October 2018 Test Drive Meme

[sodder]

OCTOBER 2018 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to October’s Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: HALLOWEEN HORROR.

All Test Drive Memes contain at least one clue to the Deerington's upcoming in-game events for the month! Keep your eyes peeled! But...not literally.

Characters may die during TDMs, but you do not need to count it towards a game-canonical death unless you want to. Consider it a freebie. All TDMs can be considered game canon as TDMs introduce minor aspects about the world of Deerington that can be revisited by characters later on in the game. You may also use TDMs for your application writing sample as well as AC.

CW: Wet and rotting corpses/zombies, ghosts, violence, blood, knives, possessed dolls, options for underage drinking

Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

IT’S JUST A BUNCH OF HOCUS POCUS

It’s not Halloween if you don’t make a trip to a cheesy haunted house. At least, that’s what everyone in Deerington likes to say. The old Victorian stands at the top of a hill, rickety and in desperate need of a new paint job. The yard and porch have been decorated with what you’d expect for your typical haunted house; fake spider webs spread across the overhang, painted foam grave markers with cheesy names like “Here lies Richard Cranium” and “BEWARE!!” in creepy letter etchings. You can see the blinking of variously timed strobe lights in some windows and the shadow of what you’re pretty sure is a full-sized doll standing in the window, meant to look like someone staring out at you. The rocking chair on the porch near the door has a skeleton with a bowl of candy in his lap, and a sign is propped up against the wall next to him.

“ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK. TOUCH NOTHING AND NOTHING WILL TOUCH YOU!”

Well that sounds promising.

The first few rooms you enter are appropriately cheesy. There’s the silly burst of air that you hear just before a plastic figuring pops out of a poorly constructed coffin, the clicking sound of the machinery inside echoing in the room when it starts to pull back and the lid closes once again. There’s fog machines trying to give the appropriately spooky air, stuffed sheets shaped to look like dead bodies wrapped up laying in piles on the floor with fake blood staining the white fabric, black lighting to show off words scribbled on doors like “TURN BACK NOW” and “SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES.” Nothing you haven’t seen before. It might be even worse than things you’ve seen before, over the top cheesy, boring enough to give a yawn. Each door seems to open on its own so you don’t even have to touch the handles.

As you make your way through the next automatic door, the room you walk into is different than those before it. It’s a regular children’s room. A bed against the wall near the window, a dresser in the corner, a small desk with a chair. Nothing out of the ordinary, save for the lights not being on, and the strange flickering light in the closet. You step towards it, figuring you’re in for another jump scare, but the door doesn’t open. Whether you’re naturally the curious sort or not, something in the back of your mind makes you want to open the door and see what’s on the inside.

If you fight it and walk towards the next automatic door, you’ll find you’ve walked out to the backyard of the house, those same foam decorations and a dozen or more jack o’ lanterns lighting your way on a path back to the town.

If you choose to pull the door open, however, it’ll take you into yet another room, with a flickering television playing nothing but static. Once you step past the doors of the closet, they slam shut behind you and whoever else dared to enter. The doors won’t lock no matter what you do, no matter how strong the person shaking the handles or pushing against the wood may be. You realize you broke the one rule; you’ve touched something. But can things now really touch you?

The only light source in the whole room is that television and it’s not lighting up much inside the room around it. If you squint when the TV is at its brightest setting, you can just make out another door. Your exit, you hope. But as you make your way towards the door, the flickering suddenly stops, the TV steadily bright, a low humming noise coming from the screen, and suddenly the door seems several more feet away from you than it was a second ago. Before you can reach the door, there’s the sound of trickling water from behind you. If you choose to look back, you’ll see something coming out from the screen - a girl with soaked clothing and pale, rotted skin. She emerges fully from the glass and starts to move towards you. You know it’s best to start running for that door. If you stay and try to fight, you’ll find that no regular weapons work on her, though special weapons and powers that are effective against spirits will definitely do the trick. For those who don’t have any of these at their disposal, however, there is one more hope besides just trying to run; two old school VHS tape sit on the table near by, a fancy machine between them that is meant to copy one to the other. Work as a team and have one distract her while the other records, and you’ll find that she disappears as quickly as she flickered on the screen and the TV will return to static.

Regardless of what you choose before carrying on, the next room you come to as the door slams and locks behind you is entirely different. Brightly lit and filled with what seems like hundreds of porcelain dolls, it’s almost hard to tell where there could possibly be another exit hidden among the massive shelves. You can start to wind your way through them, but before long, you start to hear the sound of running feet, the jingling of bells, the swish of satin, and most eerily the sounds of children giggling - but there’s nothing that sounds save about them. Some of the dolls you saw on the last shelf seem like they’ve moved and are sitting in the corner or laying in a new position on a new shelf. Sometimes you swear you can see their heads turn to watch you pass, but it has to be a trick of the light, doesn’t it?

That is until one of those dolls runs by you, brandishing something shiny in their hands - something sharp. A knife, you realize too late, as it tries to slice at your legs and knock you down. You can kick them away and they’ll go flying, and when the porcelain smashes, the doll will scream in agony. You notice there’s blood pouring from the hole that formed, spreading quickly across the ground. The dolls are easy to kill, but are they really just dolls? You can take your time to contemplate that later, as now you have to fight your way through the violent and armed toys to reach the door at the end of the maze of shelves. Hopefully you can get out without too many severe injuries.

When (or if) you do manage to get to the next room, you seem to have a chance to take a breath and tend to any wounds. It’s decorated like the room of a small cottage, a large pot over the fireplace that isn’t lit, and several jars full of (possibly rotting) food and herbs on the shelves. You see a book on the stand in the center, latched shut and covered in dust. You can open it, if you want, but remember the warning you ignored that got you in trouble in the first place. It’s probably better to carry on to the next room.

If you do choose to open the book, though, there will be eerily glowing text lining the pages, the light will seem to poor out and fill the room, and you’ll be transported back out in front of the house.

Those who continued through the door will find themselves out in the backyard. Just like for those who got out sooner, there are dozens of jack o lanterns, but the graves don’t look like they’re made of foam this time. They’re real stone, engraved with real names and real dates this time. And the ground underneath them seems to be moving, like someone’s trying to crawl out of there. Better not to wait around. Soon as you start to move down the path, you’ll start to hear the sounds of groans as the undead start to crawl from their own graves, pulling themselves up through the dirt, and determined to get to the only food source they see - you. The zombies seem like they’re never ending, coming from every inch of the yard, but at least they’re just like normal zombies - completely incapable of being killed unless you cut off the head. There are shovels lying next to a few graves if you need a quick weapon, but there’s also still always the option to run as fast as you can up the stone path to the front of the house and back towards the street.

When you do finally manage to get back to the front, there’s a momentary blinding flash of light, disorienting anyone near it for a few seconds. When it finally fades, any leftover zombies chasing you have disappeared and the house looks like the same, cheesy haunted house you walked up to in the first place. If for some reason you decide to go and explore the backyard again, the grass will be back to normal, and the graves will all be replaced by cheaply painted foam once more.

Was that all in your head? Who knows. But maybe it’s best to just get out of here.

WE DID THE MASH

Somehow the street lamps have all been converted to oil based flames, the Authority are in witch hats, and every where you go there is music that seems to be playing from faintly glowing bats hanging upside down from telephone wires. The bats will open their mouths in succession, seeming somehow capable of producing the sounds of instruments and singers alike of popular Halloween songs.

Yards are decorated as thoroughly as the front of stores. Maybe you haven't bothered to decorate, but your neighbor sure has! Fake gravestones are propped up in yards, giant fake spiders in trees, and no matter where you walk, the ground seems covered in thick, rolling fog from machines. Or at least you hope it's coming from machines. Hell, you can't even find it in yourself to be too worried! Everyone around you is having way too good of a time! And God, there is food everywhere! Might as well grab a bite while you're out, huh?

It's tempting to break loose and dance. Jack-O-Lanterns absolutely crowd the streets. There's more than you can even begin to count, and all of them are lit all throughout the night. Even if you accidentally trip over some, they don't seem to catch fire to anything or go out! Some neighbors have camp fires set up with marshmallows to roast, while others have...are those broomsticks? Well that's kinda cool, you guess. Correction: it's really cool since you can actually pick one up and take it for a fly! Make sure to attach a little lamp to the front though because God knows it's dangerous flying at night. The brooms only work if you wear the appropriately provided hats, of course, but you can keep both the broom and hat indefinitely and have a readily available means of flight in Deerington after! Be forewarned though: the brooms are as easily broken as regular brooms and the hats easily blown away in the wind.

TRICK OR TREATS

At any of the events, especially the nighttime partying, you can find any number of the following treats (and their potential side effects):

Donuts (Will make you deliriously happy. Everything is amazing to you. May cause a lot of affection. A lot of affection.)
Candy Apples (You will eagerly tell someone everything you like about them. Talk about a sweet tooth.)
Candy Corn (Will make you extremely sad. Like god, you'll be wondering why you hate yourself so much.)
Pumpkin Spice Lattes (Causes suspicious amounts of obedience and a desire to do what you're told.)
Hot Chocolate (Can provide some minor healing. Best stuff to drink with a common cold!)
Hot or Cold Apple Cider (Nothing will happen. It's just really good.)
Alcoholic Cider (This isn't your grandma's apple cider. This stuff will knock you on your ass. Anyone who drinks this will get wasted regardless of whether or not they are immune to alcohol or even ingest regular food. It only takes one or two before you start to get tipsy, but any more than that and you'll be well on your way to drunk. Please drink responsibly. We don't need any FUIs.)

Character Arrival

You can read how all characters arrive in Deerington here.

