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Timekeeper	Back before the Storm of 1999, the Foundation, like any other office building, had a tradition of Halloween parties, but in the decade plus since, the habit's largely fallen off. Consequently, this means that Vertin, in the year 1999+12, has never actually been to one herself. Now that the wilderness has manifested inside of the suitcase, and Vertin's social circle has expanded beyond the Foundation and the imminently doomed rest of the world, what better time is there to start?     This party is officially endorsed by the Foundation, but to avoid security issues and drunken stumbling through Laplace to get back to the warpgate in the middle of the night, the suitcase isn't being stored there. That means there's no screenings or paperwork to fill out or advance warning needed, just a trip to the warpgate hub that connects to the LSCC, and then entering the already magically-primed suitcase, stepping into it to descend its pitch-black staircase.     The interior of the suitcase has been fully transformed for the purposes of the party. With Matilda's help and a few hours of work, the typically cozy manor has been draped in curtains and lit with candles, crystals dangling from the ceiling and placed on the bookshelves. Rather than the usual commercial Halloween decor of cartoonish spooky plastic and horror imagery, this Halloween was derived from secondhand information and atemporal cultural osmosis, and the result is a fixation on atmosphere and mysticism instead of pumpkins and bat cutouts.     The large sunroom that the suitcase enters into is aglow with moonlight streaming through scented incense smoke, the sun having long since set over the wilds outside. There's several long tables of buffet food, and a side room with drinks, particularly Dr. Pepper and a punch bowl. The party continues outside to the lawn of the manor, which is only barely 'tamed' enough to be called a lawn. The treeline is dotted with floating ghostlight lamps, and wildflowers cover the ground practically everywhere besides where you put your feet. The tables to eat are mostly outside here, though there's couches and stools in the sunroom too, and it's impossible to navigate anywhere in the manor without coming across a cozy nook for private conversation or an empty bedroom or office.     Outside is also where La Source's pond is, with a campfire and s'mores supplies nearby it. Beyond the lit area for the party, the wilderness continues as far as you can see, and there's ominous rustling in the brush whenever you're alone. Rocking chairs indoors creak back and forth when you're not looking, and cold spots come and go unnaturally-- for Marcus, who can actually see them, either Vertin's vibe or the particular aesthetic and arcane sensibilities of the manor have attracted the faintest kind of spirits, confirming that those sensations aren't just your imagination.
Timekeeper	The locations of the party are as follows:     The sunroom contains typical party foods, with vegetable platters, sandwiches, kebabs and other meat, a wide variety of finger foods, and whatever else seems appropriate. There's also couches arranged nearby a karaoke machine there. There's drinks, both alcoholic and not: the punch bowl is spiked, by Vertin.     The dining area has a bunch of small circular tables outdoors, near the edge of the woods. There's card games here too, and ball-shaped black furry creatures known as carbuncles occasionally curiously venture towards the tables to snap food off of them with surprisingly sharp teeth.     La Source's pond has toy plastic spiders placed on the lilypads floating on top of the water, and she'll be very cross if anyone disturbs the water enough that they fall off and then become litter. There's a campfire, for either sitting at or making s'mores, and outdoorsy games like trying to throw handmade hackeysacks into a carved pumpkin's mouth.     The hallways of the manor lead to plenty of other locations, but most probably aren't relevant. Extra bedrooms are available and ready, in case anyone gets blackout drunk and can't make it home safely, as is a room set up with couches and snacks and a large CRT tv, playing classic scary movies. Vertin is wearing a gothic lolita witch dress, almost too elaborate to really be called a costume. Black and lacy, with a parasol resting on her shoulders and a floppy witch hat, it's the most feminine thing any Elite has seen them wear but it surprisingly suits them perfectly. They've also powdered their face and applied smoky charcoal lipstick and eyeshadow along with mascara, becoming almost doll-like, with their favorite blue gemstones and silver accents providing the only color. She's in the sunroom to greet guests as they arrive. Sonetto is wearing her Foundation uniform, having declined to wear a costume at all. When she showed up early while Matilda and Vertin were decorating, Vertin insisted that she wear at least something, so over top her grey and white checkered hairband, she's wearing a set of fake dog ears. She's in the sunroom as well, by the drinks. TTT is dressed in the sluttiest costume by far, which makes sense, since all she probably had to do was download it. She's wearing a sexy headless horseman costume, with leather tights and a corset under the high-necked cloak, but instead of putting a pumpkin on her head, she's removed the top TV out of her stack of four and simply put it somewhere else. The TVs displaying her body are stacked up by the karaoke machine, and the TV with her head on it is in the movie room. Rabies is wearing a cowardly lion costume. He's crouched by the bushes near the dining area and petting a bird that's landed on his knee. Cristallo has elaborately decorated her wheelchair to look like the iron throne from Game of Thrones, with metallic-painted swords sticking out all around the chair in the most high effort artistic costume here. She herself is dressed like Arya Stark, and she's outside also by the seating area. Poltergeist is just wearing a sheet over her head like usual, but she's changed it. There's a bunch of extra dots on it, like from the Charlie Brown cartoon that was contemporary for her before the Storm hit. She's hanging out by the pond, though a healthy distance away from it, hiding behind a camping chair. La Source is wearing a Party City Tinkerbell costume, made of vinyl. She's got the little wings strapped onto her back, which she raises herself out of the pond to show off proudly to anyone who'll look.
