September 2022 Test Drive Meme

[folkie]

SEPTEMBER 2022 TDM

INTRODUCTION

[ TDM Questions ★ Jump to Comments ★ Full Navigation ]
Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.

All TDMs are game canon. You can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Each TDM will provide a scenario for how characters arrive in-game that particular month.

Playing TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.

Current players are allowed to have in-game characters react to TDMs via the Network or make a log with the prompts. Current players are always encouraged to tag new people on the TDM!

TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.

[ Prompt One ★ Prompt Two]

GOLD WAS THE COLOUR

Content Warnings: mood-altering substances.

What a Wonderful Harvest

It's harvest season in Folkmore. Apples, squash, potatoes, onions, peaches, sweet corn... all manner of crops are ready to be gathered, and golden fields fall willingly before the scythe. The air has a chill to it that you can mostly ignore in the sun but runs deep when you stand in the shadows.

After arrival you will find yourself out in said fields, maybe a little disoriented but not in any danger. It's peaceful.

In the farmlands you might be able to hear music floating on the wind. Follow it, or just wander by accident, and you'll find yourself coming upon what looks like some kind of costume party: people dressed up in cloth and vegetables - mostly gourds as masks - are singing and dancing around an enormous pole surmounted by the biggest Jack-O-Lantern you've ever seen.

The pumpkin people seem shy, but they won't turn you away if you wish to join their celebration - there are other Star Children like yourself here, and you might feel a little more comfortable with them. At least you can see their real faces. You can drink some apple cider and carve some pumpkins yourself if you like, or help out by husking some corn.

At some point, you will become aware of the fact that the dancers have stopped, and the object they've been dancing around has moved. The Jack-O-Lantern is looking at you.

The pumpkin king leans down, eternally smiling.

"Trick or treat?" he asks you in a deep voice. You'll have to pick one!

"TRICK."

The partygoers all watch you carefully. The lord of the harvest appears to think for a moment, then nods his massive head. One of the veggie dancers approaches you with a tray upon which are five cups of cider.

"Pick your poison," you're told, and you can only hope it's not literal!

Four of the cups of cider will have no effect whatsoever. But the fifth?

That fifth cup of cider makes you feel more social. Less reserved. Downright friendly, even. You want to talk and joke with people even if that isn't normally something you'd do. You might even join the vegetable dancers for a spin, and drag someone else along with you! Your judgment isn't quite impaired, but your inhibitions are definitely lowered. Might be a quick way to make some new friends, though!

"TREAT."

You are offered a large basket, held so that you cannot see inside. After some fumbling, you pull something out. What is it? It's an envelope. Or a cassette tape. Or a photograph. It might be the mixed tape you created for your high school crush, the poem you wrote about your broken heart, the letter you never mailed to your estranged father. It's something personal that is connected to someone from home somehow. As you hold it in your hands, you will feel an irresistible urge to explain it to the person next to you no matter how embarrassing or painful it might be. You can only hope that they aren't a colossal dick about it.

HELL WAS THE JOURNEY

Content Warnings: aggressive dogs, decapitated spectres, potential violence.

GET AHEAD

The sun sets earlier and earlier every day, but that doesn't mean there's suddenly nothing to do! The warm lights of homes all over Folkmore welcome people inside for parties. Of course, the Spirit People of Folkmore are rarely humanoid, so you may find yourself at a dance for frogs or a cocktail party for round fuzzy critters with giant eyes. Regardless of what kind of creatures you wind up partying with, they are excellent hosts!

When food has been had and drinks are flowing, someone suggests a time honoured tradition: the telling of ghost stories.

The guests take turns, spinning tales both familiar and not. One such tale is that of the Horseman and his Hounds.

This, the storyteller insists, is a true tale, and is as follows:

Folkmore is home to many Spirit People, and many other creatures besides. While most of these wish only to live their lives, there are certain powers that Thirteen leaves to their own devices, no doubt for reasons all her own. When the autumn harvests come and the leaves burn with colour and fall to the ground, the dominant spirit of lonely places is the apparition of a figure on horseback, without a head. Some versions of the story claim the horseman's head is carried before him on the pommel of his saddle, while others say instead the spirit carries a lit Jack-O-Lantern in place of it... and wishes to find a more suitable replacement. No matter the variation, the rest of the legend is the same: in autumn, on lonely roads, unlucky travelers will hear the baying of hounds. Moments later they will see the Horseman upon his stallion, and then the unholy troop will pursue the hapless travelers across hill and valley.

Some tales are told of Star Children fighting off the spectral hounds and challenging the Horseman to a fight, with varying levels of success. All are in agreement, however, that the sure method of survival is to escape over running water. Easy enough in some parts of Folkmore... less so if you happen to be caught out in the desert of Cruel Summer.

All parties must end, and this one does too, which means you now have to make your way home. Not that you're scared or anything, but maybe it's wise to walk with someone else tonight...

Not that it matters. Ultimately you and your companion will find yourself on a lonely stretch of road somewhere, and just as you've managed to convince yourselves that nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen you hear it.

The Hounds.

Turn and you'll see them, dark and sleek, and beyond them their infernal master. Atop a gleaming black stallion, the Horseman is gigantic in height and muffled in a cloak.

Whether you run or stand and fight is entirely up to you. As if to make it more of a fair fight, there are weapons hidden off the road - stumble into a ditch and you might find a rifle or a sword. The Hounds have very sharp teeth but they themselves cannot be injured - if struck they simply turn to black smoke and vanish. The Horseman cannot be killed - he has no head! - but if you fight him to a standstill he will reward you with the gift of something from your homeworld. This can be a weapon or magical item.

If you manage to cross a stream or a river, the spectres will vanish with howling and laughter.

ODDS BODKINS

You're likely to be shaken up after your encounter, so it's relief when you see that there's a bonfire lit not far past the water you've crossed. Perched all around it are a bunch of different owls, many wearing hats. They all swivel their heads to look at you before they hoot and gesture for you to come near. There, set up to one side of the bonfire, is a long low table laden with drinks in many different colours and little cakes and cookies. You always thought owls ate mice, but whooo's to say? Hoo? Get it? On another low table are supplies for patching people up in case your fight with the Horseman got a little intense! The owls don't have hands, but maybe there's a kind stranger nearby who'd be willing to help you? Or maybe you just want to talk to someone who has their head on right!

Comments

Questions?

[folkie]

Ask em here!

Re: Questions?

[subroutined]

when it says "people dressed up in cloth and vegetables - mostly gourds - are singing and dancing around an enormous pole"

is that...
1) people who are dressed up in both cloth and vegetables are dancing
or
2) people who are dressed up in cloth, and also vegetables are dancing

KO TENJIN | HANDEAD ANTHEM | LEGEND.

[exaltruistic]

01. ) WHAT A WONDERFUL HARVEST

//////////////////////////////// CW: MIND ALTERING SUBSTANCES ////

( When faced with such a strange and massive thing such as this Lord of the Harvest, Ko figures its best not to gape and gawk, but rather show respect.

So he smiles warmly, and he picks trick.

Ko is lucky enough to have chosen the fifth cup of cider, and after its effects have kicked in, he's trying to teach some of the pumpkin people how to dance — his way (FLASHING LIGHTS WARNING). Laughing as he goes. )

No, no, not quite — great effort, though, you almost have it! Just make your movements wider and you'll be perfect!

02. ) GET AHEAD

//////////////////////////////// ???? ////

( Ko knows he doesn't have a chance in Hell, here. He's not exactly the fighting type; if it ever did come to blows, Atsuhide and Takakage and even Shino would sooner step in than allow their God to dirty his hands.

He's small and slight, far too wiry to be able to do real damage against something so massive and incomprehensible.

Ko trips over his own feet as he runs, rolling down into a ditch with a low cry of pain.

Help him? )

03. ) ODDS BODKINS

//////////////////////////////// CW: INJURY, BLOOD ////

( He has a sizeable number of furrows on his back, slashed right through the fabric of his coat and the sweater beneath. Not to mention he's twisted his ankle some. )

Excuse me, do you, uh ... Mind? Helping me out, I mean.

( His voice is quiet, breathing a little ragged. )

03

[foundpurpose]

[The man he faces is tall with wide black wings folded against the back of his black armor. Vax’ildan steps forward and offers his arm.] Come on. We can sit down over there and I’ll patch you up as best as I can.

[If allowed he leads him over to a flat rock near the bonfire. The owls will turn their heads to watch them.]

inquisitor lavellan | da:i | ota

[vhenan]

gold was the color

i. what a wonderful harvest
( Elera is no stranger to harvesttime, though it was never greatly celebrated amongst the Dalish. They hunt, they move, they do not stay and till the earth as humans do; but knowing the turn of the seasons is no less important when you rely on nothing but what nature gives you for survival. While her arrival here borders on the familiar, like everything else, there is something different about this one -- or rather, who is celebrating it.

She so deeply dislikes masks, though these are far stranger than those she's used to; and the celebration at least seems far less likely to end in bloodshed than the last masked dance she attended. Though, in fairness, that was her own doing -- a choice made against the wishes of so many of the Inquisition. One Elera did not particularly feel inclined to regret. But this... this was far more comforting, far more familiar than gilded faces and hidden daggers.

With enough pressure, she can be coaxed into carving pumpkins or striking up a decent conversation -- no amount of pleading will get her to dance, however. If someone tries, she'll simply extend her arms -- or rather her right arm and the top half of her left; her arm is missing from just above the elbow. )

You'll find my sense of balance has left me with two left feet and no left arm.