There is not a collective "all these characters showed up at the exact same moment" occurrence in Deerington. Since characters fall asleep, die, or pass out at various times throughout all their worlds, it wouldn't make too much sense if they arrived in game all at the exact same time. There should be some discrepancy between character arrival, whether by a couple minutes, hours, or even days up to a week.

The players are entirely in control of how/when they want to play their characters arriving in Deerington. For TDMs, you can play it like your character has just arrived and that can be maintained as your game canon, or you can wait until game events for that moment. Or you don't need to acknowledge it at all. The flexibility for character allows a bit more of an organic feel to the character arrival situation, so please play it to whatever feels right for you.

If you are interested in having an "arrival" introduction for one of your TDM prompts, you are more than welcome to explore that option.

Comments

QUESTIONS

[sodder]

[flagrates]

I'm thinking I already know the answer to this (they burn) but: what happens if any of the monsters in the haunted house get set on fire?

Mikan Tsumiki | Super Danganronpa 2 | spoilers for the game possible

[discerp]

[Arrival]

[It's a little sad that her first thought on waking up is more along the lines of 'oh no, not again.' There's a sense of dread and resignation and she looks at her hands and her arms and legs and doesn't see anything to indicate she's... Different, for lack of a better term. She carefully replaces the bandages that go all around her right leg and her left arm. Those scars remain, but there's nothing new to them.

Her body looks and feels healthy. She checks herself over a dozen times until she's satisfied enough to start exploring the home itself. Maybe you're a surprise roommate she runs into?

If not, she can be found meekly wandering the streets, hands clutched together uncertainly. Maybe you feel the stare of eyes upon you and try to locate the source, which would be the young nurse staring intently. She looks like she desperately wants to ask something, making motions to reach out or call out for someone, but the words stick in her throat. Any time a townsperson or anyone glances at her though, she immediately shrinks back and looks terrified, on the brink of tears.

The courage to speak up is clearly not with this one...]

[Hocus Pocus A]

[Mikan looks intrigued by the haunted house stuff, at least, twisting her fingers around anxiously even as she watches.]

I-I've always liked horror movies... They're nice. And there’s so much blood, which is... also nice. A-And the really mean characters always die first... Everyone’s scared, panicking, and trying to escape... There are so many fun things to watch in horror movies.

[She looks rather... cheerful as she says all that, like she's recalling a fond memory.] I- I sort of want to see, but I don't want to go in by myself... [She then suddenly straightens up, eyes wide as she realizes she was talking out loud and immediately looks towards the nearest person, guilty and panicked] I-I'm sorry for speaking without permission!

[Hocus Pocus B]

[WELL THIS IS SOME BULLSHIT. She'd definitely gone through the door and here they are now in the third room to check over wounds. Mikan would have been surprisingly adept at fending off the dolls, not too perturbed by the blood or anything like that. She's just not thinking about it.

It's easier that way.

But anyway, it's time to take advantage of this breather and really shine. She produces a roll of bandages from her nurse's apron and looks earnestly to her companion.]

H-here, come sit down! I can treat your injuries! Where I'm from, I'm known as the Ultimate Nurse, so... So you're in good hands, I promise! Please let me tend to your wounds!

Hocus Pocus A

[justbeingknife]

Tell you the truth, I'm kind of a fan, t --

[ Oh. Okay, well, you know. Plenty of weirdos in Kamurocho, and a girl that liked horror movies probably wasn't all that weird in the scheme of things. Majima looked a little taken aback by the apology, but he could roll with it it was fine. ]

Hey, it's cool. You're just strikin' up conversation, right? If you wanna go in, I'll come with.

jack "would you kindly" wynand | bioshock | cw: body horror

[wynand]

hocus pocus ; fourth room

Son, you're special.

You were born to do great things.

The words are his prayer, cobwebs gumming the works of his mind. Commit them to memory. Compress them into the leaf-mulch underneath his feet. Burn them into his veins, rich and bright as bluebell slurries of EVE.

Son, thinks Jack, in words that were his own but were thought by another man entirely, a man who ran a thumb along the ridge of a picture of a family he knew without question he had, a million years and an entire world away - you're special.

He points at one of the snarled, malformed, splicer-esque corpses oozing its way out from the fresh-turned earth, and snaps his fingers. A spark of blue leaps from his fingertips to the dead flesh, and sets it alight. It might not, after all, have nerves to be deadened with the arcing shock of Electro Bolt, and unleashing a swarm of insects on something that doesn't look particularly alive seems like a poor plan. These things might not be splicers, but he can deal with them just as easily as if they were. He thinks.

Oh, he opened the door, all right. He opened the door and touched something he shouldn't have, because in the underwater chambers of a sinking city, you take what you can damn well get. You tear apart rooms that do not belong to you, and you crack safes that hold someone else's possessions, and you listen to the static twitch of words that were never meant for your ears.

The only weapon still in his possession is his wrench. A wrench that he has come, inevitably, to think of as his. One of the zombies shuffles close. The lower half of its jaw is missing, gaping its maw wide with a faint moan. Something is buzzing in its stretched-open, empty eye-socket, some moth or fly or insect feeding freely on its deadness.

You were born to do great things.

Jack takes its head off with a well-timed swing of his wrench. The force of the impact is enough to jar it loose. He doesn't even watch the rattail column of spine as it goes down like a streamer, or the headless body that drops beneath the dead weight of no longer having a head. Several more take its place. Heat waves shimmer up off the volcanic boils bubbling like heated pus down the center of Jack's left hand, running across the ridge of his wrist and disappearing beneath the sleeve of his cable-knit sweater, still heavy with blood and brine. He opens his palm, and sets another one of them on fire.

For some reason, it hasn't occurred to him that he should run.

Why could he should he, when there's still something he needs to fight?

we did the mash ; pumpkin spice latte

[Chary that he might be, adaptable, clever in combat, direct and unflinching in resolve, Jack Wynand is a great many things. He lacks a great many things on top of it, one of those being impulse control. He sees something edible, or drinkable, and he simply downs it in one swift motion, because one never knows, in a decaying underwater city, when they might next get the chance to rest or eat. Better to take advantage when you can, right? And just because he's not being set upon right this minute doesn't mean that he's never going to be, right?]

[The delectability of a pumpkin spice latte is wasted on this stupid boy. Down the hatch it goes, pretty much immediately, because he's never not entered a situation and anticipated that it would be anything but one centered on combat.]

[And he...he...]

[...huh.]

[Well, he doesn't feel that different, actually. He feels exactly the same as before. Pumpkin spice lattes are great, and he doesn't perceive any adverse effects whatsoever! Nor will he, once it actually wears off.]

[Jack Wynand is a great many things. Obedient to a fault, as it happens, is one of them.]

[Ask him to do something! Go ahead. He'll be happy to comply! He's just standing in the middle of the party scene, looking horribly out of place with his startling breadth and height, blinking as he processes the massive array of lights and stimuli that are nothing like the more familiar walkways of Rapture.]

[Familiar. Now that's a funny word for it.]

wildcard ; hit me UP

[ i'm down to do literally any of the prompts! these are just the two starters i had time to write up. i will match prose or brackets! ]

pumpkin spiced latte!

[argenti]

Hey, buddy!

[ Prompto calls over, somewhat nervously. to Jack as he waves one hand at him. The other hand is holding his camera. ]

Hey, hi- i’m actually trying to take some photos of the party, you mind if I take one of you? Or, if you don’t want one, if you wouldn’t mind moving over a bit so I could get those pumpkins behind you in it... [ The guy looked a little disoriented, actually; probably not the best photo subject at this exact moment, but Prompto really wanted some photos with the jack o’ lanterns in them. They were just bound to do funky things to the lighting. ]

steve rogers | mcu

[1943]

( hocus pocus. )

[ Touch nothing, the sign had said, but Steve isn't past the first room before his fingers start itching to. The place'd be a marvel for anyone, but seeing it through an artist's eyes is definitely something else. The machines pumping out fog, the fake monsters popping out from behind corners, the glowing writing (how the hell did they manage that) — all of it wouldn't be out of place on a film set. Or some kind of fair, anyway; that's what this whole thing feels like, rickety old haunted house though it might be. A carnival. Even the doors are opening on their own. ]

Holy cow.

[ In the next room, a lot plainer than the last, the curiosity Steve's feeling increases to a sharp intrigue when the closet door doesn't open on its own. Something in him whispers to open it himself, and Steve frowns. The suddenness of the urge is what gives him pause — that, and the look of the room itself. Too ordinary, too plain, especially considering what he'd just walked through beforehand. Too ... unsuspecting. And nothing will touch you, he remembers, taking his hand away from the handle just before his fingers make contact.

Ain't taking any wooden nickels here, he thinks, vaguely smug as he walks out into the backyard, and then stops in his tracks when he catches sight of the gravestones. The ... very clearly not-fake gravestones, this time around, and the shifting dirt, and the — oh, Christ. He feels the blood drain from his face at the sight of the arm that shoots up out of the dirt, and the thing that clambers out after it.

No longer even remotely smug, or curious for that matter, Steve lunges for one of the nearby shovels, hefting it up and holding it in both hands like a baseball bat. Hey, if he's going down, he's going down swinging. ]


( the mash. )

[ Okay, fine. Steve has two left feet, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like music — doesn't mean he's never thought about dancing. And it sure as hell doesn't mean those same left feet won't be tapping to the beat, strange as it is, while he walks down the brightly lit street. If this is all just a, a hallucination of some sort, if he's really asleep somewhere back in Brooklyn, then it couldn't hurt to indulge. Right? Just a little. Just ...