Foundation Scions	Matilda has been fretting, for all the time she's had free in the day, to assist with the decoration of the suitcase's house. Of course she has- decorating is important, she's fond of it, and it's the first time ever that she's gotten the chance to actually see the inside of Vertin's famed suitcase, the first time ever she's gotten the chance to participate in Halloween- and, actually, a proper party, to boot. Flitting about to light atmosphere-setting candles, she's there before others show up, eager and excited.     And, of course, the magnificent Matilda Bouanich has dressed up for the occasion! As costume-researching has shown, a particularly common (and highly-liked) Halloween costume is, traditionally, the un-lucky and ill-omened black cat! Less-classic, instead of a reliance on some type of bodysuit or dress to fit the plain-black color scheme, she's clearly taken inspiration from some specific image of a tuxedo-patterned cat to match against, with a, frankly silly ensemble. Black button-up blouse, under a silly cream-white vest, with a ribbon choker and attached bell for the requisite collar, silly nearly-black skorts (she wears those not just for her SPDM uniform, it seems), knee-height white socks, and her usual black flats. To the extent of being a 'cat', she's bought the costume ears, attached to a visible black headband, costume gloves, and a tail clipped to her belt. Lacking anywhere else to attach it, her blue topaz brooch sits clipped to her left cat-ear, sparkly in the moody light, alongside smoky-quartz studded bracelets visible between cat-gloves and sleeve-cuffs.     Also, what she's most proud of- of course she did the make-up nose and whiskers.     Sometime, earlier in the evening, while setting up decorations, Matilda Bouanich, most respectable Monitor Assistant of the SPDM, smuggled in alongside her decorating supplies, a small bottle of neutral spirits, by which to also spike the Vertin-spiked punch.     Mesmer Jr., meanwhile, arrives late- her costume isn't personally designed at all, and it would be far less unhinged of her if it was. Where Matilda assembled outfit-pieces, new costume parts, and topped it off with makeup, Mesmer's is from a dollar-store, topped off with equipment she clearly just took with her from work- distressingly, she's come in a cheap, cheesy, white-and-red-cross 'sexy nurse' get-up, plasticky, with the collar zipped high. Her EM-amplifier headband sits atop her head where the shitty nurse-cap would otherwise be if it wasn't obviously discarded in a trash can somewhere, the sterile gloves she wears are from surgery, as are the clutch of covered scalpels stuck like pens in her breast pocket (it's a surprise that that cheap of a costume has functioning pockets.)     Despite she herself working in the same compound that Vertin's suitcase is stored within, the fact that she shows up already costumed means she hasn't come straight from an early-ending shift- and the fact that she's stuffing a hip flask into her handbag while stepping through the front door, smelling of alcohol (isopropyl and ethanol), simply reinforces that proof. Still, somehow, this is Mesmer putting effort into something, and that's kind of worse than if she hadn't. Additionally, the stupid white-colored heeled boots are obviously Mesmer's, and not costume. She'd be giving TTT a run for her money if everything about her vibe wasn't just distressing.     Matilda, of course, has parked herself in the sunroom, helping herself to food-items. Moon-lit environments no doubt her favorite- and Sonetto is there, dreamily-lit by the moon's glow... "So... Investigator Sonetto, since you've come dressed as a dog," She hasn't, Vertin made her, Matilda knows this, (oh god is that why she dressed as a cat? Did she foresee this?) "Ah-heh, should I be scared you will chase me around the premises?"     If her hands weren't full of snacks and punch, you can tell they'd be twirling hair.
Regulus	Regulus didn't have to make her way into the suitcase because much like the horror movie monster from your nightmares... SHE WAS ALREADY HERE!!! And so is APPLe actually...which is even scarier!? Regulus and APPLe have pretty basic costumes all told though they were clearly chosen with CARE. Regulus's costume is an apple. Yes, an apple. A bright red round apple costume that keeps her arms sort of aimed halfway forward and halfway to the side, barely able to move them. The costume includes a hat that is mostly red except for a little brown stem with a leaf poking out from the top. There's two cup (bottle really) holders affixed to the side of the hat and giant swirly straws poking out of one (1) Dr. Pepper and one (1) Diet Dr. Pepper that she is occassionally twisting her head to sip from one or the other. APPLe seems to have been painted orange and his costume is that he's an orange. Rather than a the little tie he's wearing a Freddy Mercury style silver sequin jumpsuit costume and has a little mustache pasted on his face (like Freddie Mercury's). Occassionally he helps push Regulus's sunglasses up as they tilt down. Regulus's eyes are a little red when one catches her with the shades drooping. "Vertin, love!" Regulus says (she intends to drop by on the pond later but is putting it off because La Source splashed her!!). "You really outdid yourself with the snacks! This party's gonna be a total rager! And your costume's astounding, did you make it yourself? that's marvy, my good mate!" She beams brightly at Sonetto, if a bit smugly, because she feels like she's been doing SUCH A GOOD JOB LATELY. "Sonetto, love, glad you're getting into the spooky spirit. Is our chief investigator going to keep us safe from monstrous mooks?" ''Should I be scared you will chase me around the premises?'' "Didn't have enough running and jumping, did you Matilda?" Regulus giggles for a moment, pauses, and then rewinds her memory a bit before adding, "Oh hey did you foresee Sonetto and wear a costume to match? You should've seen her, she was jumping like a champ!"
Storm Investigators	Today, Greta Hofmann has given Marcus her toughest assignment yet: Socialize. Chat. Mingle. To aid her in her task, her senior has requisitioned a disguise to help her blend in with the others: A black suit and pants with a black tie, a white dress shirt, and a pair of slightly darkened shades. Both of them are dressed identically in such suits, with the shorter one looking incredibly anxious with her hands free while the taller one looks about as stoic as a proper agent of a mysterious agency should. "It's time. Are you ready to begin, Agent M?" "N.. Not really, no. Do we really have to this, Madam-er. A.. Agent H? "The radio will only prepare you for so much, and there will be times where you will need to go incognito for real. Better here than somewhere you could get shot." Desperately wishing she could get shot right about now, Marcus greets Vertin with a meek "H.. Hello, Timekeeper. Thank you for inviting us." that can barely be heard at first until she's almost using her outside voice by the end. "What a stylish costume... Latter half of the 20th century... Oh! Sorry. Um. Did you order this from UTTU, or did it come from somewhere else?" The 'cold spots' are something of a relief for Marcus compared to everything else, of course, since she's kind of used to talking (or at least listening) to spirits. It's probably not too surprising to Greta, then, when she sees Marcus already starting to drift towards the spirits instead of approaching anyone else. Sighing lightly, Greta nudges Marcus until she's approaching Poltergeist instead, which actually keeps the younger 'agent' from working herself up too much. She's still slow to approach her, though, since she's not sure whether to inch towards her quietly or approach her directly. Seeing that she's hiding behind the camping chair, Marcus opts to tiptoe around it in case she's plotting a  surprise. "Oh! Miss.. Ah. Miss Poltergeist, hello. Have you been well? Who are.. Er. What are you doing here?" She asks in a hushed tone, glancing back at Greta who's just nonchalantly hanging out by the pond right up front.
Riku Asakura	Riku comes down the steps of the suitcase, not as Riku or not even as Ultraman Geed, but he is dressed up in a Toku-esc suit.  The colors are red, white, and black.  The helmet covers his head, which seems to be snap-on in the middle, and the rest of it seems to be a rubber suit with a strapped-on breastplate.  There are gauntlets and boots separated by the rubber suit with silver rings.   Suit for view: https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/ultra/images/3/32/Don_Shine.png/revision/latest?cb=20211006234147 Riku drifts to visit Cristallo; her throne is impressive, and her outfit familiar to him, who watches Game of Thrones when he can.  "Hello!  You're costume is pretty impressive!  I like the throne you have set up around it!" he says brightly, aiming to praise her for the work she's put in.  He pops his helmet off and shakes his short hair out to reveal Riku himself.   "Gosh, I forgot how stuffy it was in the outfit!"
