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Post by Lizica on Nov 1, 2014 18:09:33 GMT -5
...Well, the Reaper may be the Reaper, but they remember the fine smells of fine foods from their life. (Nevermind the fact that this memory is assisted by the fact that the Reaper is just a costume.) On the other hand, the Reaper suspected that it might be a trap. Or if it isn't... Well, it'd be bad to waste food. On the other hand, there are a lot of candles. Feast or no, a candle could come in handy if they arrive somewhere dark. The Reaper walks over and tries to lift one of the candles from the walls. Whether or not they succeed, they go back to the table and look inside one of the platters. So... tempting... Well, how much could a little bit hurt? If they find a pie beneath and it looks okay, they begin to eat some of that. Coaster, likewise, approaches the table; he first goes for the hot cocoa, then opens the first tray to his left. He isn't really paying attention to what's underneath yet, though--just seeing if he can peer into the pulpy hallway for a glimpse of what's to come while he piles up his plate with whatever deliciously sweet contents are underneath the lid. Armed with candle and radio respectively, the reaper finds three-quarters of a pumpkin pie beneath the platter lid, still warm and sporting a buttery graham cracker crust; the ninja-dinosaur-mafioso uncovers a platter of sweet potatoes, positiviely drenched in toasted marshmallows. As you glance down the pulpy hallway, it appears to be a fairly standard haunted house hallway (well, plus the pulpy walls). There look to be suits of armor and an ornate rug running along its length as it winds around a bend. You're so preoccupied by the delicious food and by examining the next hallway that you fail to immediately notice a scraping noise somewhere above you. "Oh, finally!" hisses a voice. "The main courses are here!" "Do you think they're very bright?" whispers a second voice. "Well, they're both armed, so obviously they're not too terribly stupid." "My favorite brains are when they've studied neuroscience. Do you think they've studied neuroscience?" You finally spot them--four zombies dangling in the pumpkin chandelier overhead. They notice you looking at them. "COVER BLOWN, COVER BLOWN!" shrieks the third zombie, and he leaps down and blocks the incredulous jack-o'-lantern face behind you. The other three jump down as well, attempting to corner you. The lights from the chandelier swing from the movement and cast the room in a swirling, shifting light. "FOUR UNDEAD SEEKING BRAIN, BUT NOT FROM THE WIZARD OF OZ," crackles the radio, sparking. "BE CAREFUL HOW TO BEAT THEM, LEST YOU FALL TO THEIR MAWS." "...Have you studied neuroscience?" asks the fourth zombie, almost pleadingly, as he brandishes a serving spoon from the dining table. The be-tuxedo'd tentacular catgirl notices how many people have already walked towards the quaint, well-decorated little house, fears that there will be no candy left, and hurries after them. She is very, very, very careful not to let her tentacles upset any of the decorations, and very disappointed when the girl at the door causes all the pumpkin candles to be blown out. ;n; She gets distracted by the walls inside the pumpkin and spends quite a while licking them. They're a bit slippery even for her tentacles. She notices the frowny face, tries without success to turn its frown upside-down or to lift its corners, then crawls through it for something else to do. She hears a crackling sound ahead, as well as other people, and takes the liberty of following them to the next chamber, if that's OK and nobody stops her. Assuming that she got to the same place, she hears the radio message, misses the other explorers by an inch, but decides to dive through the Gleeful Face with a "Wheeeee" in an attempt to make a small rhyme. Through the gleeful face, you find a winding corridor of pulp. You find suits of armor, candelabras, and increasingly large spiderwebs as you go. At length, you come to an intersection: To your left, you can see a little bit of a banquet hall, where some other people may already be inside. To your right, it's pitch black, but you can hear an odd clicking noise. At the very fork of the hallways is a black sarcophagus, very simple and very elegant at the same time. It rattles in place, and you imagine you hear a voice from within muttering about how stupid latches are. I wonder if you should attempt to open it. That might be a bad idea. "She's terribly irritable," a suit of armor tells you as it leans in and whispers. And just when Sporty was finally promised real bats, they turn out to be the giant monster kind. What a shame. Sporty turns tail (literally) and makes to follow Lizica. She looks back in the general direction of the ghosts and says, "Sorry I couldn't help! Thanks for the advice!" Before