Listen, it's free food. And drink. And maybe Steve might've had a donut, and some hot chocolate, and a little bit of the hooch, and is now tipsily wandering over to take a closer look at those funny-looking hats, bumping into some folks along the way. He doesn't mean to, promise. ]


( byoa. )

[ ooc: bring your own adventure!! feel free to do any of the options, incl. the tv and doll rooms in hocus pocus — maybe steve did take that wooden nickel after all. ]

hocus pocus

[therapissed]

[The haunted house itself isn't so bad, but coming outside and seeing some kid about to go head-to-head with the rising undead isn't exactly good. Add to that that multiple graves are opening up, soon making a squadron of zombies, and Bruce can't hesitate, green filling his vision and his body expanding with a quiet growl slipping past his grit teeth.

The Hulk stalks forward and grabs Steve around the waist, surprisingly gentle in picking up the small figure and putting him aside with a grunted:]

Stay.

dale cooper (twin peaks)

[tibet]

the most fun you'll ever have being scared ► hocus pocus

option a

[Coming from someone who's spent an undefinable amount of time in a dimension where the rules of reality as he knows it don't apply, this feels surreal, and not for the reasons the homeowners in charge of this may have intended. In another time (1989) in another place (a little town in Washington State, so far away from where this one supposedly claims to be) Cooper would be grappling with some very pleasantly conflicting emotions. Having to apologize for being utterly charmed over something he should find scary could very likely be taken as an insult, he thinks, but at least it's the kind of trouble he could enjoy sorting through.

It's different now. Time has started moving again in the way he knows, and the shadows around him are calculated and artificial instead of living and breathing, but the shift is still jarring enough to make part of him — a very big part, whether he wants to admit it or not — wonder if any of this is really happening; if this is a dream of a dream and he hasn't left the Lodge at all. It wouldn't surprise him. Nothing would by this point.

So it's with a different set of conflicting emotions he finds himself juggling as he makes his way through the house. He takes in everything with a frown that's threatening to mutate into a grimace, staring at the fake corpse-shaped bundles with the blandly confused look of someone who's been served a cake made entirely of baloney and mayonnaise — what am I supposed to do with this, sir and-or ma'am? At least his reactions might be entertaining for whoever has managed to get themselves stuck with him, especially when he comes to one of the doors with its "ominous" graffiti: SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES.

This time, all Cooper can do is stare; first in suspicion and then, slowly, in genuine surprise.]

Ray Bradbury. [You can hear the wonder in his voice. When he turns to look back at the person he's with, he's smiling, faint and tiny but bright enough to be palpable all the same.] I loved that book.

option b

[He's not a movie-going person — not enough time, you see, and horror loses its luster when your job shows you far scarier things than undead killers and ghosts — but that doesn't mean Cooper doesn't know what a zombie is. What he's seeing now is, in fact, not a far cry from his first impressions back when he was a child standing on his tiptoes in front of the comic rack at the drug store, peering at covers of maggot-riddled corpses emerging from graveyards and swamps and everything in between, each detail of their decay rendered in lurid color. Like a child, he's takes in what he's seeing now in an almost hypnotic trance, alarm blurring his thoughts. It's such pure fantasy, no way could it exist, no way could it be happening.

But it does and it is. The tips of their fingers are spikes of pure bone, probably worsened from tearing their way out of the ground, and that's the detail that takes him back to reality again. JOLTING TALES OF TERROR! indeed.]

This would be a good time to start running. [He sounds remarkably calm, but he kind of has to be for the sake of whoever he's with, even if they look like they can take care of themselves. Comes with the territory of being in law enforcement.]

apple core, baltimore ► we did the mash

[For someone with a sweet tooth as ravenous as his with a bottomless pit of a stomach to match, a buffet spread like this is as close to heaven as Cooper can get. Hot chocolate? Check. Coffee? He can't say he's ever tried pumpkin spice before — a crime, we know — but that'll change soon enough, so check. Donuts? Add ten or so checks to those because that's how many it feels like he's had already. You can definitely tell, but for anyone who'd know him, it's not like the effects are much of a difference from how he normally is. It feels like an eternity since the last time his heart's felt this full, though, and maybe that isn't too much of a stretch. If that's the biggest complaint he can level from this experience so far, he'll consider himself the luckiest man on earth.

That's in addition to potentially being the most reckless one too. Just because the donuts are safe, delirious effects notwithstanding, that doesn't mean the rest of the food is the same. But a small bite of a cherry-red candy apple doesn't lead to any of the cliche effects he'd imagine like a deep fairy tale sleep or strangled sputtering as he starts to choke on his own vomit, so that's as good a sign as any that he's in the clear.

One bite turns into two turns into four, and pretty soon, the treat becomes just another accessory in his hand. He can be found standing with it in the middle of a deep conversation with...someone, should anyone pass by at just the right time.]

I think it looks lovely. It's quintessentially vintage and elegant — perfect for the season. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone else who can pull the look off quite as well as you can.

[He flashes a thumbs up down at the cat he's speaking to, who replies by meowing placidly.]

wildcard

[You know the drill. PM me if you have questions!]

a

[havealovelyday]

[something is lurking in the darkness. a real halloween horror. it approaches cooper with a wide grin, and unfeeling eyes.]

I shall bring you it along with a cheese peetzah, then.

river song ( doctor who )

[retrorsum]

( hocus pocus )

( river walks through the haunted house with an air of boredom. she doesn't frighten easily, not by anything like this. her childhood was spent in real fear, her "bedroom" the nightmare room, raised in terror and forgotten memories.

the first time that river reaches out to touch anything is at the closed door. she's never been able to resist one that is locked, pulling her sonic screwdriver from her jacket pocket to unlock it. it comes easily and she slips her screwdriver back in her pocket, starting to look around the room. there's nothing special there, nothing that particularly catches her attention. until the door slams shut, locking.

river moves back over to it, pulling on the handle, irritated when it doesn't budge. she reaches for the screwdriver again but for some reason, despite the fact that she'd just opened the door a minute ago, it won't unlock )

Come on.

( she keeps scanning, working with it but no matter which setting river uses it doesn't move. she huffs in frustration, hitting her palm against the door. it's a few seconds before she turns, looking around the room again. she keeps the screwdriver out, using it to scan around the room )

Right, what do we have?

( do the mash )

( halloween. trick or treating. it had been something that amy had spoken about when they'd been young but never something that river had ever gotten to do. she'd never really been a child to the silence but a weapon, why would they let her do anything like that?

as much as river hated being in this place, somewhere that felt very wrong, never mind what she'd already seen, she couldn't help but appreciate how it was decorated. they'd obviouly spent a lot of time and effort on this and in a normal situation it would be great.

she didn't trust it, though, keeping herself away from anything that was offered to her. did river think it was poisoned? no, but she also didn't want to get involved. all whilst she was walking she was studying and questioning -- looking for details, for an escape. anything out of the ordinary )

( wildcard )

( send something my way or pm to figure something out! )

mash.

[oddbod]

[Clara may not be anything out of the ordinary, but she's keeping herself far enough from the festivities to catch an eye. The stuttering flashlight in her hand as she rounds the corner of a dark yard seems proof enough that her intentions are similar to River's; she's not here to enjoy the party.]

Hello.

[She gives a polite wave to the approaching stranger. The flashlight's beam flashes through fog at her ankles, and it distracts her for a moment before- ]

Wait - River? River Song?

baby • baby driver

[tinnitused]

I ➣ ➣ ➣ HOCUS POCUS

[ it's a looming sort of haunted house, the one that baby remembers seeing in all those old movies he and joe had stayed up late to watch when he'd been younger. joe had always told him that there was nothing in those that were real, that could scare him but something about this makes the hair on baby's neck prickle.

and yet still he steps inside. at first, joe's right. everything is ridiculous and overblown and laughable.

but then, as baby pushes deeper into the house, things start to...change. his breath comes in short pants though outwardly his expression is blank, stoic.

it's only when he finds himself in the room with the porcelain dolls that he shows real fear. and then he runs. he runs and runs, he runs like the cops are on his tail, runs like he can't possibly do anything else.

he spills onto the front yard after what seems like hours though he knows was only mere minutes. he lays there on the grass, breathing hard and looking up at the sky, just able to see the top of the pointed roof of the house.

next to him, a foam grave claims 'rip ted n buried.' baby just stares at it and then stands up.

okay. ]

II ➣ ➣ ➣ TRICK OR TREAT

[ someone hands baby a donut and while he's never really had that much of a sweet tooth is he hungry. so he nods his thanks and walks along, only wishing he had some music. there's a tune in his head and he hums along, biting the donut as he does.

just like that, the tune changes to something peppy, something that puts a spring in his step and a smile on his face. he hums louder, even singing a few bars every now and then.

as people pass him, he smiles, nodding and even saying hello to them. he even stops someone he doesn't know and hugs them. hugs them tight. it's a great day. he feels amazing. ]

III ➣ ➣ ➣ WILDCARD

[ feel free to choose your own adventure! ]

trick or treat.

[sanzensekai]

( Oh.

All right.

Zoro's used to this kind of thing from his captain, but from a stranger it makes him feel heated, angry. He tears away from him quickly, scowling. )

You're the third person to hug me today, is there something in the fucking water?

roronoa zoro | one piece

[sanzensekai]

hocus pocus. backyard.

( Ok, so ... This place is just Thriller Bark. Basically. Got it.

Zoro is typically unshakable, anyway, and at the back of the place he just has to grin.

He ties his bandana up where it should be on his head, and brandishes Wado Ichimonji. It'd be nice to have all three swords, but one will get the job done. )

Let's do this.

monster mash.

( Man, his crew would love all this. Especially the brooms, one of which he has to take. And the hat, of course.

And why not indulge in it all, himself? With the booze, he just has to. He all but chugs the boozy cider, finding the taste much to his liking. He normally drinks sake, but it's nice to try something else sometimes ...