UFO Gang	At a nearby dock -- "You sure you don't want to come?" "No, but thank you for asking... Unzan couldn't bear the idea, and I'm going to keep him company. I even got a bag of those candies in case anyone comes to trickatreat at the docks!" "What if nobody comes?" "Then I'll be able to listen to Pod Casts on that sound box, and we'll eat the candy ourselves." "Good plan!" And from thence, the questing girls travelled to the LSCC. There was a certain amount of gawking on their way through; murmurs of appreciation and 'wow! that thing is huge!', depending on the exclaimer. Among the party - Shou Toramaru - a gentle-looking woman in a flowing robe. She has left her various weapons at home. The main curious things are the accents: a tiger-striped bodice that seems to be very authentic looking, and a pair of big orange cat-ears, worn on a headband atop her head. That beatific expression on her face is tinged with something clearer: mild but profound confusion about the nature of this celebration. Nazrin - a short and shady younger woman, accompanying Shou. Nazrin has big round gray mouse ears on her head, with a fluffy hairstyle that avoids the question on whether those are a hairband like Shou's or if they're *ear* ears. Nazrin is wearing a brown fluffy kigurumi costume with a lighter-brown belly, zipped up in the front. There's a hood, resembling the outline of a certain classic cartoon's face, but she's wearing it flipped back. Nazrin seems to be in the spirit of things, and even has a plastic pumpkin bucket. Minamitsu Murasa - another young woman, this one in piratical garb. Over a slightly-unseasonable sailor suit (shorts are involved) is a black cape with a red velvet lining, a black tricorne hat with embroidered skulls on each of the 'sides,' and a black eyepatch worn over the right eye. Combine it with a thrifted leather belt and a wooden sword, and you have not just a captain, but a pirate captain. Or at least a pirate officer. You might need the parrot to make Captain. Down the dark staircase... and into a moonlit room. The three girls troop in and pause too look around, gawking at the sunroom windows, the distant and eerie tree-line, the door out to the forbidden(?) wilderness... and a campfire, too. Shou remembers her manners first and bows deeply to Vertin, reaching up with one hand to hold the cat-ears headband in place. (It's a size too big.) After straightening, she says to her, "Good evening; we are honored to attend this event. We had heard of it through Ms. Regulus and --" "There she is," says Nazrin, indicating the rocker while on her way towards the buffet line. She gets a plate and starts loading up on little meat skewers and (of course) slices off of the cheese plate. While trundling over to reach up with one small but grabby hand, Nazrin looks at Sonetto and Matilda, then to Regulus, and says; "I always wondered. Dogs chase cats. Cats chase us..." (mice, presumably). "Who chases dogs?" Nazrin then pops open a Dr. Papper and begins eating the party food. Shou raises a hand to greet Regulus and the ORANGe, before moving along out of the improptu receiving line (and going to get her own selection of mostly-vegetables). Minamitsu joined in the thank-yous before wandering off to look around, walking outside and occasionally swerving slightly to avoid whacking into things. She may have put the eyepatch over her dominant eye. She gazes skeptically at one of the critters lurking on the margin of the seating area... until something happens out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head, lets out a 'woooah' of pure innocent astonishment, and walks eagerly up to Riku. "/That suit is amazing/," she says, with a piratical clench of the fist. Which also means she looks at Cristallo's throne. The same impulse to go 'woooah' is magnified further as she regards the myriad blades.
James Bond	Bond descends into the suitcase in costume: a white racing suit with its collar slightly unbuttoned. His dark hair is more wavy and a little longer, though not so much that it'd reach past the back of his neck. Just under right shoulder bears the logo of a famous tire company. Two red racing stripes cross over the left shoulder, met perpendicularly by a single red stripe running down the legnth of the sleeve. At the left breast pocket there's an emblem of a racing team--one half is the Union Jack, the other is gold text over a black field: 'John Player Team Lotus.' Above it, in neatly embroidered red cursive, is the driver's name; 'Mario Andretti. The back bears the logo of the tire company and the team name a second time.     He makes his way first to the sideroom where the food is and makes himself a plate. Two kebabs, a helping of vegetables, a few hors d'oeuvres, and a ladling of punch. Bond gives the punch a curious and subtle sniff disguised as a sip. His suspicions confirmed and to his liking, he takes a more full sip and ladles a small portion to top himself off before heading outside to the dining area. On his way, he stops by Vertin to make some conversation.     "I have to admit, the decor is a surprise." He gestures with his punch, his eyes flicking upwards, at the distinct lack of fake cobwebs and plastic bats. "Who put it together? It's very atmospheric." You really outdid yourself with the snacks!     "Mmhm. You certainly like your punch strong."     He does a double take at Regulus and APPLe. "Apples and oranges. Not bad." A pause, looking over the sequined outfit. That and the mustache are very familiar to a man whose world hasn't left the eighties yet. "Was the Freddie Mercury bit making another statement or do you just like Queen?"
Tamamo	Tamamo has, this time, understood the assignment. Probably. She might have more experience with Halloween than Vertin. Maybe. The point is to dress in something frightening, but with a sense of personal appropriateness, right? She's done some research on costumes, and found a fortunate overlap of personal connection, recognizability, and (very nearly!) period-appropriate fright. She could definitely have made it a closer reference to the stalking mind-demons of the 1999-onward work that seems to be a large inspiration, but... making her appearance purposefully dirty was a little difficult to stomach. Maybe, some other time, she'll learn that kind of makeup. Maybe, someday, she can stomach a circa-1999 anglosphere zombie. For now, this will be done in her own style.     Most of the outfit, cap included, is pure white. Apart from color afforded by her own hair, and the ever-striking gold caught in her eyes, her costume is marked only at edges of the short sleeves and the overly wide lapels to either side of a daringly deep cut, all matching the hot pink cross on her white cap. It extends to what's a bit more than a mini-pencil skirt, though still less than work appropriate, with matching high boots and gloves.     Yes, as a healer, Tamamo has arrived as a nurse. For the sake of Halloween, she's brought what scares so many (according to her research) -- an ample supply of modern healing devices: medical needles filled with suspicious colors, strapped to her hip not unlike how she'd 'holstered' her talismans when dressed in chaps to visit America, that long while ago.     She takes a pose with a trio of syringes held between the fingers of one hand on entry, saying, "Hello, and good evening. Oh! You opened up to the outside! How very nice. I would love to have a look, Timekeeper. My, but your dress is wonderfully detailed."     Exchanging pleasantries is a given, but she really would like to see outside. The pond, perhaps? The spirits are something she recognizes immediately, but there's no reason to call attention to that.
Foundation Scions	'Oh hey did you foresee Sonetto and wear a costume to match?'     "Hein? W-what? No, it is a coincidence, Ms. Regulus! Purely! But- it is a most funny coincidence, is it not?" She sips at her punch- surprised at how alcohol-y it is! Whoops! Only then does Matilda pay much notice to Regulus' outfit- and she just breaks out laughing. "Ah-! Ah-hah, Ms. Regulus! You're, you've become so red, and so round! Ah, hah! Naturellement, tu te déguise en pomme! Une pomme! Ah..."     Matilda has to actually put her hands on her thighs in order to not keel over from laughing to hard, refraining most carefully from wiping at her eyes and subsequently messing up her whiskers. 'Who put it together? It's very atmospheric.'     "Hm! That would, of course, be none other than me-!" Not exactly! She helped, and a lot of the items used to decorate are hers, but she's leaping to take too much credit, interjecting into a conversation she's only overhearing and not actually being asked about. It takes her attention away from bothering Sonetto, at the very least! "Monsieur Bond! What, erm, are you costumed as..? I'm not sure I understand! A polo player..?"