( That is not exactly the truth, but she sees no need to explain further. )

ii. treat
( It is unfair of them to expect her to explain the object in her hand, even as she finds herself turning to the nearest person next to her. It is not particularly large, this simple necklace -- a half jaw of some canine, wrapped with simple leather straps -- but she holds it as if it will jump to life and bite her. )

My people hold their gods in high esteem. ( She begins, unable to stop herself. ) And damn the traitor who locked them away from the world. All our suffering... the loss of our immortality, our empire, laid at the feet of this god. His name was Solas, and this was his.

hell was the journey

i. get ahead
( Unfortunately for Elera's walking companion, her first instinct upon seeing the Horseman and his hounds is not to flee and seek the nearest stream or river, but to turn and fight. Having nothing on hand only makes her angrier -- she has no staff, no spirit blade hilt. But that doesn't make her helpless. Looking to the other, she gives them a short nod -- they can flee if they wish, but she will do no such thing. Not unless there is no other option. )

As a fair warning, I have no clue how my magic will behave here.

( She concentrates, pulls on the threads of the Fade that she simply assumes will be there, and creates a wall of burning flame behind the horseman and the hounds. Not... exactly where she intended to put it, but she will accept it for the gift that it is. )

[ feel free to give me something completely different if you'd like, i can roll with anything! or reach out to me at tsarcasm to plot something! ]

{ hell was the journey }

[enchantibiotic]

[ The half elf next to her immediately adopts a defensive stance, hands raised and palms facing the horseman and his hounds. On her shoulder is perched a peregrine falcon who lets out a caw, but the woman shakes her head. ]

You stay put, Azoth.

[ And to the elf beside her, Christine says: ]

Nor I with mine, but I will shield us if I can.

Hu Tao | Genshin Impact | Undecided

[localweirdo]

1. What a Wonderful Harvest

[Hu Tao had to admit. After arriving in a strange new world, she wasn’t sure what to expect. With so much being thrown her way, she figured that this would be the time for people to give a long winded explanation of how things work around here. And yet, she found herself enjoying this merry little festival.

Giggling to herself, it seems like everyone was having so much fun! It certainly fits with how much she loved the spooky theme around here!

That said, as she found herself looking up at the pumpkin king and digging around a basket? She ended up getting a letter of sorts. Suddenly, without any warning, she found herself blurting this out to the nearest person.]

Did you know that I spent the night with ghosts for a couple of days?

2. Get Ahead

[So much for enjoying her time here. Now that she was attempting to run away from the Horseman, she quickly looked at the person next before yelling at them.]

If you happen to know a good place to hide, now is the time…! To think that he would know where we are! He is definitely a head of us!

[Because even in dangerous situations, she must find a way to crack a joke somehow!]


3. Odds Bodkins

[Thankfully, her injuries aren’t that bad. She had faced many encounters back in her world and a scratch or two was nothing. Still, she found herself sneezing before making her way toward the various snacks. Looking at said items and then back at the person next to her, she gave a mumble or two.]

Have you tried any of these things before? You don’t think it’s dangerous, right?

4. Wildcard

[Surprise me!]

1.

[subroutined]

Really?

[ Given how strange all this is, Ash isn't sure if this woman is being serious, or if she's making some sort of joke. If it is a joke, it's probably at his expense, but he wouldn't know whether it was or not until it's too late.

Oh well. Might as well play along. ]

What was that like. I can't imagine ghosts'd be great conversationalists.

Baphomet | The Wicked + The Divine | "Myth" (Familiar)

[punderworldgod]

The Treat's a Trick
CW: infidelity, abuse (physical, emotional), parental death, murder, suicidal ideation, magic like terminal illness, police
Note: all of these could come up. If you are interested in the prompt but would like to avoid one or more of these, please note which ones, and I'll tailor the response accordingly.

YOLO is the theme of the night. Baphomet carves his sigil into a jack-o-lantern, removes the bottom, and wears it over his head. He counts one, two, three, four and snaps his fingers. Flames surround his face inside the jack-o-lantern first blurring his features and hiding them in the flickering yellow orange flames. From then he dances and dances and dances the night away. While it continues, he forgets himself to the moment. It's bliss.

It jerks to a halt, and Baphomet returns to himself. The jack-o-lantern that makes him look like a grade school kid makes eye contact through the pumpkin and the flames. Trick or treat? There's only one answer Baphomet ever gives. He stares at the big man and becomes convinced it's reverse psychology. With that in mind, he answers,

"Treat."

The overflowing bowl of treats gets a smirk, and Baphomet digs in deep. His fingers close around something small and round, a capsule that'd be at place in a gachapon. He opens it to a small handpainted figurine that belongs to a tabletop game, not just any figure but one he remembers perfectly even though so many days after feel like a blur.

That's a trick all right. "You got me," Baphomet bows and turns to the person next to him. He feels it inside, the urge to explain the unholy terror and pain that comes from such a small innocuous 'treat.'

Fair Fight (No Such Thing)
CW: only what the prompt would expect (fictional violence, no real harm to fictional doggos, injuries)

"The best ghost stories are real," Baphomet says with a broad grin behind shades, despite the dark. He whispers four numbers under his breath, and a long heavy pipe manifests in his hands. It catches fire, and he takes a fighting stance. It may have started with LARP, but he's been in enough god fights the last year and a half.

He closes the distance at a run, even if his companion runs away. One fiery swing ends with a hound turning to smoke. Another hangs off his jacket. The teeth don't pierce the thick leather, but that jaw doesn't come loose even as Baphomet completes a full circle. The long line of fur like fringe on the jacket.

Doctor Hoo
CW: injuries, patching up

Dripping water from his knees down, Baphomet stumble walks up to the fire. He nods at the owls in hats and flashes them finger guns. "Opposable thumbs, anyone?" he asks.

They hoot, "Whooo whooo whooo."

"I'll be back," he tells them with an Austrian accent. Wandering over to the tables, he drinks something colorful for courage and heads for the first aid supplies. Nothing like stitching himself up.

doctor hoo

[fxckery]

Owls aside, there's a shocking amount of medical care in these parts. To Edward's estimation, at a certain level, it was all terribly unnecessary. A needle and thread had solved most problems for most of his life, and there was no reason to stray too far from it over every little thing.

Owls included, there are better and worse ways to apply a needle and thread. On someone else? Infinitely less annoying than on oneself.

"Oi." The traditional friendly greeting. "Need extra hands?"

Helga Pataki | Hey Arnold! | Myth

[oldbetsy]

[I] "TREAT";

[Helga's been through more than a few Halloween shenanigans, at least when she as a kid anyhow. There was the whole aliens fiasco not to even get into the urban legends and that time she dressed up in a wedding gown to scare the bejesus out of everybody. A bunch of people dressed like vegetables -- okay, well, gourds -- was the least of her concerns.

What concerned her more was when she chose and got to see what was in the basket. She had expected food or candy or something normal Halloween trick-or-treat like, y'know? Instead it was -- ugh. Boy oh boy did she recognize this dumb binder. She snorts at it, muttering:]

Like Atlas bearing world I have to constantly drag this thing around with me no matter where I go, don't I.

[II] GET AHEAD;

Criminy, don't just stand there!

[Whoever you are, whatever you're doing, a tall blonde just outright grabs your hand and starts booking it down the road.]

They take the Halloween celebrations just a little too far here!

[III] WILDCARD;

[Want to dance? Want to eat with the owls? Or something else maybe? Hit me up here.]

II

[hornton]

[Well the tall goth kid with the horns is surprisingly stronger than he looks, given that he's a bean pole, so Helga may find herself cut short as she tries to gun it.]

There is no need to be afraid, child of man. This path is ours to walk, this shade is no threat to me, and it would not do to let such rudeness pose an inconvenience.

[Essentially this is about to become a pissing match to see which is the stronger lonelier monster, but hey, easy walk back maybe?]

Ash Starmer | Black Mirror

[subroutined]

01. fields of gold...

[ Loads of people know the question, posed by Philip K. Dick, "do androids dream of electric sheep?" Most people aren't expecting an answer, but in this case, there actually is one.

Ash dreamt not of electric sheep, but of a fox. A very real, very ethereal fox who found him in Martha's attic, and lured him away with a promise to show him who he could be. He's never dreamed before, so the fact that this dream found its way into his memory is something rather remarkable.

He boots on in a field. The field is empty, save for him, or at least, it looks that way. There's music playing in the distance, but it doesn't occur to Ash to follow it to its source. Instead, he just stands in the field, uncannily still, mentally reeling with the fact that he knows he's beyond his preprogrammed distance limits, farther from his activation point than he's ever been. So far that he can't even register where he is on his internal GPS. He has no maps for this place. He's always been able to pinpoint his body's exact latitude and longitude, but... he can't now. He gets an error every time he tries.

He's... unmoored. Let loose. Granted freedom, and absolutely no clue what to do with it.

The idea is so distracting that he doesn't notice anyone else in the field until they've walked into his field of vision. At which point he blinks, and his eerily neutral expression springs to life with a casual, friendly smile. ]

Oh. Hello. Was I standing here long? ...Bet I looked like a right idiot.

02. you've got tricks...

[ The giant pumpkin-headed figure is a fair bit intimidating, but Ash doesn't let any trepidation show outwardly. When selected to choose between a trick or a treat, he laughs a bit too brightly, and quickly says, ] It's always more fun to say trick, isn't it?

[ With that, a tray is brought forth, with drinks set upon it. Ash makes a sheepish grimace and stammers a bit. ]

Oh, I don't— I mean, I can, if you want me to. But it'll be a bit of a mess.

[ Any liquid he ingests has to come back out again, and not in the usual way. He tried drinking with Martha, once, but after the sight of him awkwardly purging the wine she'd given him, she'd never asked him to do it again. ]

03. folkmore online...

un: ash_2.0

These relics are a bit odd, aren't they? I haven't used a game console like this in ages.