she can follow Lizica through the smiling mouth, though, it starts moving as the jack-o-lantern speaks. Sporty bites her lip and turns back around, diving through the downward-sloping tunnel instead in hopes of escaping the monster. She keeps a lookout for good pumpkin seeds in the meantime. You slide right from the tunnel and slowly come to a stop. It appears that you're...outside? Could it really be outside? It's very odd, though--looking around, you have no idea where you are. It's some kind of enormous pumpkin patch in the middle of nowhere, no neighborhoods or trick-or-treaters in sight. There is, however, a-- A stream of lightning cracks just past you and singes a nearby jack-o'-lantern with a shocked expression that leads elsewhere. (It looks only half-carved; perhaps you could find some seeds in there.) You quickly look back towards the lightning's source, however, and see a peculiar person in a black robe, with a tall rectangular hat and a green and orange polka dot scarf. Her hand is forward, the palm smoking, presumably where the lightning came from. "I'm the pumpkin patch fairy godmother," she says in an accusatory, breathless, scratchy voice. "I turn carriages into pumpkins and people into mice, I light lightning and douse fires, what brings ye here, are you aligned with them bats what keep attacking my pumpkins?" You wonder a little if you should backtrack and hang out with the laundry ghosts for a bit longer. Or move ahead, through the shocked jack-o'-lantern; or run off into the pumpkin patch night, hoping to find more signs of civilization; or try to convince the...fairy godmother...person...to not fry you or turn your into a mouse or do whatever she does to mermaids. |
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Post by Gelquie on Nov 1, 2014 23:27:54 GMT -5
The Reaper paused from their food, setting down the pie in order to pick up their candle and scythe again. They watched the zombies carefully as they began approaching, and considering their meal. They asked if they studied neuroscience... Based on their earlier conversation, the Reaper decided that it was probably best to not mention their interest and occasional glances into the subject. Nor did they think it wise to mention what they did study. Instead, they held their scythe at the ready and held their candle tightly, it away from their face so that their face could be properly shrouded. Here's hoping they had a good enough costume.
"Pardon me, but I am Death," the Reaper said. "Shouldn't you have been in your graves long ago? It's way past your coffin-time. Go to your graves and get some rest. Don't make me tell you again."
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Post by Liou on Nov 2, 2014 3:39:55 GMT -5
That might be a bad idea. "She's terribly irritable," a suit of armor tells you as it leans in and whispers. But when has the catgirl ever taken reasonable-sounding advice? After drumming on the suits of armor, getting a few cobwebs tangled in her tentacles and sampling a lot of pumpkin pulp on the way, the catgirl walks right up to the sarcophagus. No matter how elegant it is on the outside, it does not look like a very nice place to be stuck in, and catgirls are naturally very curious, anyway, so she definitely attempts to open the black sarcophagus! "Hello? Are you OK in there? It looks kind of narrow, definitely not roomy enough to enjoy one's candy!" |
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Post by Sporty on Nov 2, 2014 7:46:21 GMT -5
Sporty hesitates for a moment as she considers her options. A part of her thinks she should get out of here before this fairy godmother person decides to zap her with some unpleasant spell, but she's not sure she wants to try her hand at going for the shocked jack-o-lantern when that's the one the fairy electrocutes it (and possibly her) again, and she's not sure where else to go in this pumpkin patch. But then, she gets an idea.
"Um, hello," the mermaid says with a tentative wave. "My name is Sporty, and if you're talking about those monster bats that scared Lizica earlier... No, I'm definitely not aligned with them. And I haven't seen any other bats tonight, so I'm not with them either." She pauses for a moment. "You turn people into mice? But wouldn't that be a bad thing, since mice like to chew on pumpkins just like those bats who keep bothering you do? Maybe it would be better to send those people back to where they came from -- you know, since that way they won't bother your pumpkins anymore." She holds her breath, hoping that her suggestion will work and the fairy will send her (and perhaps everyone else) home. If it has the opposite effect... Well, if that happens she's planning to run (swim?) off through the pumpkin patch in hopes of finding civilization or maybe a pumpkin face that isn't currently beset by monsters or crazy magicians.