Lilian Rook	WEEKS AGO: <J-IC-Scene> Dimo says, "Why would I not be?" Then Regulus speaks, and she makes a falling-toned 'hmmm' that ends in a level buzz. "Well, if I was mistaken for a local, perhaps this is a better effort at looking local than I thought." <J-IC-Scene> Regulus says, "What I read said demons but I didn't want to be judgemental." to Dimo. "Oh do you do divinations?" <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says distractedly, "Potential Halloween costume idea." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook stops, blinking, "Demon. Not. Silver Champion." <J-IC-Scene> Dimo says, "If you wished to 'dress' as one, Lilian, you know whom to ask. I'm sure I could find something to suit your wishes and dreams." AND SO, DUE TO A SEQUENCE OF UNAVOIDABLE EVENTS:     Lilian has put the second most effort into a costume she ever has. The bar was never exactly low, but the pressure to not be insensitive, offensive, or otherwise offputting, to a valuable Paladins ally, envoy of an ~exotic culture~, and mysteriously doting-menacing older woman, has taken the task of a one-day costume to wear to a single party and elevated it to the importance of being seen at a significant cross-world convention.     That's the only explanation for something so effortfully far outside of Lilian's norm anyways; even if she has interpreted it the most favourable-to-her direction possible, there are certain 'notes' of Dimo's that she can't avoid. As such, her initial arrival, through the Laplace warpgate, and then the suitcase entrance, is made wearing a cotton-canvas maxi skirt and loose-fitting touristy graphic t-shirt printed with the words May the Bridges I Burn Light the Way over her costume, both recently sourced from somewhere in California. She only removes them when she's a good way inside, and stops briefly to fix in a couple of items; contacts and greebles, mostly.     At least she does actually look the part! A subtle but extensive bit of foundation trickery has rendered her skin artificially off-white as a contrast background for faint drawn-on seams, contact lenses that result in a harsh green glow, and matching lipstick. An extraordinarily elaborate dark silver collar with a criss-crossed 'sun wheel' motif blends the neckline with the ornate metal chest harness that is technically comprised of greebles sourced from an old friend for the sole purpose of presenting the solar 'heart' glow and its implies spread elsewhere.     A loose-fit asymmetrical vest with detached sleeves and an opposite-slanting double-layered wrap skirt cut in clean geometric lines create a sense of her clothes being mathematically 'draped off' her body at their fulcrum points, exposing a glossy black body glove where they would otherwise bare a little too much leg, hip, waist and shoulder. Sticking to white over black and embroidered with gold geometric knots to concentrate the single shift in colour pallet, sneakily held together with black-on-black straps where it has to be, the fade from soft to hard to soft again is especially concentrated on her hands, rather than just her neck; both have the same dark silver metalwork wrought into fancifully assembled claws, all sleek lines and artistic seams, brilliantly reflective and frankly dangerously sharp on the outside edge, turned grip-safe textured and soft by the simple upturn of a palm.
Lilian Rook	The metal on her heels is just added after the fact, with additional pieces strung together by wire to look like they'd simply grown halfway up her legs over the bodysuit. And of course she didn't remove her hairpin. That'd be ridiculous. Lilian has simply decided to make it fit with the fortunately-extant sun motif of the Silver by slotting a radial pattern of gold and silver accessories around it, and a last-minute-order 'cyber fashion' LED-glow earpiece fin on the other side.     Evidently pleased by just how click-clack-y her footsteps are like this, Lilian first takes a little roundabout tour through the sun room (currently the moon room) just to marvel at the decore and drink in the atmosphere. Seeing Tamamo conversing with Vertin, she hurries back practically (and literally) aglow, already out here with "Oh my gosh you look incredible! So it really just is an innate sense of style~" at Vertin, and "Look at them!" in tones of hushed awe, grasping Tamamo's arm and pointing at Sonetto and Matilda. She has intuited, incorrectly, that Matilda successfully convinced Sonetto to begrudgingly match her. "It's worki~ng!" she hums, giddybouncing slightly.     "Oh my goodness what a perfect night. And here I thought I'd just be sad and missing Samhain! Not that the party at Lobotomy Corporation wasn't nice, but there's just something to be said of taste and atmosphere instead of a prescriptivist approach to the correct Halloween symbols, you know?" she rambles on at her fiancée and everyone else who can tolerate listening. "The rocking chair, the wisps, the cold hallways-- oh it's just homey isn't it~?" What? "Hang on-- Tamamo, do you want anything? I'm going to grab a drink-- oh and those kebabs might be worth a try."     Lilian is, of course, about to hustle off to the table where there is double-spiked punch. Having learned her lesson from crossing the US high off her gourd, she will change her behaviour in not eve the slightest way. She leaves her own bag on one of the seats where she simply assumes nobody will dare touch it, snickers at Regulus and APPLe pulling the simplest yet boomer-funniest costume she can think of, quickly waves at Cristallo and Poltergeist, gives TTT a meaningless wink, and then--     "Oh my god are you serious?"     Of course Mesmer is here. There's no reason whatsoever that she should be. But of course she is. Lilian is locked on, frozen dead in her tracks, the second she reaches the drink table.     "No. You can't be. That's . . . I don't believe you."
Timekeeper	"Ah-heh, should I be scared you will chase me around the premises?"     Sonetto is maybe as equally out of place at a party as Mesmer is, just less undignified about it. This is despite the fact that, as Matilda would know, Sonetto has been to the greatest number of parties of any of them-- as a representative of the SPDM or more recently the Foundation, or as a bodyguard for a councilmember. She seems to be channeling the latter here primarily, but without a political figure to bodyguard for, she seems to be trying to protect... the manor? The vibes? It's hard to tell.     She's not doing a great job at it, since she's holding a cup of twice-spiked punch without noticing that either Vertin or Matilda put alcohol in it.     Sonetto frowns at Matilda, trying to understand what she means, and when she thinks she does, she smiles reassuringly and shakes her head. "Ah, I am only looking out for partygoers who behave in inappropriate or disorderly ways due to the influence of shamelessness or imbibement in order to apprehend them before they can cause trouble. If you do not misbehave, then I will have no reason to chase you, Matilda." "You should've seen her, she was jumping like a champ!"     "Jumping...?" Sonetto's eyes widen slightly in curiosity. She looks over at Matilda, obviously discarding the joke that she divined to match costumes out of hand, because there'd simply be no reason to do that.     "Did you encounter Regulus on your recent field excursion?" It's not a field mission. She's not a field agent! "And your costume's astounding, did you make it yourself? that's marvy, my good mate!"     Vertin smiles at Regulus, her quietly pleased exhalation swirling the incense smoke in front of her face. "Thank you, Regulus. But I'm not a seamstress; I had it ordered. Did APPLe help you with the details of your costume?" As if the cultural complexity of a big apple paper mache lump needs input from an expert.     She confirms for Marcus, "I ordered it off of UTTU's catalogue some time ago. This seemed to be an appropriate event to wear it, judging by the costumes others are wearing. Enjoy yourselves, Marcus; Investigator Hoffman."     Now as more and more people filter in, Vertin begins to make rounds rather than lingering by the entryway. She cycles around to stop at each point of interest to give everyone in attendance some attention and make sure there's nothing that needs her assistance, walking softly despite her tall black boots having hard heels on the wood floor. Shou is given a smile and a nod as Vertin walks by. "Regulus's friends are welcome here, of course. A pleasure to meet you. What is your name?" "Who put it together? It's very atmospheric."     "Matilda and I, for the most part. Sonetto and Rabies helped as well, with arranging the furniture, and with boxing up temporary storage." She indicates the bookshelves, where normally there'd be colorful records or toys or statues that would disturb the ambiance, replaced with crystals or pots of incense burners instead. "Matilda's quite skilled in the matter, I found. If it's any one person's vision, I'd say it's hers; much of it comes directly from her divining materials." "Who are.. Er. What are you doing here?"     Poltergeist yelps and flinches so hard at Marcus's gentle words that she flips herself right onto the grass. Passing through the blades of grass without disturbing them, she hastily gathers back up her sheet to ball it around herself, eyeholes turning around to Marcus while visibly shaking. "A-a-ahhhhhh... sh-should I not be?? I'm sorry! Er-- um, at the p-party? I thought I was staying far e-enough away but if it's creepy I-I-I can go!"