[ He's never actually used a game console, but that's neither here nor there. ]

Anyway, hi. I'm Ash.
I've just got a question, and this seemed like the easiest way to ask.
Is everything the fox said true? That bit about "our potential" and all that?
It seems maybe a little too good to be true, but I'm not sure how else to explain any of this.

00. wildcard...

[ If you want something else with Ash, feel free to HMU @ millennialfalcon / ©hris#1234 to plot something! I'll match prose or brackets, whichever you're more comfortable with. ]

UN: LaciePound_2

[minordings]

( she can't appreciate these relics as more than a retro chic aesthetic from somebody's instagram page, but maybe someone can teach her the joys of gaming. )

Hi! Lacie Pound here! Also suuuuper new, LOL! F4F?

( it might be nice if lacie had more potential beyond being a clout chasing mega-loser. she's not sure if she believes it, but she wants to. )

You don't think it's true? That everyone has potential in their own way?

( too far? is she telegraphing too hard? backtrack, backtrack, backtrack! )

Too philosophical for this early in the morning?
I haven't even had my coffee!
Haha!

red ⚡️ pokemon sun/moon gameverse

[thunderbolting]

HARVEST / TREAT.

<sub>[ A. The arrival here was particularly strange but not completely out of expectation for Red. He’s nearly thirty now, but he still carries that flighty behavior when pursuing an ambition of some kind, leaving others behind carelessly. Chasing Thirteen who seemed to him as a talking Pokémon of unknown origin fit the bill for him. Now, he’s in some strange world and the familiar balls at his belt are missing, so that has already put him in a foul mood, thick eyebrows drawn together sternly. As he walks towards what appears to be a party of some sort, his footsteps are heavy and an intimidating aura radiates from him. These dancing people are also creatures he believes to be Pokémon, so what does a trainer do when there’s a Pokémon and no Pokéballs on hand? Rocks. You use rocks. Wordlessly, Red crouches down and picks up what seems to be nearby rocks, chucking them at the vegetable people. Maybe he accidentally hits you. Maybe you want to put a stop to whatever is happening. It’s up to you.

B. He’s found himself at this party and he’s carving a pumpkin. Whoever is sitting next to him might see he is very determined to make the carving perfect; everything was a competition for him. When he’s finished, he turns to whoever is sitting next to him and shows off his masterpiece, his face carrying and unreadable expression but his right posture might indicate that he is proud of his work.

C. Red hasn’t said anything this entire time, but when he is asked whether he wants a trick or a treat, anyone who is close enough to him might hear a meek and quiet voice say “treat.” The item he receives is something he hasn’t thought about in years, and by now, it’s probably an obsolete item of technology. As he holds it and analyzed it, his lips part as he speaks again: ]</sub>

Silph Scope.

_{[ It’s an odd looking thing but as soon as he has it, all those old memories start flooding back in his nostalgic mind. All the Rocket members he has to fight. That seemed so long ago. ]}

GET AHEAD.

<sub>[ He isn’t sure why he stayed to hear a ghost story when stuff like that didn’t scare him anymore and he also doesn’t really like socializing anyway. Still, he has acquired some kind of company to walk with him. The trainer was tall, now, just over six feet and had bulked up from muscle after traveling to region and region, collecting little monsters on his own little journey for almost two decades now. Maybe he feels he could be useful to this person in case they were spooked. Maybe he is trying to befriend this person. Maybe he is hoping this other person goes the opposite way. Nobody knows cause he never talks.

As they walk down the winding road, though, he hears something and instinctively settles his arm out to stop his company from walking, pausing even his breathing to try and hear what could be up ahead down this spooky path. ]</sub>

…

C

[meanlook]

[ The moment Silver had gotten whatever his 'treat' was, it had been stuffed away into his pocket with a quickness. Sentimentality was for feebleminded fools, and he'd discard it the moment he was alone.

The quiet voice catches his attention. To be more precise, the words said are what catches it. He knew of the Silph Scope, and in this bizarre world he had yet to encounter anything that even remotely reminded him of his own. The familiar word is quickly forgotten when he registers the person who said it, his eyes widening as a cold shock of a feeling cuts through him.

In a flash he's on the other, in his personal space and not caring that he's outsized by a considerable margin. ]

You ... you're ...

[ But, he pauses, suddenly the determination that had energized him before snuffed out. It is, without question, the person who had caused the ruination of Team Rocket in Kanto three years before ... but ... ]

... old.

[ His expression becomes some combination of confused and disgusted. What was going on? Red in his timeline was in his teens, still quite young and rumored to be hidden away like a hermit in Mt. Silver. The shock makes him take a few steps back, the hand that had been reaching for one of his Pokeballs stilled. ]

Sarah Williams | Return to Labyrinth | Familiar or Legend

[notimefordreams]

[I] WHAT A WONDERFUL HARVEST;

[It's been years and years since Sarah had much of anything to do with Halloween beyond decorating her classroom or the obligatory class party. She'd went to a Halloween party maybe once or twice since college but had never had the drive or creativity to dress up. Apparently the side of her that had loved the spooky season has gone with Moppet as well.

This were different now though. She had followed the music to here, at first just peering in at all the dancing people around the huge Jack-O-Lantern. Then she couldn't help but smile, her voice wistful.]

Looks like fun actually.

[II] "TREAT";

[Most sane people out there would get more than a little scared by the pumpkin king. Sarah though? She actually grins at the deep voice and the question.]

Treat. I like to think I'm smart enough not to accept tricks from those that aren't human.

[Finally, she should say. Goodness knew she had taken her fair share of offers from tricksters she really shouldn't trust more than once. The last time it ended with her unable to feel any real passion about her life for years and years.

Though once she digs in the basket she's given she has to wonder if this really is a treat when her hand hits a very familiarly shaped object. She's pretty firmly convinced this is a trick as much as a treat once she draws that battered little red book out of the basket too.

With a light sigh she turns the book over in her hands, tracing the gold lettering with the pad of one of her fingers. "The Labyrinth", it reads.]

[III] GET AHEAD;

[Sarah is well out of breath by this point. She hasn't had to run like this since that trip of hers through to Labyrinth, not even when she was late to class in college. She stops to lean on a nearby tree, trying to catch her breath through the slight stitch in her side. Whoever is with her is treated to her out of breath talk as she tries to push her hair out of her face.]

Okay. So ... this is just a different headless horseman story. A variation. And the headless horseman is more or less a dullahan, isn't he?

[She looks over to her companion here like they'll have an answer to that question. Do they?]

[IV] WILDCARD;

[Want to dance? Get a snack with the owls? Maybe you picked 'trick' and need someone to buddy up to? Hit me up!]

[II] "TREAT"

[rememoror]

[ Thena had watched the interaction with just the vaguest hint of curiosity on her face. It had to take courage for a human to meet a thing such as the pumpkin king with such a grin. Humans always had a way of finding ways to impress her though, sometimes for the bad and sometimes for the good. Today it was for the good.

The sigh is noted as Sarah takes out the book and Thena approaches with a few graceful steps. ]

Smart enough to not accept tricks and yet disappointed by your treat? Was it that bad of a book?

Sylvain Jose Gautier | FE3H

[laidtocrest]

1. Treat???

[Sylvain had laughed when he pulled out the letter...in the oh fuck me, I can't believe this is haunting me sort of way, not in a good, positive way. This wasn't a happy laugh of joy. This was a very rueful, self-aware laugh.

And normally, that would be that and he'd burn the letter and go get some cider. But, you know, sometimes, when you see a relic from your love life from five years ago, when you were young and stupid (not that he wasn't young or stupid still, but it was a different sort of young and stupid) you feel the need to share it with people.

It's like bad poetry written when you were 14. Sometimes you burnt it to the ground, and sometimes you read it out loud and wept for the idiot you were. So.]

Have you ever had a really bad ex? [Ominous statements that preclude disaster.]

2. A completely innocent night walk nothing to see here (Get Ahead)

[Anyway, Sylvain's walking with someone else because he has no idea where the fuck he's going, and they might have gone in a circle because he just got pulled into a jamjar, and nobody gave him a proper map with directions. He's new here. Fuck if he knows where he's going.

So, they're walking together and bumblefucking their way into the darkness. Stomping across dirt and twigs. Very nature. Maybe making some tepid smalltalk?]

Huh.

[Because.]

There's something in the ditch.

[It's almost as if this is the prelude to something - the air definitely has that kind of feeling to it - but...surely not.]

3. Odds Bodkins

[And without fanfare, he's sitting next to you to maybe grab a cookie from a plate, maybe have a drink, maybe grab a bandage that you're near.]

You ever have a nice night and then get jumped by a pack of dogs? [Hi.]

4. wildcard?

[Or just surprise me. I'll match prose or brackets, ain't picky on which, shoot me a PM if you want plotting 'cause I can also write you a different starter if you got any requests.]

3.

[deathrespect]

Dogs? Naw.

( Bakeneko, yes. )

Not before this shitshow, anyway.

( He's reaching for a cup of cider, but he's pulling a bit of a face about it. Like he doesn't want it, but still has to choke it down. )

That a common thing for you?

kay of isca ( guardians of camelot )

[isca]

GOLD WAS THE COLOUR
treat
[ despite his upbringing as a lord's son, kay is no stranger to hard work. he'd been handed off to the king at such a young age, after all, and in the fifteen centuries since, he's gone many places and been many people. so when the locals need help with the harvest, kay sets aside his confusion and disturbance about finding himself here and sets to work.

when everything stops and he's offered a choice, kay has a brief moment to think that this is all a very bad idea, but the unsealed letter he pulls out of the basket is.. familiar. he knows the handwriting, though it's been fifteen-hundred years since he's seen it. ]

From my father, [ he finds the words leaving his mouth, entirely against his will, and realizes with some hysteria that he's lied. he hadn't been his father, had he? he'd always known he was a disappointing, desperate last option for the man who'd adopted and passed him off as his own child, but now he knows exactly where he'd come from.

his fingers are trembling as they tighten around the paper. ] .. Making certain I didn't shame him. [ he inhales sharply. where is this coming from? ] How did they get this letter? It shouldn't exist any longer.