Yet when he backs away from the table with all the food, the drunk doesn't creep up on him like normal; no, this time, it hits him like a truck. To get his bearings about himself, Zoro plants his feet wide and sucks in a deep breath. But that only lasts a minute or so, until he notices the broom he's holding.

Oh hell yeah. Time to fly.

He mounts it, looking over to the nearest resident; he hovers. )

Does this hat look good on me?

( He gestures vaguely. )

Like, really. Be honest.

wildcard.

( put zoro and your muse where you like! seriously, i can roll with anything. )

Hocus Pocus; cw: violence, blood

[justbeingknife]

Ya serious? Real zombies?

[ Hell, Majima figured this was pretty much a once-in-a-lifetime event, and if that was the way things were going, they might as well get this show on the road.

The violet blade of his dagger cast a sort of otherworldly light on his surroundings as he activated his weapon. They weren't particularly fast (or bright), which meant that when his first assailant shambled its way into reach, it was easy to simply sever its head from its body, accompanied by the faint odor of burning hair. ]

Cable | XCU

[nothinicantkill]

[Hocus Pocus]

[Cable wonders if Deadpool has rubbed off on him somehow. What possessed him to come to a haunted house, and one so cheesy at that. Perhaps it was because he'd never been to one, hadn't even heard of such a thing until this night. Halloween was still celebrated when he was from, but it was more of a familial affair. Cheesy horror movies, a portion of candy, if your family was lucky enough to have the funds, and scary campfire tales told under a blanket in your best friend's room, one flashlight between the two of you. Parents didn't let their children wander around at night. Not when there was a war going on.]

[So, that's how he finds himself in the haunted house, walking through without flinching at all. He'd seen so much worse in his life, nothing in the house is phasing him. Cable begins to think this was a waste of time after all, when his curiosity is peaked by the quiet little kid's bedroom. Something else he'd never really had, for all sorts of reasons. He sees the closet, the light, and remembers 'Touch nothing and nothing will touch you!' written on the sign as everyone was shuffling in. Right, he thinks, opens the closet door, and steps into the next room.]

[The door behind him slams shut, and he looks around to the other(s) in the room. Cable smiles like a predator.]

Well, this just became interesting.


[Arrival]

[Cable knows he isn't home. Whether it be with Aliya and Hope, or with the idiot Deadpool and his X-Force, this isn't anything he's experienced before. Trees were all but gone, and forests, what was left of them, were destroyed. You'd be more likely to find gold on a streetcorner than anything made of wood. He's dreaming, he has to be. It's one of the most beautiful he's experienced, hears the voice. It breaks through the silence like static on a radio station, like the pain in his back as he's dragged through the forest. He tries to struggle, but he's unable to move; it's like an ignition in his brain being turned. And then there's a deer--]

[He wakes suddenly, dream still lingering at the edges of his unconscious, and he sits up. Once again, nothing is familiar. Cable finds his rifle at the end of the bed, upon a neatly folded blanket. The room is too neat, too cozy. He plants his feet on the floor and goes to look for the owner of the house. Only, there is no owner, no one other than himself in the small home, and his brow furrows in consternation. No newspapers or magazines, no television or radio. Nothing to tell him where and when he is. He leaves the house.]

[The only thing that feels good about this situation is his rifle, it's familiar weight resting against his back. He swears sometimes he was born with one... which leads to a silly image in his head, and he dismisses it. No, this is serious, and he needs intel. Where, when, and possibly how this happened, and if possibly he's not the only one affected. As he walks, he wonders if the dream had anything to do with his arrival. Had it even been a dream?]

[Cable sees someone on the opposite side of the street. He crosses over to ask them a question.]

What year is this?

holy shit holy shit holy shit hi

[4thwaller]

[ Haunted houses? Uh, they could have left it at haunted and Wade would have gone just to see if he could fuck with a ghost. So far he's been enjoying the god-awful experience simply for the novelty of how bad it is. Logan and Cable on their grumpier days are far scarier than this. The thought brings a chuckle from behind Wade's mask and he's about to mention this to the haunted house when the door slams shut. It doesn't scare him so much as send a burst of adrenaline through him and draw his attention to it, and towards someone who speaks before he can. Congrats Cable. ]

Wait, what the fuck, no way. Are you following me? [ Ah, yes, the familiar sound of one Wade Winston Wilson. Cable was the last person he'd expect to bump into here, especially after he'd bumped into Wolvy. But his attention is certainly not on the television, or Samara. ] I knew we were best buddies. Only best buddies stalk each other. [ It's hard to see in the low light, but the whites of his mask are on Nathan. And yes, that is duct tape wrapped around him, totally ruining the lines of his suit holding a familiar brick to his side. But Nathan really should know better than to think his motor-mouth will stop any time soon, horror movie scene unfolding right next to him or not. ] We're really going to have to talk about boundaries though. Or at least you'll have to ask Vanessa if-- [ His head swivels to look over to the television, and he's suddenly reminded of a movie that scarred millions. Okay, maybe a ghost crawling out of a television is enough to bring him pause.

For a minute at least. ]

clara oswald || doctor who

[oddbod]

[ 1 ]

[Okay, so. The zombies are a bit... unexpected? Unwelcome, at the very least. Just when Clara had begun to think that the prickle at the back of her neck was pure paranoia, that she was imagining how off this whole place seemed...]

Look, I'm sure we can sort this out. [She swallows down panic. Think, think.] Corpse to corpse, alright?

[How are you going to win?]

That's a very nice dress you were buried in, there. [Throw the flashlight and run for her life? Escape back into the house and hide?] What is it, 1920s? Love the 1920s, myself.

[She takes another step back, away from the encroaching posse of disgustingly undead visitors, and finally her eyes land on it. There. It's going to have to be enough. Slowly and carefully, she reaches back to grab the rusty shovel from against the wall - and then, she makes a swing towards Miss Maine 1920, lopping the poor girl's head right off of her sinewy neck with a disgusting rip.

Feel free to give her a hand. As much bravado as she has, she's still horribly outmatched.]

[ 2 ]

[At the very edge of the festivities, barely in earshot of the tinny seasonal music, a flashlight beam bounces through the thick fog. Oddly enough, getting chased by the undead hasn't exactly put her in a partying mood, so instead she's having a closer look around, just in case something else is lurking.

The fog doesn't make sense. It all seems like it's blowing from somewhere, billowing around her ankles even at the darker end of the street, but she hasn't seen a single fog machine.]

Is this all coming off the lake?

[She knows she saw signs for one, riding around earlier in the day. In any case, the question is far more rhetorical than anything. Whoever you are, she knows you aren't likely to know much more than she does.]

Oh- [Something in her hair catches her attention, and she quickly flicks a bit of residual zombie out of sight. Embarrassing.] Sorry. Rough night.

2

[morethan084]

[Meanwhile, Skye has been having a great time by herself. Which may or may not be thanks to the alcoholic cider and the chocolate glazed donut she's currently eating. She hears someone asking a question, and while she's not sure if it's directed at her, Skye turns anyway to see who it is.]

What is that?

[She saw something wet and slimy hit the ground, but it was hard to make out.]

Prompto Argentum | Final Fantasy XV

[argenti]

➶ 1 - Hocus Pocus

Okay, that last room? Super creepy. I mean, crazy TV lady chasing us, yeah, yeah. Pretty awful. But this room? Might actually be worse.

[ Prompto, as usual, is chattering his way through his panic. His words are accompanied by a gesture towards the creepy porcelain dolls in the room he and his companion just entered, and he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else. In fact, he proves it by immediately leaning this way and that, as if trying to see around the seemingly endless shelves of creepy dolls to an exit. ]

Alright, alright, this could be fine, we just need to- [ He stops, very suddenly, turning panicked eyes towards the other as the faint sound of giggling drifts towards them. ] Did- did you hear that? Is it worse if you did hear it, or if you didn't?!


➶ 2 - We Did The Mash

[ Alright, Prompto had really tried. He hadn't wanted to eat so many treats, no matter HOW delicious they all looked. Just because he was transported to some weird, funky dream world didn't mean he should start stuffing himself on sugars, after all! He'd wanted to just eat one, single donut and have that be the end of that... But he found that once he'd eaten that one, single donut he was suddenly filled with an increased appreciation for everything else, and immediately moved onto a candy apple and some hot apple cider when he was finished.

Currently, he's standing with his cider in front of the glowing, musical bats, gushing excitedly about them to whoever passes close enough. ]

Oh. Em. Gee. These things are... ADORABLE. And so talented! Hey, you think they take requests?


➶ Wildcard

[ Whatever you want! Feel free to PM. ]

hocus pocus

[vermillon]

[There's... really not much he's concerned with about the dolls. They may look utterly strange, but then again, what doll isn't? Not to mention they're inanimate-- he's heard stories of worse surrounding the elusive Antitower of the Sharlayans.]

'Tis simply the room of a hobbyist. [X'rhun is trying to be as reassuring as possible to the boy, though when someone is worked up that much, what can he really do?]

Really, I heard nothing. I would wager that all of this is merely to unnerve and make you feel as if there were something unn--

[X'rhun stops. His ears perk up, swiveling around. His tail stiffens, because now he hears something. Laughter and the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps. And he tenses instinctively, ready for a fight despite the ache in his muscles.]

Beka Cooper | Provost's Dog

[provostsdog]

[Arrival]

[Beka wakes up quickly, but she keeps still, eyes open only a crack as she takes in as much as she can. Finally assured there is no one else in the room, she moves slowly and deliberately. Assured that she seems to be unrestrained and uninjured, she gets up. After a thorough examination of the room she decides to try to find the source of the music.

She moves with caution, hoping to surprise anyone she might run in to.]

[We Did the Mash]

[Beka is well familiar with the idea of street festivals, even if many of the accouterments of this one are strange and unsettling. But there is free food, and she's known enough hunger in her life to get over the unfamiliarity of its form to partake of it.

