ALEX RUSSO.

my how people could be so crazy about these things, but she didn't want to say that out loud, especially in a time like this, then again, alex had a horrible way of being too blunt even in non-serious times.

The  rules  had  seemed  simple  enough:  grab  some  straw,  rummage  through  the  donated  bins  of  clothes,  and  stuff  together  a  cheerful-looking  scarecrow.  Most  participants  were  happily  tying  flannels  and  plopping  old  hats  on  crooked  heads.  And  then  there  was  Donatello Hamato.

Kneeling  in  the  straw  pile  with  a  focused  scowl,  Donnie  had  sketched  what  looked  suspiciously  like  blueprints  for  his  scarecrow  on  the  back  of  a  festival  flyer.  He  muttered  under  his  breath,  a  pencil  jammed  behind  one  ear  and  his  goggles  firmly  in  place.  “Scarecrow  2.0 ! Enhanced  durability,  improved  posture,  and  possibly…  low-level  AI  for  authentic  crow  deterrence.”

He  packed  straw  with  military  precision,  then  paused,  eyeing  a  pile  of  discarded  wires.  Within  minutes,  he  had  rerouted  them  into  the  scarecrow’s  “spine,”  rigging  it  to  a  salvaged  battery  pack  from  his  pocket.  "I  don't  wanna  hear  that  I'm  taking  it  too  far."  Donnie  looked  up,  dead  serious.  “A  scarecrow’s  purpose  is  to  scare.  If  it  can’t  strike  terror  into  the  heart  of  an  average  crow,  what’s  the  point?”

Alex was not creative at all, but with him? She didn't feel like she had to be, because he was doing the brunt of the work it seemed like, and she was feeling like she was doing just enough, which was nice, honestly. She sighed happily and clasped her hands together.

Donnie  glanced  up  from  the  bundle  of  wires  in  his  lap,  one  brow  arched  in  playful  suspicion.  “Wow.  You’re  not  telling  me  to  stop.  I  was  sure  you  were  going  to  call  me  mad  scientist  or  something  by  now.”

“I  mean,  yeah…  I’m  not  great  at  the  whole  ‘bouncing  ideas  off  people’  thing,  but…  if  you’ve  got  thoughts,  I’m  not  gonna  vaporize  you  for  having  them.”

A smirk played on her lips, mostly, because she knew that trying to convince anyone that she was a leader would be silly. Alex Russo had been through enough to know that it was by actions people noticed others.

The  rules  had  seemed  simple  enough:  grab  some  straw,  rummage  through  the  donated  bins  of  clothes,  and  stuff  together  a  cheerful-looking  scarecrow.  Most  participants  were  happily  tying  flannels  and  plopping  old  hats  on  crooked  heads.  And  then  there  was  Donatello Hamato.

Kneeling  in  the  straw  pile  with  a  focused  scowl,  Donnie  had  sketched  what  looked  suspiciously  like  blueprints  for  his  scarecrow  on  the  back  of  a  festival  flyer.  He  muttered  under  his  breath,  a  pencil  jammed  behind  one  ear  and  his  goggles  firmly  in  place.  “Scarecrow  2.0 ! Enhanced  durability,  improved  posture,  and  possibly…  low-level  AI  for  authentic  crow  deterrence.”

He  packed  straw  with  military  precision,  then  paused,  eyeing  a  pile  of  discarded  wires.  Within  minutes,  he  had  rerouted  them  into  the  scarecrow’s  “spine,”  rigging  it  to  a  salvaged  battery  pack  from  his  pocket.  "I  don't  wanna  hear  that  I'm  taking  it  too  far."  Donnie  looked  up,  dead  serious.  “A  scarecrow’s  purpose  is  to  scare.  If  it  can’t  strike  terror  into  the  heart  of  an  average  crow,  what’s  the  point?”

Alex was not creative at all, but with him? She didn't feel like she had to be, because he was doing the brunt of the work it seemed like, and she was feeling like she was doing just enough, which was nice, honestly. She sighed happily and clasped her hands together.

open enchanted harvest fair starter ft. the haunted hayride. (cap 0/5)

thomas slung himself onto the edge of the creaking wagon, the scent of hay and the distant tang of bonfire smoke wrapping around him as the horses started forward. the path ahead wound into a tunnel of shadows, branches arching overhead like skeletal fingers. somewhere in the dark, a laugh, high and almost human echoed, then vanished as quickly as it came. thomas adjusted his grip on the wagon’s wooden rail, muttering to the other, “guess we should’ve stayed by the cider stand.” the lanterns dangling from the wagon’s sides flickered as if in agreement, casting long, shivering shapes that danced across the carved pumpkins lining the road.

catching up with alex made some of the worry dissipate from her, passing off the gold bracelet back to its rightful owner. it wasn't as if it was unlikely they would organically cross paths on their own in the next few days, as truthfully they likely would, but alice did not trust her memory on the matter. she found herself overwhelmed with thoughts lately, making it all the easier to let things slip through the cracks.

*  //   - Logan  slowed  his  pace  as  soon  as  he  noticed  the  way  she  tensed  at  the  sound  of  footsteps.  He  raised  his  hands  a  little,  palms  open,  careful  not  to  spook  her  further. “Hey,  don’t  panic.  I’m  not  following  you.”  His  voice  was  calm,  steady,  carrying  over  the  rain  without  sharpness.  “Just  heading  the  same  way.”

He  kept  a  respectful  distance,  letting  the  dim  streetlight  show  his  face.  A  stranger,  yes,  but  not  a  threat.  Not  unless  she  wanted  one. “You  looked  like  you  were  about  ready  to  fight  the  shadows,  though,”  he  added,  a  wry  edge  sneaking  into  his  tone.  “Smart.  In  Elias,  shadows  are  known  to  swing  first.”