Timekeeper	"Hello! You're costume is pretty impressive!"     While dressed up like this, Cristallo seems self-assured enough to be a little prideful. She pushes one wheel to rotate herself 360 degrees, allowing Riku and Minamitsu to admire the *thorough* work she's done in plating her chair in fake blades. Her voice, even when she's having a good time, is as faint as rustling grass, but she's still reveling in it.     "Thank you very much. Are you from the future far enough to be familiar with it? Miss Vertin and TTT managed to install 'Netflix' on the televisions here in the house, which is a channel that you can control the showing of yourself. Last month I watched through a show called Game of Thrones, and despite the poor quality of the final season, I found the storyline of the Targaryen family throughout history to be fascinating and tragic, and . . ." She was really ready to go with a lore dump on the first person that engaged her.     Outdoors, the little pond fae has gotten sick of getting no attention while everyone else-- no!!! She's just coming over to inspect the party and make sure that no one is acting *rude*, or else she'll have to splash them! Dressed in her fairy costume and tottering along with wet slaps on the stepping stones, she detects someone that she doesn't recognize and immediately decides that this is *their* fault and it's her duty, even, to verify that person's identity.     Hands on her hips, placed emphatically enough that her plastic wings wobble, La Source leans forwards and scrunches up her nose to look up at Tamamo. "Who're *you*?"
Regulus	''It is a most funny coincidence, is it not?'' "Ahaha! A coincidence, huh?" Regulus beams agreeably. Matilda could say the moon is square and she'd happily agree because she's just thrilled this party is even happening. "You did a great job with setup. I think this is some people's first halloween party." She doesn't seem bothered by the laughter but, well, it'd be a little silly if she was? This is clearly supposed to be a silly costume so laughing at a goofy costume is what's supposed to happen. "We did pirates last year, got eyepatches and a hook hand and everything." She probably didn't decide to be a pirate dj because she happened to wear a pirate costume for halloween one day. ''...snickers at Regulus and APPLe'' Vibrantly, Regulus is probably about to make Lilian snicker more because she attempts to wave at her but because of the way her arms are pinned it ends up looking like she's wiggling around from side to side while flapping her arm like a flipper at her. "Hey that costume's fab as all out, and it looks familiar!" Regulus tells her and watches her for a long moment, absolutely not recalling the particulars of that conversation with Dimo in this moment. But before she lingers too long... ''If you do not misbehave, then I will have no reason to chase you, Matilda.'' "Guess you gotta get a little riled up first, Matilda! Better get to it!" She's probably not being too serious but that doesn't mean she wouldn't be thrilled if Matilda took her up on the suggestion. ''Did APPLe help you with the details of your costume?'' "Mhm! You've a good eye. He knew exactly what breed of apple to make as the costume and made sure it looked appropriately delish!" Apparently APPLe was needed for the cultural complexity of a big apple paper mache lump. "I hope you have ther best halloween ever today, love!" She may be a scoundrel, but her loyalty to Vertin is genuine. She honestly wasn't entirely sure THE GANG would be coming by but they did pay her for a meal so big even Regulus couldn't hope to finish it, so they're cool in her book. "Yeah!" She shouts, half to Vertin and half to Shou and the others. "I thought Minamitsu would be a good buddy for Polly!" Poltergeist. "I was looking for a ship and I ran into them." She gives a nod to Nazrin, approving of her beverage choice, obviously. APPLe has to fly off for a bit before replacing a Dr. Pepper bottle for Regulus. It's a wonder she still has teeth. ''Was the Freddie Mercury bit making another statement'' "Oh no, Mr. Bond, I simply like to dress up as popular musicians from time to time and I thought it'd add a bit of spice to my orange outfit today, I was worried I wasn't being as flamboyant as the Captain here." Regulus however immediately gets the smuggest look on her face as she waddles towards Bond. "Well well well, Mr. Bond...! It seems you've made it... to our lair!" She tries to lean in but the costume doesn't allow it and she half-lowers her voice to say, "I'll have you know I've been verrrry busy and verrrry helpful but it's all hush hush, mate. Secret agent type stuff." She winks, but she's wearing sunglasses, so Bond can't see it.
Riku Asakura	"Oh yeah, I watched the series on Netflix too!" Riku nods, listening to Cristallo go over her opinions on the show and, of course, how tragic and fascinating the Targaryens' family line is.  Of course, there was the last season, which he scrunches his nose at.  "Yeah, the last season was a total train wreck..." he starts, but is quickly cut off by the young lady, who goes into more details.   Minamitsu comes to wow at his suit, so of course, he puts the helmet back on and does a pose.  "Dooooooon Shine!" he says as he does the pose.  "Haha, sorry, it's a famous show from where I'm from, so when people take an interest, I can't help but do the pose.  Nice to meet you, I'm Riku by the way, Riku Asakura!" he continues, properly introducing himself and making a proper bow.
Timekeeper	While much of the original furniture's been removed, and the contents of the bookshelves, in order to fit the aesthetics of the night, there's still some things that remain. The sunroom has always been packed in every corner with houseplants and even ivy trailing along the interior walls and draping down to brush the tops of the windows, and Vertin was loathe to remove any of it. In addition, the CRT TVs and small computer monitors that are always positioned around the manor for TTT's benefit remain.     This is used, the moment that Mesmer arrives, to be able to stalk her around the party. The intersection of Mesmer and Lilian nearby the drink cooler feels practically preordained, and the teeny 7-inch portable TV on the granite counter flickers to life to display TTT's leather tights and equestrian heels. She ducks down, in tiny-mode, and... her head's still gone! How frightening! (It's still on the TV in the movie room.)     Not that they really need to see TTT's face to hear the smug smile in her voice. The CRT's screen buzzes with static enough to make the hair on their skin stand up. "Heyyyy, you twooo! Wowwww, who woulda expected the Mesmer to show up to a function like this? Not you, right, Boss? Or were you? Hahahahaha! So, so, Mesmer! You getting along with Vertin now, are ya?"
