#yyhalloween

Finn at least knew about the fog shit this year, but nothing could have prepared him for what it was gonna do to him! He woke up in a nightmarishly vast bed, no taller than his normal palm length, having to find a way down. After sliding down his duvet he crossed over the edge of his bed he then had to trudge theough his carpet. It feel like fighting through a light pink feild of brush allbthe way across the room to his close. When he gets there at least tiny clothes were waiting for him, that could have been much worse. He feel vibrations growing stronger under his feet and the unmistakable yet strangely cutting tingle of Tank's ID tags.

He puts a hand out to the dog for sniffs and for a second he fears getting sucked up but never feared being hurt by his best buddy. "Hey boy," he pets the top of his nose as Tank lays down infront of him, resting his head on his pars. "its time to go out isn't he asks and sees his floppy ears perked up.

pu! ekaw, pu! ekaw, pu! ekaw

The words echoed in Tara’s subconscious, an attempt to pull her from a deep slumber. Her phone was lit up, 3:33 AM shining on the screen. Witching hour. In her bed, Tara was sat up right, mouth moving, words falling from her lips, though she was still totally unconscious.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, glowing a soft purple color that seemed to illuminate the darker space. She was still her, but there was something new inside of her, something propelling her forward.

“sdrac torat.” Again, a voice that was hers but foreign to her filled the room as she sat on the middle of her floor. “tlas.” Both her Tarot Cards and salt seemed to appear from nowhere. She doesn’t question it, in the moment is all makes sense. On the floor, she draws a protection circle, followed by a star on the inside. “Seldnac.” with that command, mini tea lights floated from her closet, “thgil.” The candles situated themselves into the proper spots on the protection circle before lighting themselves.

An hour later her room was filled with various items, tea lights the only source of light in the room. Her eyes were still glowing, a map spread out on her floor, a locator spell of sorts being done. She was missing something, and whatever was inside her was guiding her towards it. “Em wohs.” Tara was leaning over the map, focusing on the feeling bubbling inside of her. Blood dripped onto the map, an answer to a question she still didn’t understand. Bringing her hand up to her nose, she didn’t flinch, just took the location and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rosanna woke up, feeling like she didn't sleep at all. Her back aching something fierce, her knees throbbing like she has been sitting on them for hours. But nope! She just slept! She slept!

September into October 1st. The fog seeping into the cracks of her windowpane, like the rest of campus. Tickling her nose, and blanketing her as she 'slept'. Same old song and dance. But hopefully she got cool tree powers again, or a crown made of buttercream frosting. Maybe it would even let her fly this year! That would be cool.

She arose from bed, a bunch of snaps and crackles harmonizing as she moved. She rolled her eyes at the sound, getting to her feet. It felt almost as if she couldn't move, her back so knotted as she stood, hunching her over. She winded grabbing it, and hobbled forward. Each step feeling like molasses. Like she was walking through taffy, raising her legs a task.

Eventually she makes her way to the mirror, ready for whatever. As her eyes catch the reflection, she screams! It comes out huskier than use normal pixie-like tone, more gravely.

There before her was an elderly face. Bags held under her old gaze, wrinkles drooped from her cheeks and neck. Her hands go to touch her expression now, liver spots painting the backs of her paper-like knuckles. "Oh, oh no!" She shakes her head and moves from the mirror in a pace. "I've got to stay calm!" She declares, them moves back to the mirror to make sure. She winces. It was true and sure. The fog was NOT nice at all this year.

With a sigh she moves and gets herself ready. Throwing a long sleeve dress over her, simple slip on brown shoes (bending was hard, she couldn't tie anything from this state and at an angle). "I need air!" She declares, to no one in particular.

It had been a long month, the fog overstaying its welcome, especially for Arin. Stuck in a body of a different name, of her name. He missed his friends who he hadn't been around or couldn't speak openly to as himself. He couldn't not think about her, he couldn't get away from her. In a weird way more than ever, he couldn't get away from himself, even if he'd only seen his own body maybe twice all month. He lays down in her bed again another night and at least relishes in the warmth of a big bed that smells like her.