HELL WAS THE JOURNEY
get ahead
[ if he was alone, he'd meet the horseman head on, with or without a weapon. but he's not alone, there's someone else with him, and he won't be responsible for their death. so he turns, pale-faced, and grabs the stranger around the forearm, urging them forward. ]

You need to run, I don't have my sword.

odds bodkins
[ there's blood on kay's shirt, but.. he doesn't seem to be injured? he also has a medical kit in his hands, and a small, encouraging smile on his mouth as he spots someone struggling with their own injury. ]

I know that I look a bit young, but I can help you with that if you need it? [ he's tried to keep up with medical advances in recent centuries, and has often been the one providing medical care among the knights. ]

[ ooc; some info! as a quick note, he does look 17 and sounds vaguely german. ]

get ahead

[overnightoaks]

[ The storytelling was a nice way for Henry to ease back into life in Folkmore, but of course it was too good to be true. He should know by now to expect something like this to happen, but... Oh well.

Still, when the young man walking with him tries to get him to run...? He's not about that. ]

Nuh-uh, I'm not going to leave you here. Just stand back, alright?

[ He rolls up his sleeves and starts to cast Entangle, a staticky halo flickering into life around his head as vines spring up from the ground and wrap themselves around the horseman's steed's legs. ]

Bii | To Catch A Falling Star | Myth

[once_bitten_twice_shy]

..::|| Treat - CW: Suicide, murder, abuse ||::..

For a moment, Bii has to wonder if he's magically gone back in time. The farmlands seem so much like his home, if only for a moment. And he willingly takes it all in for a bit. Sure, it's vastly different to the living situation he was just in with the city lights everywhere. But this... it's just so nostalgic. Even if it stings just a little.

He can hear little pieces of a tune that sound far away, being carried through the fields. He tries to follow the sound only to find people dressed in strange costumes. The music sounds odd, too. And what's with the massive pumpkin with a face in the middle? Bii continues to wander around, his confusion growing. Until he's aware that, all of a sudden, the music has stopped. He looks around. Did that Jack O'Lantern move? It's... looking at him.

Bii gives an unsettled frown. This isn't like any dream he's ever had. Just what is going on?

Trick or treat? it asks him. For a moment he wonders just how he's supposed to answer, when he mentally decides that he definitely doesn't want any tricks (this place is more than enough, thank you). So he inevitably asks for:

"Treat." Though he says it with a sternness he didn't realise he was using, bracing himself for something else bizarre.

He's given a basket, and he hesitantly reaches a hand on, until something round falls into his hand, and his eyes glimmer with recognition before he can even pull it out. It's an orb, the size of one's hand, and Bii can't help but give a dumbfounded stare as he pulls it close.

"My roundlet," of course, this one's not the real deal. He'll discover that later. But he can't help but feel for just a few moments, he's gotten it back. "You know... I gave this to someone I loved..."

The smile on his face turns bittersweet, as the memory flows back.


..::|| Get Ahead ||::..

Bii was walking home. But after those ghost stories, he finds it particularly difficult not to look behind him from time to time, wide-eyed, with his fox ears perked up, trying to take in every sound. Every step is uneasy, but at least it's one step closer to being safe indoors. Then he can sleep off this dread he has. Despite that the storyteller insisted it was true, he tries to push it out of his mind.

"Every storyteller says that, to make it more scary!" he says outloud, almost desperate. Desperate to believe his own words. Desperate to believe he'll get home safely. But he still can't shake this feeling.

And when he hears a howl, he jolts, quick to turn on his heel and look. And his eyes grow even wider, the fear drops his stomach low. The hounds, and the horseman, are there. How can it be? He hesitates for a moment, before turning and dashing as fast as he can.

"I need to find water!"

He runs fast, in his human form, and it's dark, which brings him to the unfortunate mishap of not seeing the sword that trips him. He stumbles to the ground and hisses as he grabs his leg. Is it bleeding? He's not sure. But then one of the dogs launches at him and Bii lets out a scream. Someone please help him! He has no idea what to do!


..::|| Odds Bodkins ||::..

Bii limps into the campsite, and he can't help a sour frown.

Great. More strange beings. At least they're just... owls? Either way, that food looks delicious, and there's even a first aid table. In the bonfire light, he manages to get a better look at his leg and... it does appear to be bleeding. Shoot, he hopes the injury isn't too bad.

Bii hobbles to the table and plops himself on the ground, trying to tear away at his pant leg to get a better look at his leg. And he can't help but sigh. All of the outfits Yoosung bought for him are still at home. And a lot of the clothes in that world were strange enough. He hopes he can find ones similar to hanbok here.

One may find him struggling to keep his torn clothes away from the injury long enough to clean it properly, and Bii is getting a little frustrated. And he has to fight back tears.

"I just want to go home..."

That's what he's wanted since he came out into the modern era. Though what home does he want to return to, now? Geumgang? Yoosung? He's not sure anymore. He's not sure he likes it here, either.

number one ► star trek

[unas]

► gold was the colour

( she'd gone with a treat, not trusting what the trick might be, though when una had dug her hand into the basket she'd expected something silly. the idea of trick or treat and the whole season it went with was pretty unknown to her, a little strange which she expected the contents of the basket to be.

instead, when una's hand comes back out, there's an envelope in it, with something much closer to home in it. opening it she finds a photograph, a night sky with a clear star pattern on it, a constellation. though, unlike una who does recognise it, no one else would or should -- it's one seen from her planet, somewhere far from earth, somewhere not visited by the federation either.

though when the person beside her looks in on it-- ) It's the first constellation that I learned.

( it's easier to keep it general, to try and distance herself from the memory and stick to facts. so she tries )

► hell was the journey

We should move.

( she'd opted to walk with someone, to feel a little safer in an unknown location, though when the howling had started it had sent a strange chill through her. una had started to usher them on, prepared to run behind them to make sure they were going. staying and fighting did not seem like the tactically smart option.

though if the other person does stand their ground instead of running? she'll look around to find something that might be useful to distract them with )

Gold Was the Color

[ponygirl]

From your home planet?

[ She might want to stay general, but Chris doesn't. He cares about Una and while it hadn't been safe for him to ask her about these things on the Enterprise, here there is much less risk.

His own treat is an old photograph of a pony and he's just going to tuck that into his pocket. No questions, right? ]

Takeshi Uesugi | Baku | Legend

[underwinginmydreams]

..::|| Trick ||::..

Boy, oh boy, this sure feels like a field trip! Seeing all the farmland and getting to wander around it all. Only difference is that there isn't exactly a buddy system or chaperones. But still... at least it's something. Takeshi decides to go ahead and take in the sights. And he begins to hear some music. He hadn't exactly chosen to follow it, per se, it just happened to be the way he was going anyway. And so, he ends up stumbling acrost the Pumpkin People.

"Whoa. That's cool. Never seen a halloween party like this back home."

He cracks a smile, heading towards the dancing group to get a better look at the Jack O Lantern. Very cool. He decides to help out by carving some pumpkins and even drinks some cidre in between. This is nice. He's not having as much fun as he could have, but it's nice.

And... that's when he notices the dancers have stopped. Huh. Over so soon?

And then the Pumpkin King is in his face and he drops his cidre. He's having a hard time believing this is just some costume at this point, but...

"Uhh... yea, sure... gimme a trick."

He's game. Oddly terrifying as this is. After a few moments, one of the Pumpkin Peeps brings him more cidre and tells him to pick his poison. Wait, do they mean that literally? He glances at the Pumpkin King, the Pumpkin Person holding out the drinks to him. And gives half a shrug.

"Yea, okay. Whatever, right?"

He grabs one and downs it as fast as he can. (Look, he's just trying to prove it's not poison, okay? This is fine.) And it takes a moment, but he doesn't feel any worse for wear.

In fact, he feels decently good. And social. Something he hasn't felt in years. And he's not sure why. Was it the drink after all?

You might find that he plops over next to you.

"Hey, yo! What's up? Do parties like this happen often? I think I like it."


..::|| Get Ahead ||::..

Ghost stories are fun. Takeshi hasn't heard one of these in a while. So he gets something warm to drink and huddles himself in next to someone. Spooky stories are interesting, and he finds it funny that people are so easily spooked by these things. They're all fairy tales. he doesn't care where he is.

But still, at the end of it, he's still feeling social from the drink from earlier. So when it's time to go home, he turns to you.

"Crazy story, huh? Do you believe in that kind of stuff?" It's not condescending, but he is feeling playful. "Need a walk-home buddy?"

Esteban | OC | OTA (CW: mood-altering substances, minor wounds)

[crowneddragon]

..:: I - A trickster's apple cider ::.. (CW: Mood-altering substances)
[OOC: let me know which person should get tricked! Esteban, or his newfound friend?]
It's just apple cider.

There's a bit of disappointment in the half-elf when he finishes his drink, the fuzziness of it tingling on his tongue still. It's just apple cider, but that won't stop Esteban from participating anyways. Five glasses are down to four, and Esteban waves the nearest person over, playful and amused. If the trick didn't befall on him-- maybe they will fall to it.

"Drink with me?" he offers casually with a grin and a wink. He's way too used to get into drinking contests like this; it doesn't even occur to him that the poison in question might be literal.