The candy apples look especially appealing, and she bites into one.She turns to the nearest person, her blue-gray eyes wide.]

Did you make these? They're mighty amazing. Even M'lord's cook don't make treats so fine. Oh, you're hair is lovely in this light! How do you do it up?

we did the mash

[azurestar]

[Lance is just about to try the candy apple himself when he's interrupted by a young woman standing next to him, who's suddenly being very friendly. He blinks and grins at her, ruffling his fingers back through his hair.]

You think? It takes a lot of work to get locks this amazing, let me tell you. [His hair is short, but he really does put effort into his appearance and is probably overly proud of it.] And I didn't make these, but they're a pretty common thing back home. I know a guy who could tell you how to make them, but he's not in Deerington.

wynonna earp | wynonna earp (spoilers for s3)

[decorativepillows]

hocus pocus; worst movie ever

[She goes into the haunted house, because of course she does, because she's still not convinced this isn't one of Bulshar's tricks and if it is, Wynonna is going to get to the bottom of it. That also means going into the creepy door that showed up in the creepy house. The only light is the television and the darkness puts her on edge, enough that she draws peacemaker, though she leaves it at her side rather than pointing it at anything.

Until the girl starts crawling out of the screen. Then she definitely levels the gun at the figure.]

Alright, Samara, that's far enough. Unless you're after some hair care tips cause damn, girl, you need some work.

hocus pocus; zombie 2, electric boogaloo

Are you shitting me?

[It's always undead bullshit, although at least these zombies are a lot less chatty than Revenants, and less likely to shoot at her or have stupid crappy powers. The downside is that peacemaker keeps jamming, not to mention that when she does get off the occasional shot, these zombies don't get dragged back to hell the way Revenants do.

That leaves the shovel.

So that's great.

Anyone else who ends up in the backyard will find Wynonna, lightly covered in gore, going for zombie after zombie with no apparent plans for escape. She just wants them all gone.]

monster mash; some harry potter bullshit

This is so cool!

[Everything is kind of shit, but Wynonna is on a broom flying a few feet off the ground and it's amazing, she's never really known a feeling like freedom, but this is pretty close. At least until a gust of wind knocks the hat off her head and she goes tumbling back to the ground.]

Ow, come on, that's not fair.

[She's just gonna lie on the ground for a second, she'll be fine.]

Re: wynonna earp | wynonna earp (spoilers for s3)

[tinnitused]

[ baby's minding his own business, head down and hands tucked into his pocket when someone literally falls out of the sky and lands at his feet. he stops. stares, tilts his head and then looks up. ]

Rough landing.

[ stating the obvious there, baby. ]

You all right?

Sam Winchester | Supernatural

[exorcizamuste]

1 - Hocus Pocus

[ He wishes he could say this was just another day on the job. He wishes. But even in some of the weirder cases he's taken in his life, Sam couldn't say he'd been met with quite so much happening all at once. First he'd had to deal with some straight from the movies kind of spirit, and then some creepy dolls came to life and tried to slash up their legs? What he wouldn't give for just a simple salt and burn at this point.

At the very least, the room they'd just entered didn't have any immediately visible threats. It looked like a little cottage, but the dusty jars and book still gave Sam a weird feeling about the whole thing. ]

Be careful. [ He (probably unnecessarily) warned the other person he'd been fighting through the house with as they entered. ] Who knows what's supposed to jump out at us next? [ Probably something else cliche and ridiculous, if he was being honest. Still, he takes a moment to glance over at them. ]

Are you alright? Did the dolls get you at all? [ He himself has a small, lightly bleeding cut on his left leg where one caught him by surprise, but considering the dolls also bled he couldn't be sure if any blood on the other was their own or the dolls'. ]


2 - Monster Mash

[ Sam's been known to be a party pooper in the best of circumstances, and this particular circumstance? Is far from the best. He hasn't partaken in any of the food or beverages just yet, although there is a full cup in his hand that he must have absentmindedly grabbed when walking through the festivities and then forgot about. At the moment, he finds himself particularly preoccupied with the cats-in-hats lounging about in the light of some jack o' lanterns.

The rational part of him is still wandering exactly what kind of creature they are.

The irrational part is wondering how those hats manage to stay on a bunch of cats.

He's about to force himself to move on to other things when he turns around and knocks right into a passerby, spilling some of his drink on them in the process. ]

Crap, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know you were there- here, let me find some napkins-


3 - Wildcard

[ whatever you wanna do, man. feel free to hit me up to plan something out, or just go for it! ]

Monster Mash

[morethan084]

[Skye might've cared a little if it weren't the fact that she's on her third cup of the spiked cider, as well as having one of those amazing donuts. Instead, she just turns and tilts her head up a ways. Damn, he was tall.]

How would you? You're like eight feet tall.

[Well she thought she was funny at least.

Oh no. He's upset. Skye doesn't want him to be upset.]

It's fine. I've already spilled some on myself anyway. Here, have a donut. They're really good.

[She had just grabbed a second one for herself a second ago, but it seems like he might need it more than she does.

Noah / Ghost OC

[buried_in_water]

ARRIVAL / HOCUS POCUS

The boy sits up, breathing hard, eyes wide. He was screaming, the echo of it seems to hang in the air, and he has to fight to untangle himself from the sheets, but in a blind panic that seems almost impossible: the more he moves, the more tangled he becomes, the harder his heart hammers in his chest.

And then suddenly, he's free.

There's no trees, no deer, no forest. There's no water either, no willow tree, no bubbling watermeadow. He's in a bed that isn't his, in a room that isn't his. Somewhere, there's electronic static, like someone left the TV on too long. But beyond, there's the sound of music- Halloween music. It's not Halloween. He knows it's not Halloween. It's May, he's sure of that.

But he's not going to linger here, in this weird, dimly lit bedroom. He jumps out of the bed, but the movement is unnaturally slow, or so it feels, as is his rush to the door.

It doesn't open. His hand passes straight through the handle, straight through the peeling wood of the door. His heart hasn't stopped, hasn't slowed, and it feels like it's about to burst against his ribs when laughter behind him makes him turn. There's a party of laughing people passing through, dressed up as witches and werewolves, and for a moment he's sure they'll see him.

They walk straight through him, and straight through the door that swings open on their approach.

WE DID THE MASH

His heart has almost slowed to normal.

He's no closer to working any of this out, but he's out of that house and what seems, at first glance, to be a normal Halloween celebration. These people can see him, he's had people shout Cool costume! across the street, although he's not wearing a costume. They're probably drunk, or think he's dressed as a nerd.

What they can see, and Noah can not, is that he no longer has legs. Below his waist, where legs and jeans and all the normal bits should be, there is only a knotted skirt of various types of pondweed. It drips, but no water ever touches the pavement.

He drifts, rather than walks, amongst the party-goers, avoiding them as best he can as he tries to find something familiar, someone familiar.

we did the mash

[danzan]

Logan isn't familiar, but he looks at the kid like he is. But it's not so much the way the kid looks that triggers some note of familiarity-- instead, it's the way that he disappears into... into something, below the waist. Though Logan recognises the plants from one of the times he's drowned at the bottom of something or other, the boy reminds him of something he'd seen just after arriving to Deerington in the first place.

A lit house, lonely in the dark.

Dark creatures like purgatorial spirits wandering around it.

You don't forget what it looked like being surrounded by people drifting around you instead of walking with you. You don't forget the non-corporeal bodies of people you once knew.

"Hey." He tries to catch the kid's attention, pushing past solid bodies to get to him. "Hey--"

And as soon as he's in front of him, he stops. The animal in him whimpers in the back of his head and tells him not to touch under any circumstances. "...you okay?"

James Norrington / PotC

[his_majestys_navy]

WE DID NOT DO THE MASH, THANK YOU

All of this... extravagance is really very alien to James. Halloween is not a festival or celebration on either side of the Atlantic, and none of the surroundings of this place are familiar. It feels like it should be, the countryside itself reminds him of home, of the coastal towns in Hampshire, but otherwise? The music, the lights, the clothing, all of this is completely beyond him to fathom.

And yet, here he is. Why he is here is beyond him, but he intends to discover it. He vaguely recalls a voice saying he is needed, and then trees, but the memory is hazy. He can't say whether it was a dream or a memory that has almost totally faded, but it seems a small detail.

Clearly, in the middle of this carnival, he is not going to find the information he seeks. He will have to wait it out, and as such he finds himself wandering, trying to at least gather some small understanding of where he is, and why. He won't refuse the cup that's pressed into his hand, filled with something hot and sweetly spiced. It's a posset of some variety, and while normally he would refuse a drink, he suddenly feels ravenous. When did he last eat? Did he go to supper with his officers? Did he eat in his office? He can't recall, but he can not help but take a swallow now.

It warms him to the core, thick and slightly like cream, but he can't place it. He has another sip, and presses on, into the crowd.

[nottevintersoldier]

Dorian is perched somewhere nearby with a candy apple sliced onto a plate. He's almost daintily nibbling on them so as to not get Caramel in his mustache or down the front of his robe. He's had maybe three slices when he sees the Commodore, decked out in his officers uniform and the three corner hat. He adores it. And between the tipsiness and the candy apple, he absolutely must tell the other how much he loves his costume.

"I love your outfit, it looks absolutely dashing on you." A pause as he peers a little more closely, perhaps invading his personal space a bit. "Is that a wig?"

lance | voltron: legendary defender | season 7 spoilers

[azurestar]

i. arrival.

[Surreal deer nightmares aren't a normal sort of dream for Lance. Normally his nightmares consist of the stuff your average teenager fighting an alien war in space would be concerned about. You know, like getting blown out of an airlock and dying a painful death in the vaccum of space: normal everyday nightmares. But even he's astute enough to realize that the weird deer dream was probably more than a dream and has something to do with why he's no longer on his lion making his way back to Earth with the rest of the paladins.

