#xleafyheartx

Carter kept a brisk pace as she walked into the forest behind the compound, her shoulders drawn tight as she kept her hands shoved into the pockets of her leather jacket. her skin prickled uncomfortably, her chest tight as she forced herself to try and breathe, and she just hoped no one would come looking for her.

Frankly, she wasn't even sure what set off her anxiety, but she just... couldn't be inside the compound any longer. Couldn't bear being near any of the others. But she was trying to let herself let her guard down - trying to tell herself that they wouldn't hurt her like Obadiah had claimed. That they were her friends, but she couldn't--

She froze. Did she just hear...?

Slowly, she turned towards the voice, and froze again - blinking once, then twice. There, a few feet away from her, was... well, what looked to be a twelve-inch tree. That spoke. To her. And... was waving at her. As far as she could tell, it was... a moving, talking tree. 

She’d seen plenty of weird things in the past few years, but... nothing like this, and her mind went blank. She had no idea what she should do - if she needed to run and get the others, or if she should actually talk to it. Was she hallucinating? Anything seemed possible at that point.

“Waaaaahhhh!” Jix exclaimed. “Entire planet of fun stuff with carni-vals?! That sounds like so much fun to Jix!” He really wished he could go on more adventures with the Doctor. “Have to take Jix sometime. Want to eat all the good things and go on aaaallll the adventures!” He was so excited he bounced on his roots a little.

The Doctor couldn’t stop himself chuckling at Jixs’ enthusiasm. “Okay, okay! We’ll go, I promise!” He thought for a moment. “Actually...I think I left my best sunglasses back there. Do you want to go now?”

Harry was just trying to have a normal day. And it was blissfully and utterly normal. He hadn’t woken up to the sound of monsters tearing at him. He had eaten breakfast without the White Council not bothering him. And yet, here he was grocery shopping, and he could sense something not mortal there.

Alice was recording once again -- hopeful that someone would find her accounts one day. She knew it was useless, but she needed something to cling to in this deadly world. “...I’ve seen no sources of survivors in two weeks, but the infected have dwindled in the area. Maybe it’s the weather? Can they sense better climate and roam in that direction?” 

Turning off the machine, she slipped it into her pocket as she focused ahead, her gun ready at her side. 

When she heard a voice, she paused, tensing while looking around for the source. Her eyes fell downwards, a small green thing running at her. 

@xleafyheartx cont. from here:

Charlotte had been enjoying the morning, sitting at a small table outside of a cafe with a cup of coffee and a bagel before her. It was a lovely spring day, nice and cool, with not a cloud in the sky. Things were calm and quiet; it was actually a good day.

Once she had finished up her coffee and bagel, she paid and began walking down the street, determined to enjoy the day. She had been staring down at the sidewalk, watching a couple pigeons hunt for a few crumbs, when she spotted a strange green thing, seemingly walking past her like a human would. She stopped, mind going blank for a moment as she tried to figure out what she had just seen, before turning back around to bend down and grab it.

With @xleafyheartx | continued from here

Atticus let himself smirk a little, happy in his knowledge that he was right about the pickle and admittedly amused by the little twig’s reaction. Was he a twig? Atticus wasn’t sure and hadn’t thought to ask. Before he could, the discussion began again. “Well, actually, it used to be a cucumber, before it was pickled. I have no idea why they call it that.”

He was lost in thought for a moment, sifting through the knowledge in his brain to see if he knew the answer. He had an affinity for pointless facts. Soon enough, he was distracted again, though, and looked up from his forgotten sandwich. “Tasty?” he repeated. “It’s compared to what you mean by tasty. Some people like sweet things, some people like salty things, some people even like spicy things, but I am definitely not one of those.” 

He dug around in his satchel, pulling out various items he’d planned on eating at work, later. There was a granola bar, an apple, two wedges of cheese, and a handful of cocktail sausages. “Take your pick,” he offered, and then frowned at the realisation that he was offering his dinner to a strange, little creature, who’d been blowing raspberries at him only moments ago. “Who are you, anyway?” he demanded, a little more forcefully than he’d intended.

@xleafyheartx