All Hallows Haunt and All Must Have Fun

[concierge]

The fog had begun near the dusk hours, coating all the plants and flowers in the garden. It settled, heavy, and blanketed everything with a new cover that was only matched in mood by the graveyard that had unearthed itself from the grass and the moss. Names were etched on each gravestone, but the most unnerving part was that every few steps, if you stopped and listened very, very carefully, you might hear a knock of a human hand against hard wood. It was almost as if the dead were being called upwards.

The maze stood normal, but inside around the corners, there were things lurking and waiting.

Outside might have become frightening and gloomy, but the contrast to indoors was stark. Inside, carved pumpkins lit with candles turned the ballroom and restaurants into amber-lit abodes, costumed partygoers twirled to the music played by the band in the lobby (while the DJ had set up in the conservatory). Candy and small hors d'oeuvres circulated on the trays of immaculately clad waiters and though outside it was stormy, foggy, and spooky, inside was a delight of themed drinks, delicious food, and the manic and half-crazed mood of people in the midst of their fun.

The party for Halloween had begun.

And there was no telling when it might ever end.

Comments

[roartonrisen]

There are graves out there.

It's dark and eerie and it feels very similar to the night of the Rising, to the degree that Kieren is starting to feel like his heart is performing an anxious tap-dance, except that his heart doesn't beat. He'd managed to get back to Roarton in time for his next dose, but he'd started carrying his things with him after someone told him that doors could bring you back anytime.

Lucky he did, because now he's wandering around a graveyard and remembering what it felt like on the other end of the spectrum. He hears them moving, rustling, and he wonders, wonders if he's going to hear the clock strike midnight. "Simon is never going to let me live this down if there's actually a second rising, oh god," he breathes out, trying to keep his wits about him in this fog and with this noise.

[prongsdefiant]

"Rising of what?" James had always had a bad habit of wanting to ask questions when his mouth was otherwise occupied and such was the case now. He'd just popped something into his mouth (not sure what, exactly) and then the guy directly to his left started saying something about a rising and James couldn't wait until he swallowed to ask.

Rising could mean a lot of things. In James' experience, none of them were good and he had hoped to get a little time in the Nexus before heading back through to England to deal with his own rising. Voldemort was getting bolder by the minute.

[roartonrisen]

The fog's made it so that Kieren can barely see two feet ahead of him. When someone speaks, he feels dread consume him where his body can't offer the telltale physical signs of it (no hairs raising on end, no heart thumping). "Don't you hear it?" he asks, thinking that if he's going mad, that's just one more feather in his already mad cap.

[prongsdefiant]

"No, mate, I don't hear anything." That was a little disturbing. Usually when someone heard something that James didn't, it meant that he was falling down on the job (and he could hear Mad-Eye in his head booming constant vigilance just like he was still in Auror training) or that they'd gone mad. Neither was a terribly appealing prospect.

"What's it sound like?"

[roartonrisen]

"Like someone's trying to get out of the coffins," Kieren says, with the intimate and chilling knowledge of someone who's done just that. He remembers how hungry he'd been when he emerged from all that mud and earth, how he'd been single-mindedly focused on food and survival. It's the stuff of his nightmares.

He rubs the hole at the back of his neck compulsively, not sure what he's supposed to do. The last time there was a rising, his sister had gone off to war. Kieren's not sure he can do that. "The knocking, you don't hear it?"

[nebaritralk]

Chiana stood outside, her stance - feet wide apart, head tilted to the side, swaying in place a little - a clear picture of perplexity, when it came to her. When she heard someone come close, she glanced at them before looking back at the stones with names on them. Fog was rolling in from a little way off, but she didn't pay it much attention; it was just fog, presumably. "What's all this about?" she asked, with a nod at the nearest name stone.

[buryyouwithmysound]

"Way cool," Marceline's always been a fan of the dark and spooky, it comes with the vampire queen territory. She floats a few feet off the ground, holding a glass of punch that was red and is fading to gray as she sips out the red.

Maybe she'll find some folks who are scared of vampires. For kicks.

[likepalegold]

It's terribly odd for Jay Gatsby to be standing in the midst of a party of glitters, gold, and more madcap insanity than he's seen in some time. At least, the odd part is that his money isn't responsible for such things, but after his last to-do when he'd realized that Daisy wasn't about to appear as if from a light on the edge of the horizon, he's taken the passenger's seat in such things.

It seems he never had to worry about throwing the party. Whomever is planning the affairs here is doing a fine job. Gatsby adjusts his straw hat, plucking a glass of water from a passing tray as he sips at it calmly. He still walks through the revellers like a man in charge of the party, but he's here looking through the costumes as if he can find a familiar face in just one of them.

More than that, as ever, perhaps Gatsby's searching for friendship, hardly recalled, in the form of his good friend Nick Carraway. Costumes are plentiful here, but friends seem to be few and far between, but possibly that's Gatsby's trouble. Too discerning an eye, too narrow a gaze, and too picky a life.