He woke up in a strange house that looks like it belongs somewhere on earth like a century ago, and after a short little panic of where the hell am I, ventured out onto the street to find... a regular, though albeit spooky looking old town. He lingers in the front door, looking around the neighborhood for any kind of familiar face. Or the first face he can find, would suffice well enough too. This feels too real to be a dream, but it can't be anything else, can it? The fever dream with that guy Bob felt pretty real at the time too.

Wait-] Oh, hold the phone! This isn't that Bob guy again, is it? [He says it outloud to himself, but notices a second later that someone just entered within earshot nearby and he steps out onto the sidewalk with more purpose.] Hey! Where are we? Please tell me this isn't about to turn into a game show set or something.

ii. seven days...

[Lance hasn't been in deerington long now, just caught the haunted red-eye that morning (if the term 'morning' even means anything here), and he's about to get a taste of the weirdness this place has to offer. So far, he doesn't think it's all that bad. It actually seems pretty fun? He always liked halloween back home, so this is a nice nostalgic walk for him. Going into a haunted house with his siblings was one of his favorite things to do at that time of year. And that thought has him pretty homesick again, but he ignores it with a sigh and decides to enter the haunted house and see what's going on inside.

It seems benign for the most part, the rooms are pretty cheesy as he passes them, but it's the closet door that has his attention the most. Of course, he failed to pay attention to warnings about not touching anything and his natural tactile curiosity kicks in as usual and he reaches to open it. Whoever has caught up with him and joined him by this moment is welcome to try and stop him, but it'll be too late.]

Oh hey, check it out. [Once the door is open and they see the static TV set, he walks inside confidently placing his hands on his hips.] See, it's just a broken old TV, nothing to worry ab- [That's when the door locks behind them.] ... -out. Oh, quiznack.

iii. fly my pretties.

[After shaking off the very real scares of the haunted house, Lance is glad to see some stuff that looks genuinely fun going on in the streets that he's more than happy to go and immerse himself in. Though, he has his guard up after the surprises of the house, he won't for very long. After trying one of pumpkin spice lattes, Lance finds himself contemplating a broom in one of his hands and the witch's hat in the other.]

To fly, or not to fly... [He squints at the hat, skeptical of the whole situation and also if that crime against fashion is really worth it. So far, nobody has told him to do anything so the effects of the latte he just drank are unknown to him. But he does feel strangely ready to obey anyone right now deep in his gut and he thinks that's a little odd. He'll turn to the person standing next to him for their opinion.]

Okay, be honest. Everyone looks totally lame in this hat, right?

iv. candy disasters.

[At some point in the festivities Lance will have tried a candy apple and the candy corn at the same time. The result is a very depressed looking Lance sitting by a campfire while trying to cheer himself up with a hot cider and poking morosely at a row of several pumpkins he's gathered nearby. He's telling each of the pumpkins everything he thinks is amazing about them, both as pumpkins and as the stand-ins for his family members.]

You're so awesome, Luis. [He says as he pats the top of the pumpkin closest to him.] Nadia and Sylvio are the best kids ever.

[If you choose to come sit next to him, he'll automatically shift his attentions onto you, praising you even if you literally just met in this very moment.] Oh man, you're also great. So so great. There... there are so many great people in my life. [Emotionally, he covers his face with his hand and sniffles.]

v. wildcard!

[Hit me up with anything you like! PM or private plurk at spypigeon if you have questions etc.!]

i. arrival | HELLO

[shiro2hero]

[Just another day in Deerington. Get up and head out, if you're not working, you start patrolling the streets. Just in case someone out there is someone you know, and just in case things have changed for the worse. It's happened before. Like with the squids and the fog.]

[So, wrapped up in an oversize sweatshirt, still sporting the bandage across his face, Shiro heads out. He doesn't expect much, hopefully it's a quiet day--]

... Lance?

[Either his ears are playing tricks on him, or that's his teammate, his friend, yelling at some local. A few steps later, there's no mistaking it.]

Lance!

Dorian Pavus | Dragon Age: Inquisition

[nottevintersoldier]

[Arrival]

[Dorian wakes up with a start, heart racing and sweat on his brow. He's glad to be awake, that he can move and speak once more. There's nothing like being in a proper nightmare with paralysis. And that deer... was it trying to save him? It's all very strange but, wherever he is is even more peculiar. Everything feels off in ways he can't explain. Like that moment he went into the Fade with the Inquisitor. It doesn't feel quite real, and, being a fairly powerful mage who's in tune with the spiritual energy and elemental energies around him, or within him, he simply doesn't feel right at all. As he slips out of bed and finds his staff against a wall, he'll start to wander, looking at his surroundings. Even his staff doesn't seem to hold the same kind of energy it used to. Almost as if it is nothing more than a tall walking-stick.

Dorian follows the sound of music cautiously, eventually leading him outside to the festivities. All the decoration is unlike anything he's ever seen. Someone please help a poor lost soul...]


[The Mash | Trick or Treats]

[ Someones been partaking of Cider, enjoying it's flavor and not realizing when he began to pick up the alcoholic version of it. So Dorian is feeling rather good after his second cup, realizing then that his drink has been spiked. Not that he's complaining, in fact, he's rather impressed he never took notice of it. It's both tart and sweet at the same time, not unlike something he might drink at home. He'll go for a third, it's a party, after all, he's wanting to have a little bit of fun in this strange new world, it's better than the emptiness he feels within his magic. On his way to find more he'll bump into someone, stumbling slightly on his already tipsy feet, but not losing his balance.]

My apologies, I didn't realize you were there.

[Wildcard]

What it says on the tin! Feel free to make up your own shenanigans to meet Dorian. I am willing to write prose or use brackets and will follow your lead.

Wildcard!!!

[knightcommander]

[ This isn't Fereldan or Orlais. It doesn't seem to be any part of the Free Marches nor Tevinter that either of them have ever ventured to before. But they are not alone thank the Maker, and to Cullen's mind that means they have much better odds of getting home.]

Is it part of the Fade?

[ He's drawing a blank. He does not know how or why they are here, only that here is not Thedas. The fashion and oddly accented Common language proves that.]

kara / ax400 • detroit: become human

[resold]

I. Arrival

[ kara leaves the bed almost immediately with her basket tucked underneath her arm and her collar pulled all the way up.

wandering the streets is what looks to be a young woman, perhaps in her early-to-mid twenties, soft features and messily cut dark blonde hair. she looks... well she looks concerned, and if you're especially good at micro expressions, almost angry. she's clutching that basket tightly, fingers digging into the fine rope weaving as she walks quickly down the streets. she looks significantly ruffled, her eyes a little red around the edges, face worn into something fearful and desperate.

she doesn't want to feel helpless but she certainly feels it now, calling out names - Alice! Luther! - as she goes from street to street. she knows the place isn't exactly a ghost town, but she also doesn't care much for being quiet about looking for both of her charges, the two people who have been with her through so damn much. she can't just let them slip away like this through her fingers. not after they'd made it so far... they'd crossed the border, they'd survived and alice was just about to...

well she was just about to live that normal life she wanted right? she and kara and luther, all three of them. a normal life.

eventually she'll stop calling out and wandering aimlessly, having a seat on the steps of the same house she'd woken up in and beginning to go through the small basket she's been toting around with her for the past twenty or so minutes. inside of it, she finds all of the trappings of your typical deerington blessings basket, the letter stressing that she take a bite from the jar tucked away inside of it.

so maybe you live here, maybe you're passing by, but whoever you are, she spots you coming up the steps or passing by. lifting her head up, she holds out a jar of ripe strawberries - already opened up judging by how there are a few green leaves just beside her, having been bitten into. ]

Do you want the rest of these? I... can't really eat them and enjoy them. Seems like a waste to just throw them out.

II. Just a Bunch of Hocus Pocus

a. ) [ the haunted house is something that kara enters on a whim, cautiously with soft eyes observing ever corner and shadow from the foyer onward. the ominous signs that say TURN BACK NOW! and SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES don't seem to deter her in any way. honestly, it almost seems to pull a small smile to the corners of her mouth at the... cheesiness of it. that's what it is, isn't it?

though that smile seems to fade upon entering what looks to be a child's room. it's all soft, blurred edges, a small bed and small dresser. all meant for someone just that same size. the signs did say not to touch anything, so kara very gently ghosts fingers just above the surface of each object as if she can feel something strange or even nostalgic. while this looks nothing like alice's room, there's a distinct tingle crawling down her spine a she makes a round on the softly-carpeted floor.

when someone walks in, she immediately turns, eyes wide as a deer in headlights as she jerks her hand back and clutches it to her chest. the thirium pump resting beneath her breast is pounding furiously. fear. that was - it was fear. she knows it, feels it making her entire body hot trying to make the decision of fight or flight until she realizes you're just another guest in the house - ] I'm sorry you... caught me off guard. Hi...

[ an awkward smile, teeth involved. but she looks sweet. say hello. ]

b. ) [ making your way through the labyrinthine room of shelves full of dolls? here's the partner you happen to be stuck with - a young female android who looks like she doesn't seem to be capable of much at a glance. until the doll makes a first pass with its knife, trying to slice at whatever it can reach at its height. kara's entire body stiffens - the pass of the knife able to be felt, but hardly in pain - more in acknowledgement that she's losing thirium.

and fast.

she'd be concerned about someone figuring out she's an android, but her led is back so what's the point in keeping it a secret now?

the same doll comes to make another pass, but kara sees the silvery flash of the knife in its grasp this time. it tries to lash out, its arm flailing as if to slice the air and she's moving in front of it and giving it a very, very firm kick, causing it to go flying, the knife clattering to the side as the doll smashes backwards into another shelf full of the same... they shatter on impact as well.

kara may not be olympian in strength... but she was programmed to kick a mean soccer ball.

immediately she grabs the knife and hands it to you. her soft eyes have turned just a little harder, delicate brow furrowed with concern. ] Take this... keep an eye out. Did the other one get you?