..:: II - Dancing along to the drums and strings ::..
Festivals have always meant dancing for the half-elf, and it doesn't take him long before he is near a clearly lit cobbled floor, the stones smooth and free of dust and grime. He's more than happy to toss aside the heavy toed boots that he's disliked ever since he got them, and step lightly along to the floor.

There's a strange music, not one familiar to the redhead; but he recognizes a beat that he can follow, and he is more than happy to grab an unwary person near him in order to pull them out to the floor as well. The drums are large and make a low rumbling tone that is followed by the numerous instruments, plucked strings and flutes that make deeper sounds than Esteban has ever heard.

"Dance with me!" he encourages, and he offers both his hands to the person he's just snatched up from the outskirts of the floor, ready to lead them into a festival dance he's learned since he was a small child.

..:: III - Tall tales to tell ::..
Oh, he is having a grand time!

Chills run along his spine as he wraps both large hands around the clay mug between them, something warm and spicy sparkling down when he swallows it. It's not quite a familiar festival to Esteban himself, but he's enjoying it thoroughly, from the spicy snacks that are on offer, as well as the stories that get shared over a crackling flame.

When his turn comes around, his eyes shimmer with the toothiness of his grin, and Esteban sets the mug aside, so that he can use both hands to gesture as he starts his tale.

"List'n to the wind. List'n to the stars," he begins, as always, as ever. "They have stories t' tell."

He tells the tale of an Imprisoned God, living at the top of a tower in a far away land. He up plays the shadows in his myth; of the fickle god that creates jewels when he's bored, and snatches the beauty of any being that offends him. That he even steals lives. And that there is no reasoning with him.

He wraps his tale with a new grin again, mischief darting along with his glance as he takes back his mug and snatches a new one up to pass to a nearby companion, all laughter and cheeky smiles.

"How 'bout you? Got a nice spooky one to tell?" he invites openly, always curious as he is to the tales of others.

He might also take anyone who seems to be more hesitant aside, bring them closer to the fire with a warm drink and a soft "hey. You okay?" just to check in with them.

..:: IV - Safer near the fire ::.. (CW: Minor wounds and bruises)
He's winded when he settles on one of the cushions near the sputtering flames, breath rushing through his lungs, and he focuses simply on breathing for a moment, ignoring the aches and the pull at some of his bruises. Alright, so that had not gone as well as he'd have liked. Both hands rise to shuffle through his red hair, fluffing the strands and cooling him just a bit down before he turns.

He nearly jumps out of his skin to find someone else there, blue eyes wide and mouth dropping open in a clear "oh!" that hoots across the quiet grounds louder than he'd meant. He flinches, startled by himself, before a snicker rattles though his breezy lungs and he huffs a greeting.

"Hey there! Hadn't noticed you. D'you have som' water near? I'm parched," he adds, scrambling to bounce back from his surprise.

..:: V - Wildcards! ::..
[OOC: Esteban will always roll with wildcards! Let me know what you'd like to do!]

II

[dragondisguised]

Madeline has really been living the evening up to be honest. This was the first time in more than a few weeks that she had actually felt comfortable in her own newish skin. The little pumpkins were terribly cute not to mention the other costumes and she had been pleasantly content to watching the dancing from the outskirts.

... Well, until she was pulled away from the outskirts. She makes a surprised sound, something like a trill as her clawed feet stumble a bit. A fluster pops up quickly on her cheeks and along the length of her ears but she does laugh a little once actually encouraged to dance.

"You sure? I'm still getting used to this." Mostly the feet, somewhat the tail that undulates behind her. She still trips over it now and then, though she's getting better.

"Emperor Belos" | The Owl House | MYTH

[servinghunt]

↬ gold was the color

[ No stranger to arriving -- and even being in -- a strange place, was not an unknown experience for the man, covered from neck to toe in robes, gloves, and anything else that would prevent anything other than his wizened face to be seen -- green scar splitting his face, and all. Mind, that face doesn't look...charmed, or amused by most of this. Teeth clenched, almost grinding, solitary observation seems to be the way this certain elderly gentleman wants to engage with the activity.

Do his eyes narrow? The long robes don't give much away, but there may be an indication that a gloved fist tightens, and things are fine, up until all the Halloween-esque celebrations stop, and the tall creature loomed over him.

Belos looks up, but doesn't shrink back, and despite his...opinions on Halloween, the Boiling Isles has rubbed any outward display of disgust down to near-nothing. The man who'd once called himself Emperor looked up at the Pumpkin King with the eye of an equal, before he stated. ]

If I must pick one, I'd prefer you show me your tricks sooner, rather than later.

[ One of the... creatures trod up, with a tray of drinks. He looked down on him, his eyes narrowed, before he picked one up. He tipped it toward the Pumpkin King, as if in toast...

And then proceeded to pour the cider on the ground. After all, he'd called it poison. He may just be taking it literally. ]

↬ hell was the journey (cw: some violence toward the hounds)

ⓐ [ Some people, whose name rhymes with Zelos, aren't exactly...friendly with the locals. While there's certainly no violence, and certainly nothing to quite say that he's doing anything wrong, invitations are met with a snide, but polite declination, however forced. Belos should, of course, probably play along, and get what he needs from them, but he'd gotten what he needed in the Boiling Isles from research, and from reading. Not from talking to people, and he certainly wasn't about to change that now.

Unfortunate, then, that he strode through the night like there was nothing to fear for him. He'd moved through the forests of the New World, and explored the worst that the Boiling Isles had to offer, and Belos felt no fear of the dark, or the unknown. No, perhaps hatred, or disgust, but not fear. The sound of dogs catches his ears first, and while it's an unusual sound to him these days, he remembered the hounds they had used in his earlier years in the Human Realm. He doesn't think they are after him, until they're closer. The snarling, snapping jaws of the beasts -- once close -- is enough to force Belos into a run. Without his staff, he can't simply fly or teleport, and his glyphs...

He stumbled, over a log, and fell to the ground.

Breathing hard, his eyes narrow, but without a Palisman to consume, it will be difficult to reign in his condition. Breathing hard, he tried to scramble to his feet -- a kick toward one of the dogs -- before he tried to get some more distance, lest the dogs bring out the...worst in him. ]

ⓑ[ He's made it a little further, the hounds still on his ankles, before he skidded to a halt, at the sight.

See, Belos had done himself a disservice, by denying the party with the locals. He has never seen something like this one before -- or exactly this -- because the Legend of Sleepy Hollow was written in the Human realm in 1820, around two-hundred years after Philip Wittebane had fallen through to the Demon Realm, and had found himself trapped in the Demon Realm. While he'd seen plenty of demons, large and small, horrifying and mundane, he'd never seen this particular creature, and had no context for what this was. He hissed, when he stopped, and looked up at the thing.

The problem was... he couldn't exactly fight this alone, could he?

Could he? His options were to either stay and fight -- eradicate this beast -- or turn tail and run. The river was still in the distance, but he thought he could run to it, but crossing would be... difficult. He could take his glove off, and use one of his glyphs, of course, but... that had consequences. Once he didn't have a solution for at the moment. He would have to, he thought, but his eyes lit on the weapons in a ditch, and he moved for them -- maybe there would be something of use? Or maybe he'd find he isn't alone? Either way, a robed man scrambled into it, a curse on his lips, as he skidded to a halt, and started looking for something to use. ]

↬ Odds Bodkins

[ Somehow, Belos is free of the...Headless Rider, he decided to call it. A few cuts and scrapes, but he's whole, and not... shaped wrong at the moment. It's a relief, given the stops he'd eventually had to pull out, to make it out whole, but he was there, at the bonfire. He stared at it with an intensity that said that he was Very much displeased with how the events of the past day had gone. Insulted, infuriated, the clench to his jaw is tight and set.

It's so much like the demon realm, but softer. Like a veneer had been wiped over the hard edges to hide them, and Belos hated it, just as much as he did anywhere else that wasn't the Human Realm. Insulting, that the damnable Fox had led him so far from his castle, and so close to the Day of Unity, too. He will raise his head, with something of a sharp look, as soon as any approach, and watch warily, looking for signs of...well. You guessed it. Magic. Hypocrite, is he. ]

↬ Wildcard!
[ Hit me up with whatever! Want to plot something? hit me up on Plurk at hundreds! ]

hell was the journey - A

[goldenscarred]

[Whether Belos will be irritated or relieved, there's an easily recognized (and annoying) voice that calls out for him the moment he catches himself on all fours.]

Belos!

[The hounds, not threatened by Belos' inadequate kick, continue to pursue in his direction. Fortunately, Hunter's fast— even without magic— and intervenes as the hound leaps toward Belos. He swings at one with a long, wooden object; it dissipates into that black smoke, but it was only the first of many, and there's no time to waste.

A rifle might be recognized easily in Belos' eyes, but to Hunter, a gun is just a very weird stick, which he awkwardly wields with both hands, holding onto the metal barrel, and using the stock as a blunt object.]

We need to go!

Shikeo | Trace: Perfume | Familiar

[lostwithinatrace]

((OOC: Shikeo has an unfortunate side effect that he cannot control in which his body releases an enticing scent that causes people to want to seduce him. You can read more in his permissions. There are a few ways around it, such as smoking cigarettes and other strong smells. Alternatively, he will lose this scent ability in his cat form. If you want to find other work arounds, please pm this account or Tseil. Alternatively, because of this ability, I do welcome NSFW situations. Thank you for you understanding!))

..::|| Treat ||::..

Sure, Shikeo was told all about what was going on when he was brough here.

...But that doesn't mean he's properly processed it yet. He's taken to wandering around, but he's not really noticing where he's going, except to keep himself from accidentally coming acrost the same place twice as he looks for Dambi and Timber, hoping that maybe somehow they came along with him.

