Althanas Hallowe'en Party!

Come and join this Halloween party!

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You can reply in character or out of character. A couple of paragraphs or sentences. You can even just comment, or give a gif.

Idea: share your Halloween traditions through the medium of prose and poetry.

***
Celandine walks into a shady grove, which is alive with heavy and brilliant lights, each one a tiny flame in a hollowed gourd, hanging from the branches. She wears a mask with an elaborate rabbit styled upon it, but still has on her classic jumper and her hair is stuck up with two large knitting needles. She grins at everyone who is there, smelling the scent of pumpkin pie and butterbeer on the air.

This will be wonderful.

Shinsou walks in, wearing exactly the same thing that he's worn for years. He's holding a pumpkin spiced latte because "that's what everyone else is doing", and he's drawn a pair of fangs on Enpera's blade in black marker pen to make it look a "bit scarier".

He takes a seat in the corner of the room, and begins to make notes on all of his favourite Halloween things.

"...Spiders..."

Storm sits calmly at the bar, a rapidly aging lady on his lap quoting him what she considers lavish numbers for a string of lavish deeds. Out the frosted window of the surprisingly brightly lit brothel, he can make out the fuzzy outline of a dozen or so children waddling by the sidewalk of the cobblestoned Radasanth street, their bright costumes bouncing merrily.

Returning his gaze to his salacious saleswoman, the wizard is bemused by her costume. They were all pretending here; she pretended herself more promiscuous than she would choose to be, were it not for happenstance. Most of the patrons pretended they were "first-timers"; feigned shyness of the dressed businessmen dotted by protestations that prices were "too high" (compared to a standard they claimed no familiarity with). Storm Veritas pretended to be aroused by this woman, who's lack of flourish or passion had pulled him away from real interest.

"Sorry, my love. Tonight, my treat won't be a trick. Nothing personal." Standing politely and unseating his aghast host, the traveler made finished his cool glass of watered down ale. He tipped the bartender with a toothy grin, handing a bundle of tight gold crowns into the haggard hands of his experienced escort. She was still shocked as he made steps towards the door, where he had every intention of wreaking mischief.