III. Wildcard

[ if you'd like to plot something else out, contact me at shibes @ plurk! otherwise just go wild here! ]

i.

[metanoias]

[ Kara may not have immediately recognized Connor just based on the sheer absurdity of the mundane picture he's currently painting against this backdrop of nonsensical 1950s horror-confusion. Dressed in a mix-and-match of his Cyberlife uniform and ~deviant outfit~ (his android jacket had been ruined by corrosive blood — long story) with shopping bags in tow, he looks... well, like just some guy. It's a far cry from his Famous Deviant Hunter days, or even his fresh baby deviant in Jericho ones.

When she addresses him he stops and turns, observes her with a split second of skeptical disbelief and a slight tilt of his head. He recognizes her immediately of course but for the past two months North has been the only person he's been able to actually read. Now he's presented with a barrage of information that pings a probably-morbid nostalgia, given the nature — AX400. Serial #579 102 694. Murder suspect. Kara.

It's a good thing he'd apologized to her in Jericho, despite what he may have mentioned in previous threads a few weeks ago. Memory events can be weird, shh. Anyway, it means he can presumably approach her without inciting any kind of fear, at least not fear to the extent of, like, causing her to run away in terror or anything. ]

Kara? It's me, Connor.

[ In case, you know, she doesn't recognize his stupid face. ]

Tulip O'Hare (AMC Preacher)

[boo_berry]

[Currently going with end of S2 when she's shot by the Grail for canon point but pending a rewatch of S3. So spoilers possible for the canon blind to the show. Also am down with being mistaken for Rania for those from MCU.]

[We Did The Mash]

So far as far as Tulip was concerned this felt like a party back in Annville right down to cheesy décor and tons of food. "Just needs a few beers." she muses under her breath as she makes sure her pistol is safely under her jacket in its holster. But she could not help but to watch the brooms and fight off the desire to see if one of them worked. "Especially since a certain someone would go bananas at this, miss goody two shoes." thinking of Emily and her possible reaction. But grabbing a handful of the goodies may not be the best of ideas either.....
-----
[Its Just A Bunch of Hocus Pocus]

The haunted house screams cheese and that alone sent Tulip into the line but with her pistol at close range. But once that TV started to flicker she was on guard and well lets be honest, Tulip O'Hare is a shoot first ask later sort of woman. Especially after everything from Genesis invading her boyfriend to the Grail to a cowboy out to kill. So she quickly darts outside to only find zombies and well a bit of Cassidy did stick around, she gets her gun and shoots several of them right in the head. "All hail late night zombie movies!" she giggled, honestly this was the most fun she's had since that car chase in South Texas ended in fire.
----
[Wild Card]

Have Tulip will travel!

bill denbrough | IT (novel)

[hiyosilver]

[ arrival ]

[ Bill had left the basket in the room he'd woken up in. It seemed too heavy to lug around and once he'd finished exploring, he doubted that he would be able to find anywhere more suitable to come back to anyway. The information was still sinking in, the gears in his brain whirring as he tried to process it all, but... Okay, it wasn't actually the strangest thing he'd ever had to come to terms with, so it wasn't leaving him so puzzled that he was just going to sit around and wait to see if he'd wake up with enough slaps to his face or something.

The Fluid was too much for him to want to figure out how to operate at the moment, though, and instead, he'd focused on going to try and see if there was any familiar faces the old fashioned way; walking around town. He had hoped Silver would be magically chained up out front, but there was no such luck, and it felt... strange, for lack of a better word, to be exploring a small Maine town on foot. It hadn't taken long for him to find a calendar, to see that it was October, to feel a twist in his gut at the thought. Of course he'd wake up in a nightmare world in October.

He did his best to forget about it.

He peeked inside store windows, glanced in the grocery store, snatched up a free caramel apple (the thing had said to make sure to eat regularly, right?) and eventually found himself sitting down on the curb to eat it and take a rest from all the looking. It was a lot to take in and so far, he hadn't recognized a single soul in the place. It was easier to be brave when you had friends to hold you up, and he was starting to feel some anxiety seeping in around the edges the longer he went not finding any. ]

[ hocus pocus - book room ]

[ If you'd asked him why he'd gone into a haunted house of all things, he wouldn't have been able to tell you. What had looked dumb from the outside had become moderately creepy on the inside (glowing paint and self-opening doors were a little beyond him) had become stupidly creepy by the time he'd gotten to the closet, and for whatever reason against his own usually better judgement, he'd opened the damn thing and had a life of regrets since.

He'd ran from the girl who crawled out of the TV and the moment the dolls had started attacking, he'd been kicking as many of them into the walls and shelves as he tried to push his way for the exit there, too. He'd ended up with a rather nasty gash on his leg and a few decent cuts elsewhere as well, but nothing that stung quite as badly as that.

When the next room he enters is quiet, there's a sigh of relief, and he quickly went to limp over to a chair, setting himself down as he started to look at his cut. Gross. He was definitely going to need to figure out how to get out of here so he could get it wrapped.

Even if he wasn't alone through all of this, he doesn't try to ask for help or draw attention from his partner, because it would've meant speaking. He's sure that his stutter would make him completely incomprehensible at the moment, so he's not sure he wants to even try. ]

[ wild card ]

[ BRING YOUR OWN HORROR, MATES. ]

[clussy]

(The Losers never really seemed far from each other for very long. Maybe it was a little bit of their magic that kept them tethered through these weird loops in space and time. Eddie hadn't seen Bill in months, and while he missed the other Losers too, Bill and Richie had been the hardest to be without. Now that he had Richie, not having Bill hurt a little less, but it had still felt like he was missing the central part of his own personal universe. He could manage, sure. He's been managing through things for almost a year now.

Yet some part of him always seemed to look out for kids his own age just in the hope of it being one of the Losers.

Even tonight, he walked alone, a hot chocolate in one hand and a fresh cinnamon donut in the other. The donuts were out of this world. He had eaten about three so far, and he kept wanting to go back for more. The hot chocolate made his entire body feel great, and even though all he had on was the deer hoodie he'd won, he felt completely warm from head to toe.

That feeling doubled in size at the sight of a boy. He saw Bill mostly from behind, just a few steps away. He saw the slope of his shoulders, the cut of his auburn hair, and like how it had been with Richie, he didn't need to see Bill's face to know that it was his very best friend. Emotion popped wide open in his chest and before he could help it, he was giving an elated shriek of:)

Bill?!

(Oh, please God, please let it be Bill.

Eddie was darting off of the sidewalk and into the street just in front of Bill. And it was Bill. Oh. It was! Relief, joy, excitement- it all seemed to radiate from Eddie as he came crashing down. There's a sort of puppy clumsiness to his joy, toppling into Bill, arms thrown around his neck and God knows if either of them will hold up from the weight of Eddie Kaspbrak's excitement.)

Reaper | Overwatch

[no_reload]

➸ Hocus Pocus; Be a Doll, won't you?

[Haunted house? What a joke. Of course, he would ignore the warning, not entirely used to this type of place. The haunted house had simply seemed a good place to settle down and find a dark corner to lurk in while he took in his surroundings, so what was the point of not opening a door and taking a look around? The girl in the television? What a waste as he wraithed through her attacks and simply disappeared to the next room.

Dolls. Oh please. He had lived so of his life viewing horror movies. Now he had become one in his own right.

The first attack caught his trench coat but did little damage to his body. It was enough to earn his attention even as he moved through the room until he was in the direct middle of it. And then he waited for them to come so that he could smash them to bits and pieces with claws, fists, boots and even shattered parts of themselves when they became available. Destroying them with an easy pleasure, laughing maniacally as he did so. They were just stupid dolls made to be broken!

Their screams reminded him of different times, harder times. He reveled in them now, not even bothering to pull out his Hellfire Shotguns. This required a far more personal touch. This house thought it could haunt him? Well, it would come to regret that very notion and he would tear it apart doll by doll.

Once they were all smashed up and his wounds smoked from where they had managed to needle at him pathetically, he took a moment to dust the shards of porcelain from his coat and adjusted his hood. Well now, wasn't that worth the entire trip, hmm?

He stalked forward and moved to kick open the next door.]

There had better be something more worth my time.

➸ The Mash; Eat a Bullet instead.

[There was a time where attending Halloween parties was expected, where everyone had a rather good time admiring or teasing one another of their costumes. There was a time when he had enjoyed himself in such festivities, where the smiles were easy, the laughs hearty, and telling ghost stories came naturally. Halloween might have even been considered his favourite holiday of sorts, way back when the world wasn't turned on its head.

Now, he was a ghost story, a whisper on the wind.

Well, in places other than here, of course. No one seemed to consider his attire to be anything more than blending in with the residents enjoying themselves, the festivities and the food. There happened to even be a comment or two ("Great costume!" and "Wow, if you came out of the shadows, you'd be a real scare!" and "Did you make that yourself?"). Indeed; If I came out of the shadows, there wouldn't be enough of you to find; Mind your own business.

He was using the fact this was Halloween to his advantage, moving through the gathered people to investigate and listen in on conversation. It was crude, not like how he operated with Talon, but one couldn't overcome the adversity of this place either. It was stifling, but this was one holiday where he blended in perfectly wearing what he was most comfortable in. However, aside from drunken idiots, hugging, people telling others how wonderful they are (Disgusting) and general conversation, there didn't seem like there would be much to find.