But then, maybe this place is just as dangerous; maybe his smell will still cause problems for those around him. His keeping himself bundled in a few coats, and keeping his distance from others, to try and mitigate it as best as he can. Still, he searches for them. He has to do his best to be sure.

Coming acrost the Pumpkin People, he... has no idea what to do here. But they have some nice things. Maybe someone's seen his friends. And he asks a few of the residents.

Until the Pumpkin King is leaning into his space and he takes a few scrambled steps back. (Hopefully he doesn't crash into you in the process.) Does his scent affect these kinds of... uhm... things? What is that Jack O Lantern, specifically?

"U-uhm... T-treat!"

Why is he answering this thing? Oh, well, maybe he can get something sweet for Dambi.

The basket is brought to him and he carefully reaches a hand in, watching the people holding it to make sure they don't behave wierd. And then he pulls out a little cloth bag.

Oh. That's right.

"Dambi threw this on the ground before she ran away." He frowns a bit, taking out a shattered hourglass pendant before looking at you. "Why do you think it looks like mine?"

He pulls the necklace out from beneath the layers of jackets and holds them side by side for comparison.


..::|| Get Ahead ||::..

Ghost stories kind of give him the creeps. It's bad enough they have Troubles back at home. He wonders if the headless horseman could really be real here, or if it's just some story. He frowns. He sure hopes it's not real. He's not strong enough to defend himself against something like that.

(A.) He approaches you, keeping his distance.

"Uhm... excuse me. If I... turned into a cat, do you think we could walk home together?" And... he's not sure what he's doing. What if he's putting this poor person in danger just because he doesn't want to be alone right now? Then what will he do?

Heck, he's not even sure they live in the same area. He can't help a frown. He must be stupid.

(B.) He decides to brave it. Either way, he's got to get home. Even if he turns into a cat, he can't very well sleep outside (and besides. With stories like that, why would he even want to?) It's with a gulp that he finally starts making the steps home.

And then he hears the dogs, and he doesn't want to turn around. He goes stiff, paralysed for a moment before he braves a glance over his shoulder, and... yep, that sure seems to be the headless horseman from the story. Just his luck. But he's not going to question it; he's going to bolt instead.

He stumbles over something off the path, scrambling as he manages to keep his balance well enough. He glances back at it (as if he has time to be looking back at what tripped him. He feels so dumb); is that... A sword?

He glances back at the dogs, and they are certainly gaining closer. And there's a lot more than he could hope to outrun, or even fight.

A struggling split-second of decision and he grabs the sword, swinging it with absolutely zero skill.

"Stay back!" he yells as he tries to hit one of the dogs.


..::|| Odds Bodkins ||::..

It's been a long night, and he had much more expected that he would have been home by now. This is a new kind of Hell. He gives a sigh as he walks into the light of the bonfire, finding a bunch of owls beckoning to him. And there's some refreshments on a table nearby.

You'll find a calico cat sitting among them, his tail flicking gently from side to side as he watches the fire. He's managed somehow to get a warm drink and some cookies set next to him and he dips his tongue into it. As he hears your footsteps, he'll look at your direction, uncertain of what to expect of you. This place has been so weird already.

"H... hello," he tries, offering a small bit of conversation.


..::|| Wildcard ||::..

[Got an idea? Want more opportunities to interact with his cat form? Feel free to write whatever you like for your own starter, or ping me (see contact details up top) for me to write a toplevel for you. I'm always happy to write one.]

Odds Bodkins

[redprayer]

[[Picking the option where Shikeo’s a cat so we don’t immediately have to deal with the logistics of Shikeo’s pheromones. ftr I’m okay with Rezo being affected by it as long as it isn’t an uncontrollable desire- it’s also plausible that Rezo would have magic to defend against it that he could activate once he realized what was going on.]]

Shikeo is being approached unintentionally by a tall, horned man in red robes, carrying a staff that chimes as he walks. He comes to a pause when Shikeo greets him, clearly surprised to hear something speaking to him from around his ankles.

Still, this isn’t Rezo’s first rodeo with a talking ankle-height creature, let alone his first ride on the particular rodeo today, and the blind man is nothing if not courteous. He crouches, putting himself a little closer to Shikeo’s current level.

“Hello,” he says, returning the greeting with a gentle smile. “Are you another guest at this bonfire?”

He supposes this person might be another owl, but since they haven’t hooted at him as of yet, he’s leaning towards not.

Noah | Pure Blood | Legend

[windbeneathmywings]

..::|| Trick ||::..

Noah hates it here. He can't sense Leon, Ran, Ren, or Lindsay.

...Which means that none of them are nearby, or even worse, they're not here.

He's been lowkey trying not to lose his mind since he got here. He's supposed to protect his family! What's Leon going to do when he needs blood and Noah isn't there?! Will he lose all control? Will all Hell break lose?!

Breathe, Noah. Breathe.

He takes a few deep breaths. ...He still hates this. He finds himself scrambling from place to place to try and keep his mind off of it, trying to tell himself they'll be fine. But... he doesn't buy it. He slumps down in his path, moping. What's he going to do now? He has to go home. What has this Godforsaken Fox done to him?

When he looks up, it's because a voice has asked him trick or treat, and... Holy cow, that sure is a thing right there! Well, at least he's panicking about being startled by some... what is this? A sorcery? Instead of worrying about Leon and his family nonstop. Good job distraction.

"...Trick?" Leon asks, more confused by the Jack O Lantern's question than anything. Still, the Pumpkin People procure a series of ciders for him. He takes one, looks at it. Is it really going to be poisoned? And takes a hesitant sip. When nothing happens, he braves more of the drink, and... he's fine?

That's a relief. Maybe a trick was just to tease him. He supposes there are worse things.

And then the effects start to kick in. Huh. Y'know, maybe he could stand to talk to someone to keep his mind off of things. The dancing the Pumpkin People are doing sure looks fun. He heads over to you first, though, holding out his hand with a smile.

"Hey. Do you want to dance?"


..::|| Get Ahead ||::..

He regrets listening to that scary story. So much. Why did he sit down for it? And now he's stuck struggling over if it's just some ghost story or if sorceries run rampant around here.

Whatever. He's going home. And hopefully he can walk faster than this dread can keep him. He just wants to hide where no one can see him for a while. This predicament really is the worst.

Except that it can only get worse. The dogs are the first clue. He looks to see the horseman amidst them. Not just a story, huh? That's... really unfortunate.

"H-hey. Can't we just talk this out?"

What are you doing, stupid? He clearly has no head! How is he going to hear you?!

He gives a nervous laugh.

"Yea, on second thought..."

At least Leon and the others aren't here to suffer this mess. Which means they can't get hurt.

What was said in that story again for defeating this?

A river! He has to find a river!

Except he's dumb enough to glance back over his shoulder as he runs and might have, unfortunately or otherwise, crashed full speed into you.

"OW!" Holy crap, he doesn't have time for this. "What are you doing?! Run!!"

He doesn't mean it to be as bossy as it sounds, but this is not the time for apologies and formalities.

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

Well, ow. Orym is small enough, being a halfling of just over three feet, that he may have been more of a speedbump in Noah's way than anything else, but he at least managed to keep his feet.

And managed to keep a hold on the sword he's recently pulled out from the ground.

"I think it's got me beat on speed. But go, I'll see if I can hold them off or at least slow them down!"

Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic) | My Hero Academia | Familiar

[vociferates]

Wonderful Harvest
↪ CW: None
[It's mostly in a daze that Hizashi has found himself shucking corn, his gaze fixed on the ear he's currently picking the silk off of. It's an absent gesture, his fingers twirling the fiber between them before he discards it into the pile he's made, his eyebrows knit together as if he's concentrating. He's still trying to form coherent lines between what he remembers before arriving here in this weird, tripped-out place, and so far he thinks he's doing a pretty stellar job of not freaking the fuck out.

Something about corn shucking is mood-regulating, who fucking knew? He looks over to the person sitting next to him, or across from him, and pauses, his gaze flicking from them to the giant... big dude and back again. He tosses the cob in his hand up, the vegetable twirling in the air before he catches it and tosses it down on the table again.]

So uh, what do you think's gonna happen with King Pumpkin Guy over there? Kinda weirding me out a little if I'm being honest, yo.

---

...Treat
↪ CW: Death Mention

[Treat just seemed like the smarter of the two choices, Hizashi still mostly reeling from finding himself here. But what he pulls out from that mystery box isn't exactly the happiest of treats. He wouldn't call it a trick either -- maybe just something bitter-sweet. Held between his thumb and his other fingers is a photo taken atop UA's roof, four familiar but years younger faces smiling back at him. He recognizes his OWN face immediately, eyes hidden behind those obnoxious orange shades he still wears a version of with his hero costume.

Then he recognizes Shouta, shaggy hair familiar and in that way grounding. The other two faces, however, stir up those bitter, sad feelings. He exhales a harsh breath that's almost trying to be a laugh. He wants to shove the picture into his pocket, to forget about it and bury the feelings back deep within him where they belong.

But he doesn't. Instead, he strides back over to where others are sitting and once he flops back down into a seated position, he clears his throat, opening his mouth to speak like it's some kind of compulsion. He even offers the picture to whoever it is he's sat next to.]

Kind of a rude picture to call a treat, if you ask me. At least we look happy, yeah?

---

Get Ahead
↪ CW: Blood, Injury, Dog bites

[Hizashi decides today, that he hates ghost stories. They're cool when they're safely make-believe, but this? This is bullshit. At least this kind of thing is something he's at least sort of used to -- the fighting. He lunges out of the way of one of the hounds that seems intent on clamping its large teeth around his arm, his movements practiced. The next move he makes is to shove whoever he wound up out here with towards the side of the road.]