Thinking on her feet, Alex turned to him and nodded. "I'm Alex, and fighting shadows is something I've learned...to do." She said, her hues on him. "What's your name?" She asked him, pursing her lips. She didn't want to get too personal, but she was trying to figure out if she was going to let him walk with her.

for a moment, agnes glanced back. the lady was still following them. "either she got mad that we asked too much questions or she got mad that we tagged her windows."

agnes guided the other to turn around a corner and into a packed street where the night market was happening. expertly, she slipped through the crowd while keeping her arms linked around the other's arm. once more, agnes looked back. there was no longer signs of the lady, she must've lost them.

my how people could be so crazy about these things, but she didn't want to say that out loud, especially in a time like this, then again, alex had a horrible way of being too blunt even in non-serious times.

———  ❛  yes  !  please  ?  ❜  luz  was  could  feel  the  panic  welling  up  in  her  chest.  it  squeeze  and  refused  to  let  go.  so  much  for  practice  makes  perfect!  practice  did  not  make  perfect.  practice  turned  innocent  trees  into  dust  because  she  couldn't  control  a  simple  sigil.  it  was  hard  not  to  spiral  in  that  moment.  luz  was  doing  everything  she  could  not  to  rethink  every  life  choice  that  led  her  to  this  moment.

♡ ︎→ Sometimes, when the evening was just beginning and the customers had not quite arrived yet, Sadie found herself mesmerized by the bar top. It was glossy, a deep mahogany, reflected her face back at her when she looked into it and wiped it down. Interspersed with cracks and stains and marks that told a story. The regular who cracked a glass on the corner, the fight that caused the gouge in the right hand side, the scratches from years of glasses being moved back and forth. Everything brought a memory, told a story, and soon she knew she would no longer remember them. When her magic finished taking her childhood, it would continue to take, and corrupt, until there was nothing left.

She sighed, brought the rag up to the countertop and rubbed away the thought along with the stains. It was going to be a long night, Sadie knew, and hoped it would be busy as well. Her best evenings were full of people drinking and laughter, listening for drunken whispers to sell to Orion, sharing little smiles with regulars and strangers alike. Thankfully, the bar was starting to fill up so she hoped beyond hope that this would be a lively evening and her thoughts could be kept at bay.

As someone approached the bar, she crouched down below it to retrieve a handful of glasses and the container of limes to restock. "What can I get you?" She asked as she stood back up, attention down on the container as she filled the lime sections.

Then again, wasn't it normal that people waited on their customers? Obviously. However, Alex Russo had forgotten normalcy, she had forgotten really anything, and she knew that only made sense with the life that she lived now.

it was the kind of rain that just bordered on the fantasy of walking through the rain and letting it refresh one's mind, or sent someone running inside because it wasn't worth having your clothes get wet. alice wasn't quite sure which camp she stepped in. but, she felt strongly about trying to do the right thing, which was enough drive to stay out in it. she'd found a stray gold bracelet on the ground a block back and had been trying to catch up with the only figure she'd seen out and about, hoping that she might return it to the right person.

alex russo walked through the rain as and let the frustration come across her face as if it could be cured. she was used to having everything go her way, she was used to having everything be fixed in a brief moment. however, the brunette knew that not everything was in her reach anymore. hurrying home, she took step after step walking down the street in the dim street lights, she heard footsteps behind her but she didn't even turn her around.

he turned with a start, wet hair plastered to his face by the rain. piercing, wary eyes swept over the girl, then flicked instinctively to the empty street behind her.

without thinking, his hand twitched outward, the familiar pull of his keyblade sparking at his fingertips. he didn’t summon it, not yet, but the way she’d been moving, head down, steps too quick, as if chased, set every nerve in him on edge.

“you should watch where you’re going,” he said, voice low, clipped. his gaze didn’t stay on her for long, scanning instead the shadows that stretched like traps along the slick pavement. after a beat, his tone softened just slightly. “are you hurt?”

he studied her once more, uncertainty threading his guarded expression. in this city, strangers didn’t crash into you by chance.

———  it  was  often  said  that  practice  makes  perfect.  luz  knew  in  her  heart  that  the  statement  was  true  but  that  didn't  make  that  pill  easier  to  swallow.  she  wanted  to  be  great  at  everything  now.  there  was  no  shortcut  to  magic.  she  tried!  and  it  ended  miserably. currently  she  was  trying  to  get  the  hand  of  her  fire  glyphs.  each  time  she  mastered  a  new  one  she  felt  a  sense  of  pride  bloom  in  her  chest.  she  was  on  her  way  to  being  a  real  witch!  not  that  ...  she  wasn't  one  already  but  she  was  super  close  to  being  one  regardless!  all  was  going  well  until  the  fire  ball  she  conjured  started  floating  away.  ❛ no  !  ❜  she  yelped.  ❛  no,  no,  no  come  back  !  ❜  she  chased  after  the  floating  orb  but  it  was  too  late.  A  nearby  tree  had  unfortunately  been  in  the  ball's  path  and  had  now  caught  on  fire.  ❛  i  can  fix  this  !  ❜  she  declared  aloud  only  to  turn  around  and  see  she  wasn't  exactly  alone.  ❛  actually  ..  can  you  help  me  fix  this  ..  please  ?  ❜

bottom line, agnes was used to this. she was used to walking with hurried steps—with adrenaline coursing through her veins—until she reached somewhere crowded. she'd mastered the technique of walking fast without making it looked like she was running (thank you kristofferson for the lessons too).

agnes almost caught up with the woman in front of her. with a quick turn of the head, agnes saw that the angry shopkeeper was no longer hot on agnes' trail. but just in case...