Perhaps he would be more entertained in the haunted house. Give some people a real scare.

He pushed through people, avoiding others from bumping into him far too easily as if he simply wraithed around them and carried on. If anyone could come here, he was looking for familiar faces. Perhaps someone to take out the boredom on.]

Hey Mister, do you want a Latte?

[He turned his head and offered only a dark rumbling chuckle.] Do you want burns?

➸ Wildcard; He's Mr. Pumpkinhead!

[He's not horrible enough in the prompts? By all means, find a means to bother him. Also, I'm sorry he's terrible, and I'm also very new at this muse. Mostly not sorry he's terrible (but kind of am). Also, blame Deadpool for him being here at all. I will match reply style be it prose or action.]

the mash

[gaylic]

[ Parties were hard to avoid when they were nearly everywhere. Moira had gotten tired of the children who had been running through the corn fields out by her home and was instead had been trying to find some kind of peace and quiet in the town. She should have known these festivities had yet to cease.

This town took Halloween far too seriously.

She'd expected the same snacks, the same hard cider, and it had been tasty enough that she had pushed her way through the crowds to get to some of them, only to overhear that familiar voice in response to an offer of something so simple. She'd turned almost immediately, thankful he wasn't exactly hard to find, and gave a laugh. ]

That's the holiday spirit.

[ What's a hi, how you doin, when did you get here between two old... uhh... friends? ]

r.l. stine (goosebumps)

[ghostwriting]

it came from delaware ► arrival (network)

[Hopefully you're having a good morning, because it's about to be ruined. The cause behind this — public enemy number one, you might say — is a short, middle-aged man dressed all in black, which might actually seem kind of goth were it not for the fact that one of his pieces of clothing includes a sweater vest.]

There we— no— [There's a sharp exhale of air paired with a clicking tongue around his annoyed mumbling as he tries to center the camera properly. Guess who didn't read the instructions that came with the Fluid carefully?] This is so— oh! There we go. Am I recording?

[He takes a step back, properly coming into frame.]

Yes. Hello. [Good evening, you might expect him to say even though it is a) not evening, and b) not a late night horror movie block, because those haven't been around since the late 90s.] My name is R.L. Stine, from Madison, Delaware. I don't know if anyone from there can hear or see this, but— [An exhale.] —Hannah, sweetheart, if you're out there, talk to me, please. Or Cooper. I'll even take Champion. I am THAT desperate.

For everyone else, it's important that you listen to me CAREFULLY. You're all being held against your will and tortured by a master manipulator. I know who's behind this.

[He takes a deep breath.]

His name is Stephen King.

there are copyright laws for this ► hocus pocus

[Our man R.L. Stine has been having quite a day so far.

It's not like he isn't used to insane, homicidal monsters the size of his leg coming after him; it's one of the cornerstones of his writing career, after all. But when he's gone from roasting a gang of killer lawn gnomes alive in his oven to grappling with an evil ventriloquist dummy that may or may not be the personification of his darkness to trying to outrun a group of porcelain dolls with knives, all in the rough span of forty-eight hours, he has to wonder: is the universe trying to tell him something?

He's escaped from the last room with one long tear in the bottom leg of his pants from where a doll tried to cut his leg open, which is a pretty good victory all considered. That doesn't mean he's happy when he makes it to the next room — a witch's cottage with a bunch of rotten food in jars and drippy candles and a book made of blah blah blah blah.]

Be...honest with me. [He's still trying to catch his breath from the mad dash it took to make it this far. He stoops over, hands on his knees, looking up at the person he's with.] Why did we come in here again?

1 because obviously (video)

[clussy]

Okay. Seriously? Why do so many people bring up this King douchebag?

(Wasn't he just some mediocre author from Maine who liked to write about kids being tormented in a colorful variety of ways.....

...Oh okay you know what, Eddie kinda sees the point being made here.)

laura moon . american gods .

[apathet]

𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 (𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜)

a) [ we've made it. we've made it through the ring girl room (fuck you), the homicidal doll room (fuck you), we didn't open the book because fuck you and now? now we're outside. we're outside amongst the gravestones and the dark, the freshly bulging earth. and as one rotten hand pushes up through the dirt of a grave, Laura lets out the most indignant noise she's made throughout this whole, wretched ordeal. ]

Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

[ the dim, campy turned dismal light of the haunted house may not have shown it, but the skin of her otherwise perfect face is wretched and yellowing. her eyes partially filmed with the frozen onset of death's rot.

as jokes go? this one's pretty bad. ]


b) [ you've made it. you've made it through the ring girl room, the homicidal doll room, you didn't open the book and now? now you're outside. you're outside amongst the gravestones and the dark, and the freshly devastated corpses of the previously undead.

there's a small swarm of bodyparts and strewn entrails, torn and decomposed skin tossed everywhere. heads decorating the yard here and there. the smell is fucking atrocious. and whether the sight of a tiny woman stood amongst it all, clinging to her right arm as it hangs loosely in her bomber jacket, is more or less alarming than the rest is up to you to say.

at the sound of someone else present, her head lifts sharply up from frowning down at that damaged arm. she looks - scared? sort of. but just-got-attacked-by-a-swarm-of-hungry-zombies-scared? eh. ]

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚑!!!!

[ the good thing about this stupid fucking place? she's more or less over not eating, not drinking, etc. everything's stupid, her rot seems to be suspended, and although she can't taste it, taking a bite or two to eat isn't going to send her any closer to the grave. might make her feel a little less human, but only after it's allowed her to blend in. be where the people are, etc. you know.

so throughout the evening she's going to try more or less whatever's offered to her, or whatever happens to be closest to hand while she's lingering at a drinks table and finds herself close to someone who might talk to her for 10 minutes without noticing she's a rotting slab of long-enough-dead meat and running for the hills. it's a party. it's dark and the night feels warm in ways that have nothing to do with the flesh.

she's going to make the most of it. ]

— Hey.

[ it's an awkward opening, out of absolutely nowhere while you're busy choosing a drink or trying to mind your business doing something else altogether, but it's a party. and it's a start. ]

[ (PICK YOUR POISON shove a food/drinkstuff in the subject or tag and I'll run with it OR I'll rng one for her for the thread if you don't have a pref). ]

𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳,

( any and every other thing is a+ okay by me. she's definitely a zombie we can absolutely play with this if you faNCY or hmu @ miscreates )

fuck a

[danzan]

[ Logan's panting, but whether he feels pooped or not doesn't seem to matter. Then again, this is Deerington, and when the hell has any of the crappy things that've happened to him ever happened at a time that was convenient?

Never, that's when. His jeans are ripped below the knees now, but at least they match the shirt he has on, which was already ripped off the end to begin with.

He's gone this long without using his claws, he decides he's not about to start now. Stomping one boot flat into a rising hand, Logan walks over the graves in determined, heavy footsteps before grabbing one shovel and holding the other out to the girl with him. ]

Hey. [ He's not going to comment on her skin, even if seeing it under natural light is a little unsettling. ] You gonna run, or stay?

[ There's a definitive crunch when he digs the shovel sharp end first into one of the mounds of dirt. He's very sure he's just stabbed whatever's inside it. ]

nill. dogs: b&c.

[wingsit]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇!

[ you think this teen is dressed up for the occasion, in her somewhat appropriate attire ft. pair of small, white wings sprouting through the back of her dress? no. absolutely not. this is her outfit as brought with her from home, and these lightly fluttering feathered appendages are her very own. the hat and the broomstick? those she's picked up to feel a little more part of the fun. ]

a) [ somebody had a little bite of donut at the beginning of the evening's festivities and has been smiling ever since. she's nibbling at it every now and then as she wanders through the crowds, inspecting jack-o-lanterns and standing still for minutes to watch the little bats make their music. she seems to be having a nice enough time, broomstick in one hand and part-finished donut in the other...

but she's also spent that time entirely on her own in the crowd. that's a little sad. give her some company? ]

b) [ at some point in the evening, she's either been persuaded or persuaded herself to try using the broom as more than just decoration. sitting astride it, expression blank and puzzled, she stares down at the broom... and is suddenly in the air.

nopenopenopenoepneonepnoepnepnp. there's alarm on her features but no shriek leaves her. the broom starts rising a little higher and she's left there shaking her head wildly, kicking her legs to try and get the thing to drop back down to the floor. she's only a metre or so off the ground at this point... help? ]

𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒

[ on the one hand, she's the one who walked up here with the most enthusiasm, casting glances back over her shoulder to make sure you were following - or who collared you as you were lingering outside and made it clear she wanted to go in.

but now she's in the doorway, hovering with intent but not quite able to cross over the threshold, she seems a little less certain. truth be told, donuts brought her up here. donuts might not be quite enough to carry her the rest of the way. looking back, she hesitates... then holds out her hand. ]

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

( anything else is good by me! hmu @ miscreates if you want to run anything by me first )

IT'S FREE DAUGHTER also mash b

[danzan]

[ Logan doesn't notice her at first. He's way, way too busy pushing through all the dancing bodies and hating that he's had to deal with a month of this parties-at-night bullshit already.

But when he does-- well. He does.

And what is Wolverine if not stupidly self-sacrificing when it comes to poor, unknowing kids?

By the time he notices her, she's already floating a good height in the air, which means he's looking to climb up one of the houses and make a running jump to grab the broom. In theory it sounds cool as shit. ]

Hey! [ Raising his arm and waving at her, Logan nods. ] Don't move, all right, kid?

[ In practise, however, while Logan's jump and form is perfect, he latches onto the front of the broom with one hand in a remarkably clumsy fashion. The broom tips forward. Nill might be sliding a little. Logan swears.

But hey, at least those 300 pounds are getting them to sink a bit lower to prevent any serious injury? ]