[the_dawnster]

Dawn is alone at the party indoors. She's on her way out when she spots another man standing alone. He's looking over the crowded room as if he were looking for someone. Maybe that someone was a specific someone. Maybe it was just anyone who he found to his liking. Dawn wouldn't know. But his search is intent enough that Dawn has to take notice.

Dressed in her costume she had pieced together, a dark version of Alice Liddel, she stops and stands next to him, shoulder to shoulder, as he looks out over the room. She looks over the room too, looking at things from his vantage point with a napkin in her palm piled high with sugary treats she had plucked from several different trays as they passed by.

For a minute she says nothing. Instead, she pops a candy corn infused cookie in her mouth, eats it, stands in companionable silence. But finally... "You're supposed to look like you're having fun at a party, you know."

[likepalegold]

"I never did get the hang of attending parties," Gatsby admits, drawing his attention away from the affair to regard the young woman looking particularly fetching in her costume, though Gatsby hasn't the faintest idea of who she's meant to be. "Remind me, now, who are you meant to be? I'm afraid since I've been here, I've fallen behind the times. I've had simply no time to pick up the latest news and read the fashion columns, much to my dismay," he says, hearty and positive, as if he hasn't a care in the world despite the truth of the matter.

[the_dawnster]

"Well smiling is a good start." Dawn casts the man a bright smile that could be forced and insincere if she wasn't genuinely enjoying herself and if she hadn't just thoroughly amused herself by telling him to do something so simple as 'smile'. Honestly, Dawn was easily amused and a professional at amusing herself. It came from too much time left alone to her own devices and not having very many friends aside from herself.

"I'm Alice Liddel, from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. Only I'm a version of her from this super awesome video game I played back home where she's all dark because people thought she was crazy when she talked about Wonderland and white rabbits so they put her in an asylum. But really it's all real and she kicks butt." Look at her pausing to breathe here. Just for a second. "And did you know that Lewis Carroll's real name was Charles Lutwidge Dodgson? Lutwidge. I'd change my name too. Only to something way cooler than Lewis." She looks at him. "You name isn't Lewis, is it?" Because if it is... oops.

[likepalegold]

He raises his brow, inundated by the words which wash over him like the barrage of the cove on a stormy day, when the winds pick up and assault his beach with heavy waves. At least, it had, back when he'd owned property and his own affairs weren't so heavily mandated by a strange hotel in the middle of nowhere. "I'm afraid I don't understand half of what you're saying, by no means of rudeness but merely due to the fact that I'm not from a time that has these..." He twirls his hand, as if to elaborate. "...video games."

"And no, my name certainly isn't Lewis," he assures, offering a polite bow as he taps his walking stick twice on the ground beside him. He's dressed in his own clothing, having been reliable informed that it would be costume enough. "It's Gatsby."

[the_dawnster]

There was a party, that meant Dawn was there. And the fact that it was a costume party just added fuel to the fire. She had put together her own costume for the most part, one she was most proud of. It was a character from a video game she had played back home, a darker version of Alice Liddel from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland. The costume fed both the gamer and the book nerd parts of her.

She's in the ballroom, perusing the trays of d'oeuvres and plucking different treats from each to place on a napkin in her hand. Those who know Dawn know she has an insatiable sweet tooth.

While she's enjoying the indoors, she's heard whispers of what's happening outside in the gardens and a graveyard. Maybe Buffy is out there. And maybe Dawn will brave herself up enough to go out there to inspect as well. For now, she would enjoy the party. And despite the very real fake-bloody knife that's a part of her costume, (Summers girls are rarely without a weapon of some sort) she's extremely approachable.

[notgivingyourmoneyback]

So, last year, the costume he found in his room was for a comic book hero. He'd thought about rolling that one out again, but when he'd opened the closet again, he'd found a surprise. It's one he can live with, so he goes with it.

Truthfully, he'd considered just showing up to the party as himself, but that didn't seem very sporting, so he had peeked into the closet for a costume. (He'd also considered just getting a hat to wear and calling it a day.)

He enters the party, dressed head-to-toe in the uniform of a Major League Baseball player, complete with cap and bat. He doesn't know why the bat is necessary, but he's carrying it along.

He spies a familiar-type person lurking like she thinks she might slip outside. He slinks his way up behind her and drops the end of the bat to hit against the floor. "Trick or treat, little girl," he says, because, yes, he is still an asshole, even on Halloween.

[the_dawnster]

When she hears that particular voice Dawn has to smile. It's pretty much involuntary at this point. She likes Harvey a lot whether he wants her to like him or not. And they've spoken enough for her to recognize him. They've hung out enough for her to enjoy his company even when he's irritable. Let's face it, sometimes he's irritable. Dawn thinks it's cute.

She turns around and gives him one of those wry arched brow looks that says 'really?'. She was going to say that she wasn't a little girl but she's immediately distracted by his costume. He looks... really good. She's not going to say that out loud though because of possible embarrassment.

