up she went looking for him. He was found here, in this chair.” “Yes, I can see that.” “As the chair had its back to the door, at first Isabelle didn’t see he was dead. Oh, and we found the gun that he was shot with, too. It was under the couch there, next to the chair.” “Thank you, officer,” said the Detective, looking at the spot. “Do we have any good suspects?” “Not in the slightest. This’ll take a while.” “No it won’t,” said Swara, entering the room. “I’ve figured out exactly who did it.”

You get a chef! *inserts laptop case*