Foundation Scions	Mesmer Jr., distressed, distressing, and disastrous worker at Laplace Rehabilitation Center, finds herself lingering around between the sun-room and the room displaying scary movies, watching the latter out of the corner of her eye, and idly socializing with the few others present she tolerates- a comment to TTT's usage of the television as a head, and an impressed eye-raise at Cristallo, not because she knows about Game of Thrones, but because it's an impressive bit of handicraft, and Mesmer has, surprisingly, a soft spot for the girl. She's, alarmingly casual, for how disconnected from this kind of social interaction, or caring about the actual theme of the holiday, she is. Until- 'Oh my god are you serious?'     Mesmer mirrors Lilian's confused, frozen look, a similar mix of shock, disbelief, and distaste. To her, also, it's a surprise that she'd be here- it's a sanctioned-enough event by the Foundation, put on by a (not particularly friendly anymore) former friend, who she's de-facto tasked with keeping tabs on, frankly, seeing any particular off-worlder here is something possibly worthy of surprise. Clearly, Mesmer didn't expect Lilian's presence, making the fact that by how she moves, she's obviously intoxicated, and making the fact that she's dressed like that, into accelerants in a metaphorical trash-fire.     "What are you even doing here?" Is a phrase she has no right to say- she opens up her handbag, as if about to pull her flask back out in reaction, and just pinches the bridge of her nose instead. "Don't stutter and trail off- what can't you believe?"     Mesmer spends a bit longer than she should, in that disappointed posture, before she relaxes, and places her hand on her hip- and then the back of a chair, instead, as if it offers some bit of stability. Does she need stability? Is she already fucked up?     "I suppose there wasn't a bouncer to check invitations- stop staring at be like that. It's unpleasant." There weren't invitations sent. Mesmer didn't have one. She certainly didn't ask Vertin, she just heard about it. Despite this, Mesmer obnoxiously crosses both of her arms in front of her chest, and scowls back at Lilian. 'Wowwww, who woulda expected the Mesmer-'     "Don't." Mesmer looks about two seconds from reaching out to shove TTT's tiny monitor over. 'You getting along with Vertin now, are ya?'     Mesmer exhales, slow, and not measured at all- "The host? We've barely talked, recently. If she's up to some reckless plan with this event, it's hardly evident- but I wouldn't be surprised. Everyone else always is, but I know her to well to count that out." Oh, she's drunk-drunk, talking twice as long on that topic as she'd want to.
Tamamo	'Look at them!'     Tamamo looks toward Matilda and Sonetto. "Oh, thank goodness." Hushed, "I had thought that Ms. Sonetto might not dress up at all."     'Oh my goodness what a perfect night.'     "Have you seen the outside areas, before? It was not open the first time of our meeting here, as I faintly recall. Ah, can you sense that? There are spirits, there, after all. How curious! I had expected a bounded field, but this... did it expand, or was it constrained? A 'pocket world' is an entirely different thing."     '...there's just something to be said of taste and atmosphere instead of a prescriptivist approach to the correct Halloween symbols, you know?'     "It is most interesting to see how one approach may be different than another, I think. Of course, a tradition is nothing if it is not followed in any respect, but to identify 'that which matters' and change 'that which may be modified'... it is as with cooking, no? Those that are praised are not those who merely follow a recipe, but those that understand the goal." It might sound like she's gone off on some other topic, but to her, that's all direct response.     'Hang on-- Tamamo, do you want anything?'     "My throat is a bit dry, as it happens. A kebab sounds lovely, as well."
UFO Gang	"I am Shou Toramaru," says the tiger-vested woman to Vertin. "Of my compatriots..." who have both promptly wandered off, though Nazrin is at least within eye-shot for purposes of stuffing her face, "She in the, 'Jerry' costume, is Nazrin. The dread pirate was, is, Minamitsu Murasa." A pause, and Shou adds, "Is 'Poltergeist' present? Ms. Regulus asked us to -- yes," Shou says, gesturing. "Just so! And good evening to you, 'Miss Apple.'" There's a brief aside to Regulus as Shou says, "The costume-seller said I should get gray ears, not tiger-stripe, to harmonize with Nazrin's outfit... am I wearing them correctly?" (Shou is, though the size is slightly too big.) Shou admires other outfits as they come in, although she is arranging herself some food as she does. "Good evening... John Player," she says to James Bond, with one of those 'I have no idea what I'm doing, but maybe it's enigmatically pleasant' smiles. She also puts an entire baby carrot in her mouth, which may be its way to address her own lack of grounding in the current situation. Matilda, then, asks a question -- and Shou's eyes swing directly towards her. Silently a look crosses her face: 'thank you so much' Shou continues to crunch on the baby carrot quietly, while looking back to Mr. Bond. Her attention turns towards others, even as she moves on to a slice of bell pepper, but /that/ particular one she wants to hear. Minamitsu does a walk around of Cristallo, craning her head back and forth. "I'm from super long ago but I spent most of it buried in the ground. Is Netflix like a Pod Cast?" After that she looks at the wheelchair-riding queen of the dragons with the wide, innocent eyes of someone who is fully prepared for a Lore Dump. But -- Riku! He re-helms and strikes a pose, which draws Minamitsu's attention (if with a grin to Cristallo). "Dooooon /shine/," Minamitsu says, with a game attempt to imitate the pose. Her hat almost falls off, and she has to push it back into place. "I'm Minamitsu! Nice to meetcha both. That show's different from The Game of Thrones, right??" To Cristallo and Riku both, she says, "There are /so/ many shows out there." Nazrin looks over towards Lilian when she mentions LobCorp, one ear twitching, but her mouth is full. She may be a lower mammal at heart, but she knows nobody needs to hear you talk through your dinner. Her eyes follow Lilian, though, resting on the sudden manifestation of TTT, but clearly being primarily focused on the intersection of Mesmer and Lilian.