Instead... "Apparently the rabbit hole leads to hot baseball players." Okay, so that came out of her mouth in different ways than she intended. She holds her napkin-o-treats up to him. "Chocolate minty thing? They're super yum."

[notgivingyourmoneyback]

Harvey, irritable? Never. The cute thing he would certainly argue.

Wasn't she not going to say that he looked really good? If he still had his 'superpower' he would've known anyway. He's actually quite glad that 'power' has decided to depart. It never once reached the point of 'fun', so he'd just rather it was gone.

He foregoes the offer of food in favor of addressing the first thing she said. "'Hot baseball players'?" he asks. "Is this because it's me or because you're really attracted to baseball players?" He might be enjoying this conversation a little bit already.

[the_dawnster]

Of course he ignores her cover up of food to focus on what she wasn't going to say but said anyway because sometimes words just fall out of her mouth unchecked. Her lips press together and sort of twist to the side as she thinks about whether to shove some chocolate into his mouth and tell him to shut up or answer his question. Maybe she'll do both just because of the amusement factor.

"Mostly because it's you. But also I'm never opposed to boys playing sports in tight pants and fitted shirts. One could even say I enjoy ogling. If sports voyeurism were an Olympic sport, I'd be a gold medal in spectatoring." There. That wasn't too bad, was it? Noting Harvey's cuteness and then blanket covering it up with an overall appreciation of boys being boys? Yeah. She did good.

She lifts a chocolate up to his lips. "Now shut up and taste the yum."

[shes_biochem]

Dressed as Marie Curie, Simmons has come to the party for respite. She's been back home and things are...well, things are what they are. Tense, utterly frustrating, and she keeps feeling a bit uneven. She doesn't have Fitz the way she used to and now things with Hydra in her shadow has made her extremely wary. So she's playing with a small bit of candy in her fingers.

Even her scientific disguise isn't making her feel any better and it's a very sad day when Marie Curie can't cheer her up.

[freezedout]

Outside is doing a number on Isaac's head, to say the least.

His werewolf senses keep picking up on noises that he's pretty sure he knows what they are, and given his previous occupation, it's one of those old recurring nightmares that's hard to shake. Add in that thick, heavy fog, and he feels some of his claustrophobia start to kick in and make him feel unbalanced and unsteady. He's by one of the windows in the main room, peering out past the curtains. He needs it to clear, needs the noises to stop, and if they don't, then he's definitely not going anywhere because if something's coming, then...

Isaac growls lowly, digging his nails into his palm to try and prevent himself from turning against his will.

[legendthatwas]

Martha had dealt with Weeping Angels. She could handle fog and Things That Went Bump In The Night, and general eerieness. It didn't mean she liked it entirely, per se, but she could handle it. Handle it in a smart way.

Handling it meant staying inside, for the most part, and consuming far too much sugar than what was good for her. In fact, she was probably no longer going to fit properly into her Storm costume (this year not the Halle Berry version but the one from the cartoon when she was a kid--tongue in cheek commentary that only she would understand, but she'd live with that).

She flipped the white hair of the wig back over her shoulder and leaned back in her chair, appraising everyone's costume and considering her next move. There was really no need to hurry.

[ourselvesalone]

The world is a strange and curious thing, isn't it?

Victor had thought that London held all the strange things in the world, those wicked things and murders that had plagued the city in the back of his mind. How can he be surprised with the past he bears? And yet, this place does have its odd surprises. He'd been in the maze when the fog had set in and now he's lost and stuck, careening around corners when his breath picks up pace and his heart matches. He starts to leave clues behind him when he becomes increasingly lost, but even that seems to do nothing.

From the sounds of it, it's as if the maze itself is rearranging to keep Victor trapped within. Frustrated and not stubborn enough to deny that he needs the help. "Is anyone out there? Is anyone outside this ridiculous labyrinth?"

[buryyouwithmysound]

Floating up above him, Marcelline laughs under her massive lace parasol. Are all humans so fussy? They can't be. If it had been Finn, he'd probably gone and hacked at it with a word. Not so much this guy.

"Need a way out?" she teases, drifting down.

[ourselvesalone]

Victor's heart drops in a staggering display of acrobatics he had thought himself incapable of. He glowers upwards, though logic tells him that he ought to be more occupied with the impossibility of what he's staring at. Still, it seems a strange thing and something he's not ready to cope with, but then, that's been his lot in life lately. "Which way do I go?" Victor demands, though it lacks the conviction it might have, earlier.

[buryyouwithmysound]

"Up, duh," Marceline says. She grins and shapeshifts, turning partially batlike before going back to her usual vampire shape.

"Unless you're too scared to hitch a ride with the vampire queen."

[ourselvesalone]

"You're above me, you can give me directions, thank you," Victor notes crisply. He doesn't have a fear of heights, but he does have a particular fear of a stranger toting him around. He's rather particular and he can't say hitching a ride with an odd flying madwoman is a good idea. Especially not since this one appears to have some manner of fangs.