Watch out pal! These guys really aren't fooling AROUND!

[Even though he's still talking to his companion he does his best to turn his body toward one of the other hounds currently in pursuit. That last word is shouted at an inhuman volume, the soundwaves enough to burst the hound into that infuriating black smoke. It's unfortunate that he doesn't have his directional speaker, his voice quirk much harder to direct without the equipment's help.]

Dammit, hey! Yougot any ideas? I don't know if headless up there's really keen on playing long distance fighter for too much longer.

---

Odds Bodkins
↪ CW: Blood, Injury

[In all honesty, this could be worse. He doesn't even mind the owls, and despite his injuries from those damn hounds he lifts a hand to wave at them. Then, he thinks a moment, brows knitting in confusion. They're owls. Why is he waving at them? Maybe he's more tired than he thought he was? Hizashi laughs to himself and shakes his head as he sits down at the table with medical supplies, having found himself here on his own despite whoever he teamed up with to confront the headless Halloween store reject. He's already shrugging out of his leather jacket, taking a moment to mourn the holes in the arm before he gingerly starts to inspect the wound that made it onto his skin.]

Man, next time I wind up in a weird place with magical dust dogs I'm bowing out.

[He hisses as he starts to attempt to bandage the wound on his upper arm -- something he's had to do before despite how awkward it is. He has one end of the bandage in his mouth while he tries to use his other arm to wrap it around his wound, his shirt having been plopped on the table next to him. When he sees someone out of the corner of his eye, or maybe even hears them first, he pauses and offers a grin (still gripping the bandage in his teeth).]

Hey, mind helping a dude out? [Please?]

---

Wildcard
↪ CW: ???

[[Hit me up at kermitkin if none of these work for you or if you want something more custom! Or just hit me with whatever, I'm easy.]]

Odds Bodkins

[overnightoaks]

[ The chance of encountering dangerous monsters seems to rise every time new Star Children start showing up in Folkmore. Even though Henry's spent the better part of the last month in a weird, levitating coma, he's not about to ignore people who need help just because he's still getting his bearings on consciousness again. That wouldn't be very Legendary of him.

So he's there, with the owls, trying to help patch up the people who've been attacked. He looks up from a conversation with one of the owls when he's called, hooting a small apology to the bird before he hurries over to the blond man's bedside. ]

Sure, pal, just hold still!

[ Instead of reaching for the other end of the bandage, Henry holds his palm over the wound, as a warm light starts glowing from his hand. ]

I'll just cast a little Healing Word... And the word today is... Welcome!

aziraphale ◈ good omens ◈ ota

[benedicus]

What a Wonderful Harvest

( it almost feels like a dream or at least what aziraphale imagines dreaming to be like, to be standing in the middle of acres and acres of vast farmland. how nostalgic.

or it would be if he hadn't found himself stranded here. he'd tried to leave as soon as he had gathered his wits about him, ready to spend the remainder of his day getting wine-drunk in the back of his shop.

unfortunately, that didn't appear to be in agenda.

he decided he would settle for attending the evening's harvest festival and sampling their vast array of various apple and pumpkin ales and ciders. in the spirit of the holiday and all! it'd be rude not to. the same way he thinks it would be rude to decline when a couple of the children ask him to help carve pumpkins. )

When using your knife, carve away from your body.

( he explains from the tree stump that he's sitting on. he leans forward to show the children, patiently sitting on the ground, where he's started the cut for the eye. )

> Treat Selected

( between the two, there is hardly ever any choice at all.

only a fool would neglect to appreciate all the food brought to the festival. or at the very least, a poorly mannered festival attendee.

when his fingers touch something that is definitely not food, aziraphale feels his enthusiasm immediately evaporate.

then his face lights up. )

Oh, oh, oh my! Look at this. My, I haven't seen this in such an age.

( delighted, he turns in his seat to address the person nearest to him. )

Isn't it such a beautiful piece?

( except it's impossible to see from the way he's currently holding it. )

Oddbodkins

( there had almost been an unpleasant encounter. aziraphale had come across something truly nasty along the road. unexpected social interaction. or was it perhaps another element to the festival? it was always hard to keep track of different mortal traditions.

he didn't want to accidentally offend so he had decided that none them should be able to see him, thus they did not.

by the time he reaches the bonfire, someone is already there. )

Good evening. Quite the exciting past couple of hours, don't you think?

( he says politely.

then he pauses. )

Pardon me, but are you alright?

Wildcard

( alternatively, you're welcome to hit me up with your own prompt. no need to contact me, i'll roll w/ it. DMs open if needed. )

Oddbodkins

[shadowsincryo]

[Kaeya looks up from pulling the cork out of the bottle the festive looking owls had helpfully let him have. He spits it out and takes a swig straight from the bottle.

He doesn’t look great but seems unbothered by the gashes on his arms and side.] Oh, you know how it is. Something chases you. You get away but they still get a hit in.

There’s another bottle if you want a drink.

Thena | Eternals (MCU) | OTA!

[rememoror]

I. ( Gold Was the Colour )
A. What a Wonderful Harvest

[ Thena had never been one to join in festivities. While many of the others had mingled among the humans she had always lingered in the back. Now more than ever she found herself less inclined to join in. Despite the peaceful feeling that had washed over her since her arrival in the fields she still had hesitations. There was no danger, at least none that she could sense at the moment. Singing and dancing was still not quite for her. Being a goddess of war did not mean she could not watch though.

Watch she did too. She watched and listened to the merrymaking of the little pumpkin people, occasionally allowing a tiny smile to creep on to her otherwise stoic expression. Only occasionally though. For the most part one might easily mistake her indifference for disinterest. Even as she passes by an area where she one can carve a pumpkin or husk some corn, she still makes no move to join in. Though, she does seem to linger here the longest with a sad smile on her face for just a flash. Sersi would have joined this, she would have probably found this charming.

Eventually she makes it to the apple cider is and it's here she stops as she looks at the drinks. There are memories of mugs like these and she reaches for one in a strangely hesitant manner. ]

B. Treat

[ The moment the dancer's stop Thena is aware. There's a change in atmosphere that's hard for her to miss. She spins around quickly and for just a flash of a second a flickering of a strange gold circle can be seen on her temple. A hand goes up to touch it and the flickering ceases as the pumpkin king leans down, smiling at her. Were it not for the peaceful feelings from her initial arrival things might have gone differently here. Luckily those still lingered as she takes the basket he's offering. With delicate gestures she pulls out something wrapped in a blanket of burnt orange. With no expression of curiosity to show for it she unwraps the gift. Inside is a gun that looks like it came from the 1500s.

Her expression changes from surprise to sadness in the blink of an eye as she runs a gentle hand across the gun. ]

He used it against the kraken.

II. ( Hell Was the Journey )
A. Ghost Stories

[ The stories managed to attract her attention. It's familiar and sometimes familiar is nice. Especially when things can get as confusing as they did for her. Despite her clear interest in the storytelling, she still doesn't precisely approach the group of guests. She listens from the fringes and occasionally shakes her head with just the hint of a smile as a storyteller finishes their tale.

Then comes the story of the hounds and the Horseman.

A challenge. Now that was a story worth taking interest in and she moves a bit closer to the group gathered about as they listen. As another person started to tell their tale, she stayed, intrigued to see if it would be similar at all to the tale of the Horsemen. ]

Not quite the embellishments that Sprite would give such a tale. [ But...interesting enough for a gold star. ]

B. Get Ahead

[ A long time ago she had been told she could not go to fight Deviants alone. She had not listened then and she would not listen now. She went on the road alone, leaving the thought of walking with a companion behind. Through the darkness she wandered with one goal: to find the hounds and their master. Once upon a time she had been the Goddess of War and she was not going to allow her skills to go rusty here. The road became lonely and she found herself slightly disappointed that nothing had happened yet. Until she sensed the hounds. Long before they came into view she felt their existence. Once they had though, she spun to meet them.

The fight that took place was something like a dance. She fought with grace, with flare, and with gold weapons that changed for as she contended with the hounds and the Horseman. The battle is long, without either participant seeming to grow tired. In fact, if one catches a glimpse of Thena's expression they might actually note she looks as though she were having fun. Eventually, things come to something of a standstill as the Horseman gestures to a cache. She arches an eyebrow. ]

A rewards? I need no prize from you aside from victory. [ And perhaps that was not the best thing for one to say.

Maybe someone should tell her that she should just head to the river to rid herself of this thing. Because it certainly didn't seem as though it was actually killable. ]

C. Odds Bodkins

[ There was blood on the flowing long sleeve white shirt Thena had been wearing. Her blood. Though the gashes on her arms from the hounds bites were already starting to knit up. The scowl on her face was more to do with her perceived loss against the Horseman and her ruined shirt than it was to do with any injuries she might have received.

The scowl stayed planted on her face until she noticed the owls. Now that, that brought a smile to her face. She may not have clamed the 'A' in Athena but that hardly meant she didn't still have a fondness for owls. The association from the myth had to have come from somewhere, right? She moved to them with a childlike smile on her face as the hooted and gestured. ]

What funny little hats you have. [ It looked like an illusion Sprite would have cast to amuse children. There was a bittersweet feeling to that thought. Her voice was gentle as she looked to the table laden with drinks and sweets. ]

Are you offering these to us? You have my thanks then. [ Would they understand? Who knows. But she still felt like thanking them. ]

Wonderful Harvest: a;

[morethanatrickster]

[It was seldom Loki found a party he didn't enjoy, and harvest festivities were just as game as any other cause for Asgardian revelrie. It helped, of course, that the Asgardians in general had little to celebrate of late and seeing all the merriment reminded him of simpler times when they were come together to feast after a battle hard fought or something equally good and right, before the truth had come to light and their lives proven to be carefully crafted lies.