Storm Investigators	Marcus and Greta both nod at Vertin, the former fumbling with her shades afterwards and the latter remembering to take hers off since she hasn't taken out any props yet to justify it. "There really are so many costumes here... Mm, it's very cute.  So many layers... Oh! Y-yes, Miss Vertin. You as well." "Of course. Thank you for hosting us, Timekeeper. Do call out if anything happens. I will be nearby." --- Spotting APPLe from the corner of her eye in his little mustached Freddy Mercury costume, Greta takes a peek over at Marcus to make sure she's still actively engaging anyone in conversation. She is! That gives the senior investigator an opportunity to slip away and give the floating ORANGe an approving nod. "Good taste." She comments, dryly as ever. No, even drier, since she's supposed to be an agent of a government agency that isn't even allowed to let people know she exists. She's definitely not holding her stare at APPLe just because a familiar-looking face and a familiar-sounding voice comes from James Bond greeting the floating apple as well. Behind her shades, though, she's totally doing a double-take. Since whend id celebrities end up here of all places? Even if there was that one director... "Monsieur Bond!" "Well well well, Mr. Bond...!" Keeping her head locked forward, Greta's gaze sloooowly slides over to Matilda, then to Bond again. Was that just a coincidence? Maybe, but she needs to be sure. "... Queen had quite the discography. A shame they haven't been inducted into the Hall of Fame yet, but perhaps after things settle down." A pause, and then she introduces herself to Bond: "Greta Hofmann, senior investigator. Or... Agent H, for today." --- "A-a-ahhhhhh... sh-should I not be??" "Eep! N-n-no, I'm sorry! I should be... If I'm interrupting something, I should-I can go...! MArcus panics as Poltergeist reacts quite strongly to her own presence, 'secretly' hoping Poltergeist does tell her she can. As she does that, she's also holding her hands up like she's trying to calm the shaking ghost while trembling some herself, and also trying to remember what she had read before about calming someone down. First step: Keep calm. Breathing in slowly, Marcus' teeth are still chattering a bit as she tries to at least look calm on the outside even if she isn't on the outside.. Second step: Ask what the person needs, and reassure them. "Do you need something?" She asks, stilted but at least sounding less freaked out than a few seconds ago. "Y.. You're doing great. I'm proud of you. Good job." Third step: Ask the person to repeat a simple, physically tiring task such as- "Can you.. Er. Please raise your hands over your head?" She's not sure how that's suspposed to help, exactly, but it's the directions as she read them long ago.
James Bond	Good evening... John Player.     "Tonight," says Bond, "It's Andretti. Good evening." Bond extends a white-gloved hand to shake Shou's in greeting.     Hm! That would, of course, be none other than me-! If it's any one person's vision, I'd say it's hers; much of it comes directly from her divining materials.     "Is that so?" asks Bond. "Well, you've all done a good job." ...there's just something to be said of taste and atmosphere instead of a prescriptivist approach to the correct Halloween symbols, you know?     Bond nods. "I was expecting plastic skeletons and theremin music. Not that I have an issue with those, but this is a pleasant surprise."     Monsieur Bond! What, erm, are you costumed as..?     "A formula one driver." He pauses, then adds, "Very possibly *the* formula one driver of our time. We have a saying about Lotus cars in England--that it stands for 'Lots of Trouble, Usually Serious.'" A dry smile. Of all the cars he's driven, he's never been behind the wheel of one of those. "When Andretti joined Team Lotus their machine wasn't very competitive at all. The company's own design engineer even famously told him they didn't have a good car for him. But he signed on anyway, because he loved the sport, and together the two of them put that company on the map."     "He's not just a brilliant driver--he's got a very technical mind. It was thanks in part to his input that Lotus put out one of the most influential cars in the history of the sport. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that he's a pioneer in the field of ground-effect aerodynamics." After a moment's thought, he adds, "The cars are still famously unreliable, however many Series their F1 division's won." If you do not misbehave, then I will have no reason to chase you, Matilda.     Bond doesn't need the punch to act improperly; it's only a value-add. "I don't think that the answer she wanted." I'll have you know I've been verrrry busy and verrrry helpful but it's all hush hush, mate. Secret agent type stuff.     Bond smirks and makes a show of wrinkling his nose. "You smell like the Olympic Pot Smoking Team had a practice session in that costume. Was that part of helping out too?"     A shame they haven't been inducted into the Hall of Fame yet, but perhaps after things settle down.     "I'm sure they'll outlive the relevancy of the Hall of Fame. I'd give it ten years or so."     Greta Hofmann, senior investigator.     "James Bond, Paladins Chevalier. Or Mario Andretti this evening. A pleasure to meet you, Agent H."
Tamamo	...a cheap, cheesy, white-and-red-cross 'sexy nurse' get-up, plasticky, with the collar zipped high.     Baffling. Tamamo would never have imagined this. Very quietly, "Is that...? If I had arrived in a miko costume..."     Moving outside, but well within sight of Lilian's trip to the buffet...     La Source leans forwards and scrunches up her nose to look up at Tamamo.     "I am known as Tamamo-no-mae, bunrei of--" Tamamo catches herself in her well-practiced introduction, and switches tracks, "--ah, no, tonight I am a very dangerous nurse, manifested from subconscious guilts and fears!" Even though she couldn't go through with the dirty, masked version of the costume. Posing once more with her suspiciously-colored syringes, Tamamo hopefully adds, "Do any come to mind?"     Gently pressing the plungers to be sure the air has escaped, thin pink and red streams also escape the needles for a moment. Whatever's in them has a fruit-sugary scent. "Your voice may be familiar. Ah, is it that we have already met...?"
Regulus	''You smell like the Olympic Pot Smoking Team had a practice session in that costume. Was that part of helping out too?'' "Mr. APPLe! Pat him on the shoulder for me." APPLe floats over. "With your permission, sir." And if Bond doesn't say 'no', he does take his stick figure hand and pat Bond on the shoulder. "That, Mr. Bond, was part of the post mission celebration! The life of a secret agent is hard and we must indulge in the pleasures of life to cope... Alas!" She giggles agian. "But funnnn...." She opens her mouth and turns her head, opening and closing her mouth like a gerbil until she's able to get the straw back in her mouth. APPLe floats off briefly and returns with a meat skewer which he helpfully holds out for Regulus to be able to chomp into without having to use her hands. ''Good taste.'' APPLe is distracted as Regulus gradually moves down the skewer with little chomps. "Oh, yes, he was actually after our time but Regulus and I have been gradually going through the discography of those we had, ah, ''just missed'' due to the Storm." APPLe immediately feels some empathy for Greta Hoffman as he observes her quietly watching out for Marcus. Clearly, he's not the only one whose primary responsibilities is making sure their arcanist is doing well. "If you have any suggestions, I'm sure the Captain would appreciate knowing which of their repertoire are particularly 'rocking'." It occurs to him that she might be particularly annoyed at Regulus for still not having signed on with the Foundation, but she doesn't seem to particularly care so he asks, "As a senior investigator, you are--ah--not here to collect the Captain are you? She's, er, very excited to help 'Team Timekeeper' as she puts it, so..." The orange is sweating a little. ''Miss Apple.'' APPLe says, "Ah, I am Mr. APPLe, thank you--Though if you meant Regulus, ah, she does not have a last name." Or specifically, Regulus refuses to share her actual name with anyone. LIKE A SECRET AGENT MIGHT DO?!