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Post by Lizica on Nov 3, 2014 2:07:34 GMT -5
The Reaper paused from their food, setting down the pie in order to pick up their candle and scythe again. They watched the zombies carefully as they began approaching, and considering their meal. They asked if they studied neuroscience... Based on their earlier conversation, the Reaper decided that it was probably best to not mention their interest and occasional glances into the subject. Nor did they think it wise to mention what they did study. Instead, they held their scythe at the ready and held their candle tightly, it away from their face so that their face could be properly shrouded. Here's hoping they had a good enough costume. "Pardon me, but I am Death," the Reaper said. "Shouldn't you have been in your graves long ago? It's way past your coffin-time. Go to your graves and get some rest. Don't make me tell you again." The zombies pause for a moment, taking in your words. A couple of them exchange uneasy glances. The third zombie, however, looks you up and down. "You're shorter than I remember," he says. "I think it's variable," says the first. "But, but," says the second. "But I smelled brains." "Maybe that's just the dinosaur." "Did the dinosaur study neuroscience?" "I don't think they had that field of study when dinosaurs were alive." "Wait--DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS," shrieks the second zombie, suddenly flailing at the dinosaur and then pointing at the reaper in panic. The others stare at him. "IF NEUROSCIENCE WASN'T AROUND WHEN DINOSAURS WERE ALIVE, AND DINOSAURS ARE NOW EXTINCT, BUT BOTH A DINOSAUR AND DEATH ARE HERE EATING, EATING RIGHT HERE, RIGHT HERE, THAT MUST MEAN WE'RE ALREADY DEAD!" ...You're not exactly sure if you follow their brainless logic, but you're not going to argue or point out the obviousness of your costumes, because all the zombies start to panic. Screaming that the second zombie is right, they flee the scene from both of you: Two run flailing down the adjacent hallway, and two climb up the chandelier and out the top of the pumpkin. As they leave, the radio crackles again. "THE CREATURES ALL FLED, SO MUCH THEY'RE DISMAYED. YOUR SOLUTION YOU MISSED, THE PIECES ALL SPLAYED. DIG THEM ALL BACK AND REACH THROUGH THE HOLES; AT THE END OF THE NIGHT, YOU'VE ALL THE SAME GOALS." But when has the catgirl ever taken reasonable-sounding advice? After drumming on the suits of armor, getting a few cobwebs tangled in her tentacles and sampling a lot of pumpkin pulp on the way, the catgirl walks right up to the sarcophagus. No matter how elegant it is on the outside, it does not look like a very nice place to be stuck in, and catgirls are naturally very curious, anyway, so she definitely attempts to open the black sarcophagus! "Hello? Are you OK in there? It looks kind of narrow, definitely not roomy enough to enjoy one's candy!" With a staggering gasp for fresh air, you open the sarcophagus and a mummy falls out of it, nearly on top of you. "LATCHEEEEES," she cries, muffled, through the layers and layers of aged wrappings. Finally, the creature staggers to its feet and attempts to dust itself off. (Yellow pebbles and clumps of reddish clay clatter to the pumpkin-covered rug.) "Thanks," the mummy tells you. At least, it looks like she might be looking in your direction; again, bandages. "It would have been a lot easier if SOME stupid knights were more HELPful," she adds pointedly. "Stupid anachronistic pumpkins," she mutters. Then, finally, "Oh right, I guess treats are supposed to be some kind of reward. Please have some." The mummy leans into the sarcophagus and pulls out a wad of...you're not sure. It might have been a cupcake at some point. Or maybe it was a burnt pumpkin seed. Either way, now it just looks like a moldy blob as black as the sarcophagus. "I've been in there a while," the mummy explains. As she hands it to you, two zombies suddenly scramble past you, yelling something about how Death has come for everyone and that neuroscientist dinosaurs are going to kill them again, flee for your un-lives. (A couple suits of armor shake their helmets and sigh.) "Hey, watch where you're hobbling!" the mummy cries, shaking an unraveling fist. Sporty hesitates for a moment as she considers her options. A part of her thinks she should get out of here before this fairy godmother person decides to zap her with some unpleasant spell, but she's not sure she wants to try her hand at going for the shocked jack-o-lantern when that's the one the fairy electrocutes it (and possibly her) again, and she's not sure where else to go in this pumpkin patch. But then, she gets an idea. "Um, hello," the mermaid says with a tentative wave. "My name is Sporty, and if you're talking about those monster bats that scared Lizica earlier... No, I'm definitely not aligned with them. And I haven't seen any other bats tonight, so I'm not with them either." She pauses for a moment. "You turn people into mice? But wouldn't that be a bad thing, since mice like to chew on pumpkins just like those bats who keep bothering you do? Maybe it would be better to send those people back to where they came from -- you know, since that way they won't bother your pumpkins anymore." She holds her breath, hoping that her suggestion will work and the fairy will send her (and perhaps everyone else) home. If it has the opposite effect... Well, if that happens she's planning to run (swim?) off through the pumpkin patch in hopes of finding civilization or maybe a pumpkin face that isn't currently beset by monsters or crazy magicians. The fairy godmother paces a patch of dirt before you, her hands still smoking dangerously. "HA!" she says. "Just send a bunch of intruders back where they came from, that's ridiculous, that's what for, mice are better than people, they don't demand stupid wishes of me, I can't send people back when the idiots brought themselves here, are you mad, go back yourself, you're a water whachamahoozit, dig through the wall and douse the two-faced jack-o'-lantern's flame yourself, what do I look like, some kind of fairy godmother?--" Her rambling is cut short as two zombies climb down from the top of a pumpkin in the distance and run off into the pumpkin patch screaming about reapers and dinosaurs. "THAT'S IT," screeches the fairy godmother. A flash of lightning shoots out and then upwards, singeing open the tunnel you came from and setting her hair and yours on end. "You lot in smarmy, stupid costumes can just get out of my pumpkin patch and stop harassing my zombies, now grab your awful friends and SCRAM before I fry all of you, you'd make terrible mice, worse than bats!" |
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