Here, at least, he was able to pretend none of it had happened, and the cider helped; so much so, in fact, that he was just arriving for a refill when Thena caught his attention. He was sure she would have done so anywhere with such a striking visage and almost regal bearing.

Still, the Silvertongue didn't hesitate but for a second before addressing the woman, taking up a mug of cider and offering it to her.]

They are for sharing and you're welcome to one. [And he took another for himself.] Cheers.

Crowley | Good Omens | ota

[wilyserpent]

1. What a Wonderful Harvest

[ It's not the weirdest dream he's ever had, but it's certainly up there. He can't remember the last time he had to follow a fox around, maybe sometime in the medieval period? Something about setting it loose in some poor bugger's hen house. Anyway.

Coming across the music had piqued his curiosity, and he was amused at the party goers he found there. It kind of looked like something out of the medieval period, but badly misinterpreted. Did he come across some kind of weird renaissance festival? He wonders briefly, but then he spots the cider. ]

Oooh, don't mind if I do ...

2. Trick

I always love a good trick, me.

[ He even thinks of a good trick to play on all the party-goers here, getting ready to change forms to do it, when the tray is brought forward and—Oh. They want to give him a trick? ]

Ah. Well, alright, not what I had in mind, but—

[ But he won't turn down another cider. He downs it fast, already having gotten his start with the earlier drinks, not thinking about what exactly this trick might be.

Her certainly doesn't feel it at first, but then he also doesn't mind it when he suddenly feels like ... like dancing. ]

3. Wildcard

( Feel free to hit me up with some other scenario! )

2.

[subroutined]

[ Ash is happy not to have the attention on himself, but when the man who is the center of attention drinks the cider he's been offered, Ash can't help but lean in to have a look. ]

Is it good? [ He's no expert on cider, or any other beverage, but it does look like it might be good. ] Seems you've really lucked out on the "trick."

Zhongli | Genshin Impact | Legend

[brokebitchmountain]

What a wonderful harvest - Treat

[ The familiarities of this harvest festival aren’t lost on him. The golden waves of grain and how they drift in the wind are certainly nostalgic if nothing else. When asked by the large creature Zhongli will have picked treat as his answer. But the object that he receives is none other than a glaze lily straight from Liyue itself. This one has some semblance of importance to him, however, and his amber eyes will widen with surprise. ] This...once belonged to a very dear friend of mine.

Get Ahead

[ The story before the battle, huh? It seems that the Horseman was spoken into existence by the spirit folk of this place. But Zhongli is no mortal and is certainly not afraid of any ghosts, headless or not. He’s fought and defeated countless gods and so when that stretch of road appears before him and whoever his company might be, he’ll merely extend his arms and materialize a shield around them both. The Jade Shield can withstand pretty much anything so fighting the hounds and the horseman will be easy enough. ]

It seems we’re not alone; I believe there might be weapons off to the side as if left for us to fight with.

[ If it’s a fight they want they picked the wrong retiree to do it against. ]

Wildcard;

( Hit me up with something else if you'd like! )

treat!

[forestwatcher]

[He catches the pleasant sound of the man's voice as he makes the comment on what he received as his 'treat' and the forest watcher glances up just in time to get a good look at the flower held in Zhongli's hand.

It catches his attention immediately, both for its familiar scent and appearance, and he straightens a little in his seat.]

That's... a glaze lily, correct? [Pardon his intrusion, he just didn't expect to see one here.] Your friend was from Liyue?

Orym of the Air Ashari | Critical Role | Familiar

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

(( Orym's canon point is Ep 33 (aired 9/8/22) as to avoid spoilers the most recent set of events, but please let me know if you're avoiding spoilers from before that! ))

[ 1. Arrival ]

[Orym wakes up flat on his back in the middle of a cornfield, a cool breeze doing its best to war with the warmth of the sun on his face.]

...huh.

[Just that at first. He sits up slowly, taking a moment to take stock of his condition. No blood. So, is he dead then? This could be the afterlife? He vaguely remembers following a fox, and that was unexpected. He has fallen in battle before, and always managed to get back up again (with the help of a healer or two), but he doesn't remember ever winding up in some strange field during the in between.]

Didn't expect the afterlife to have so much corn.

[If he truly is dead, he'd really hoped he'd be reunited with Will. Instead, corn. But okay, nothing to do but roll with it. He gets to his feet and dusts himself off, a small three-foot-three-inch halfling in green armor and brown leather. His sword is gone, and his shield, and neither of those are comforting thoughts. A noise catches his attention, a rustling like someone moving through the corn.] ...hello? Is someone there?

[Please be someone friendly.]


[ 2. Treat ]

[Nothing at all sketchy about sticking a hand into a secret basket of treats from a large jack-o-lantern man. This is probably fine, right? His hand closes around a small, round, cool thing and he draws out a familiar stone.] How did you get this?

[It wasn't in his pocket when he woke up, and when he tries to reach for the familiar magic of, nothing. Odd, but.

He steps back, looking down at it, and finds himself turning to explain to the stranger beside him.] My friend back home has the other one of these, since he had to leave. I've missed him. I wish I'd taken the chance to talk to him more. I suppose I may not see him again, now.

[Orym is still half-convinced this is a weird afterlife, and is still very put out that this afterlife does not include his late husband.]


[ 3a. Get Ahead - Leaving ]

[Stories were a nice distraction. By now Orym is beginning to suspect he may not be completely dead, or at least, this is not actually the afterlife.

The Spirit People being vaguely animal shaped isn't all that strange given the sorts of people who live throughout Exandria, and some of the stories aren't all that different from what he's heard at home -- spooky scary ghost stories seem to share some common elements even between worlds -- but the headless rider, that one's new.

And creepy, but Orym isn't exactly the sort to spook easily, even-keeled as he is.

That doesn't mean it isn't a little eerie walking along through the countryside as evening is starting to fall.]

Don't suppose you'd like to buddy up? Safer to travel in pairs. I'm Orym. [Maybe it'll be a nice friendly stroll! They can talk and get to know each other.]


[ 3b Get Ahead - The Hounds ]

[Or maybe things will go really badly.

Orym hears the hounds and immediately turns behind, eyes taking in the approaching, snarling hounds and behind them the large imposing Horseman.

Welp. The halfling, all just-over-three-feet of him, turns and immediately grabs up a sword that he's lucky enough to see just off the road, a quick twist of his wrist to check the balance. No shield, but okay, he can make this work.

A quick look back to his walking companion.] Can you fight? If not, you may want to run. [Orym will be fine with either. But he is standing his ground.]


[ 4. Wildcard ]

(( ooc: feel free to find Orym anywhere around and about if none of these prompts work! he'll be exploring everywhere. ))

1.

[subroutined]

[ There is someone else there, standing in the middle of the field, looking just as lost as Orym probably feels. He turns when he hears another voice, though he makes no move to approach. ]

I don't think this is the afterlife. So you ought to be safe, there.

[ He's pretty sure things like him don't get any sort of afterlife. Once he shuts down for the last time, that's it for him. No more Ash Starmer, of any kind. ]

Jason Grace | PJO/Riordanverse | Legend

[oursavinggrace]

treat

[All of this is...weird. Everything has been since he found himself following a fox for some reason. But Jason is a demigod, one who's been living the demigod life for literally as long as he can remember. Weird is pretty much the status quo with dealing with gods and monsters and whatnot regularly.

So, yeah. Fox, the whole star thing, legends, and now this odd festival. Weird, but he's managing alright. Jason doesn't impose his presence on the gourd people – gods know he's had more than his fair share of being in the spotlight and he's not big on dancing anyway. He's content to just sit to the side helping husk corn until he better understands what's going on here.

Until he belatedly noticed everyone's stopped and staring at him, including the giant Jack-O-Lantern. Awesome.]

Uh...treat?

[Hell if he knows whether that was the right answer or not. And he's nervous as he's offered a basket he can't see inside, reaching in cautiously half expecting to be bitten or something. But when he pulls out an old photo, his expression looks like he can't decide how to feel about it. It's all mixed relief, sadness, suspicion and bittersweet happiness at once, and he seems to struggle with it for a moment before feeling the stare of the person next to him.]

It, uh...it's my sister. [He tilts the photo to share it – a picture of a trio of youths, a sandy-blond boy and a punky-looking black-haired girl each a few years younger than Jason, and an even younger blond girl between them. Jason still hasn't taken his eyes off it, though his expression has settled into a strained smile.] Older sister, actually.

[He doesn't know why he's telling this random person this, but he's a bit too deep in his own head at the moment to think about it.]

get ahead

[All parties must end, etc. Time to go home. Except Jason just got here and wandered into this little farmland gathering. He doesn't even know where home is. He's shooed away from the party and all he can do is just...leave, wandering away into the farmland until the soft din of the festival cleanup in fading in the distance.

Out here, he pauses. It's not the dark or the ghost stories from the end of the evening getting to him, but maybe one would think that based on his uncertain expression. He's just...lost for what he's supposed to do now.

The echoes of what sound of approaching barks might be contributing to that sense of unease, though. Uh. Do people out here keep dogs...?]

wildcard

((ooc: Hit me with a prompt of your own! Feel free to prod me on plurk @ tinybro if you want to hash out specifics!))

treat

[rememoror]

[ There's a certain stiffness in her stance that betrays an awkwardness of having this picture shown to her. Thena had caught a glimpse of the boys wide array of emotions, though she would have never been one to broach the subject. It seemed a tad too personal. But the information, as well as the picture, clearly held importance to him. Deeply personal importance and she could most certainly respect that.

She offers a smile that's genuine, if not a bit strained. ] How long ago was this picture taken?