[𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨: INCOMPLETE. ongoing, slow updates + being focused on !]
𝐓𝐏𝐊 ━━ "RAINING GHOSTS WILL SOON BE CAMELOT'S CLIMATE AS THE WAR RAGES ON..."
IN WHICH ... two apprentices from polarizing sides find solace with one another as conflict sta...
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𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗼𝘀.
ॱ० ❛♛ ॱॱ ✦ॱ ॰ॱ ໌ ॑ ०ॱ໋ ✸ ✦࡞ ॱ❜ ✶०ॱ ✩♚໋ॱ
RIS ONLY HALF-LISTENED to the gossip her co-workers had to share as they were cleaning up and closing up shop. The other half was her listening to whatever rock was being streamed and shuffled as she organized the shelves of material, only one earbud being worn just in case.
Moxie had a busy day, of course, filled with orders and irritating customers. At least Ris had the bookstore to find solace in for the nights given in Arcadia Oaks.
"Man, you should've seen his face after Alma said so. He looked like he was on the verge of tears."
"Gosh, I didn't think it would actually work."
"I'll see you guys tomorrow." Ris pulled her black windbreaker over her dress and stowed away her earbuds and phone after finishing up.
After exchanging goodbyes, she exited the shop to find the dark evening and dimly lit streets with not much activity, the girl beginning her walk home for the night, taking a shortcut through one of the alleyways making it faster to cross the streets. Arcadia Oaks was ordinary and quaint, seemingly, though a specific few would know of the otherworldly activity that would be found around here. Such as, magical creatures. Expected apocalypse. Ancient spellbooks. It was the place to be at the moment. Ris was a spellcaster, afterall.
Midway to the path back, the specter sensed the slightest change in the air just around the corner, where she could see Benoit's at the end of the street. Movement of some kind. Hostility grew behind her and she knew it. Someone, some other magical being, was in the darker corners of the alley, heading closer and closer—
She spun around and grabbed whoever was behind her, forcing them into a guillotine chokehold.
"Let me go, princess!"
Soon enough, Ris recognized the brunette, soon letting go of their poor head, hands up, wincing as she watched her companion prop himself up with hands on his knees, catching a breath or two before he cursed again.
"Oh, you maniac. I swear to the gods-" Natrix stood back up, with a scowl, adjusting the golden chain hung around his neck and flattening the collar under their black sweater. Natrix was always a waspish witch, full of acidic remarks, and they would not hesitate to even curse the poor woman out if it meant the ruination of his composure.