Foundation Scions	'If you do not misbehave, then I will have no reason to chase you, Matilda.'     Every time, Matilda earnestly gets her hopes up, and every time, she winds up withering up into a sad little husk. "A-ah. Well, then, erm, that is that, Investigator Sonetto! I- I am going to partake in the excellent spread of refreshments! Would you like me to get any..? A skewered kebab? A hand-held sandwich?" She wants to pull out of the conversation long enough to turn around, make a comically pained wincing face, and then rejoin the conversation refreshed and smiley again. Inadvisable, muttered, "Ahem- or... *you* could fetch such for me?"     Matilda, embarrassingly, points to Sonetto's dog ears, points a second time, and turns around to give up and get herself the food items instead. 'Guess you gotta get a little riled up first, Matilda! Better get to it!'     "Ms. Regulus, I- I will do no such thing!" Matilda's a bit red in the face at the embarrassing prospect! Sonetto may have just said she'd chase Matilda around if she was misbehaving, but from Sonetto, that's a bad thing! "I am exemplary at good behavior, in fact! Back in school, I was disciplined a most minimum number of times, in comparison to the class average!" Not zero, though. 'I don't think that the answer she wanted.'     Actually, Matilda dressed up like a teapot! See? She's squeaking like one, and hisses at Bond, as if trying to signal he back off- or she's just acting like a cat, right? Right? 'Jumping...?'     Finally! Phew! Back on the topic of her being cool! Even if 'excursion' hurts her soul for critical damage, "Erm, yes, actually, Ms. Regulus was, by coincidence, tasked to the same... 'excursion', that I was- it was quite a journey, but, a... skirmish occurred, which involved an inordinate amount of jumping, I must say! It was truly a lot, and very tiring." Matilda looks a little disappointed at this point in her explanation, actually- it didn't turn out in a way where she wasn't scolded by administration, even if she did try her best.
Tamamo	Also outside is Marcus.     A black suit and pants with a black tie, a white dress shirt, and a pair of slightly darkened shades. Both of them are dressed identically in such suits...     "Is that... the uniform A Vague Yet Ominous Government Organization?" That's probably not a real acronym, nor even a well-defined term, but it's something Tamamo's heard about on numerous occasions.
Foundation Scions	'The cars are still famously unreliable, however many Series their F1 division's won.'     "Hm! He clearly must not have been that excellent of a technically-minded genius, then-! But- erm, thank you for the explanation! I suppose that makes your costume out to be a quite very-good one, no?" A little uncertain pause, and, hushed, like it's a secret, "What do the cars have to do with lotus flowers, however?"
Timekeeper	"Don't."     "Yep! Got it!" TTT mimes out crossing her arms in an X in front of her chest overdramatically, leaning forwards at the hips and sticking her butt out backwards(?) for emphasis. Headless as she is, she's miming like she's also voiceless, but her voice does come through the speakers like normal! "The host?"     "The one and only! But hey, if you're enjoying yourselves, I bet that's all she wanted out of this anyways?" A pixellated pop happens on screen next to TTT, manifesting a sprite of a cartoonish bar for her to lean her elbow against. "Well, if not the big TK, then what brings you 'round here? You come here often? Haha! But seriously!" "He knew exactly what breed of apple to make as the costume and made sure it looked appropriately delish!"     Vertin covers her mouth with her lacy gloved fingers, smiling. "Do be careful not to get eaten, Regulus. I've got need for you yet."     Having the parasol inside seems like it'd be a hassle, but with how often Vertin has one hand occupied carrying her suitcase, this just feels natural. It rests easily on her shoulders, occasionally twirling it between her fingers, whether she's inside or outside."Is 'Poltergeist' present?"     "Ah-- she's outdoors somewhere, I believe. Do be gentle when calling out to her; she's rather unused to parties." "I was expecting plastic skeletons and theremin music."     Vertin ends up settling into place nearby Bond. Contrary to her currently delicate image, her choice of seating is on the arm of one of the couches by the karaoke machine, thighs neatly crossed under the many layers of lacy ruffled skirts. "Is that so? I can't say either Matilda or I had any personal experience with the usual traditions. That did seem to be the general decor of the costume shop that I went to for La Source, however." "The cars are still famously unreliable, however many Series their F1 division's won."     Vertin is attentive, of all things, to the Formula One racing lore, though it's hard to tell how she feels while listening to it. "Famously influential, but still unreliable? I see. I'm not knowledgeable about racing, but an underdog story is all the more compelling when a pair of them work together to achieve stardom, isn't it?" "Ahem- or... *you* could fetch such for me?"     Sonetto looks increasingly bemused by Matilda's chatter, until something seems to suddenly click inside of her brain. With absolutely no indication on why she's made this decision, she nods just as Matilda is turning away to do it herself, and cheerfully says, "Is that the case? Then I would not mind 'fetching' your dinner, so long as you do not mind me obtaining my own while I am there, Matilda."     And then she just starts doing that. She's even particularly attentive to the scattershot rambling of what Matilda said she might have wanted! There's still no explanation for why. "Back in school, I was disciplined a most minimum number of times, in comparison to the class average!"     Sonetto hesitates while loading up a kebab onto Matilda's plate. She looks over at where Vertin is talking to Bond for just a moment, uneasy, before returning her attention to the buffet. "I am certain that the circumstances that may lead to your misbehavior would not occur here." Sonetto has taken several big sips of her twice-spiked punch and made no comment about it. "I don't think that the answer she wanted."     Sonetto looks over at Bond, tilting her head in puzzlement. This makes her dog-ear headband slip a little bit. "Why? Is there something I am misunderstanding?"
Lilian Rook	'Ah, I am only looking out for partygoers who behave in inappropriate or disorderly ways due to the influence of shamelessness or imbibement in order to apprehend them before they can cause trouble.'     Oh . . . Sonetto . . .     Well, Lilian smiles and tries to look approving. She's doing what she thinks is right. It's just a shame that Matilda will somehow have to try even harder. Lilian considers the option of spiking the punch a little. Just to get things going.     'I had thought that Ms. Sonetto might not dress up at all."'     "Oh that'd just have been far too sad . . ." Lilian gossips back. "I'm so very glad that she feels some respect for the festive occasion despite everything. Even if you have to squint a little, she's such a good girl, isn't she?"     'Have you seen the outside areas, before? It was not open the first time of our meeting here, as I faintly recall.'     "Ahaha~ I happened to be there when it first opened up, actually~" Lilian says, unduly proudly, as if she did anything remotely important at the time, while hanging off of Tamamo's arm. "We're still working out where it even came from, or how long it'd been there." Nobody is really 'working on it'; it's a giant shrug. "But you'd be shocked at how far it goes on for. And the variety! I'm frankly quite jealous; even if it's of very little utility, carrying around your own private wilderness retreat is just something no one would ever dream of ordinarily!"     'I ordered it off of UTTU's catalogue some time ago.'     "Just for the sake of it?" Lilian asks. The subject is enough to make her look away from Tamamo. Her eyes say 'incredulous', but her tone says 'impressed'. "What sort of catalogue is UTTU? Do you actually happen to have an interest in fashion?" What should be small-talk vibrates with the undercurrent of keen attention.     'Matilda's quite skilled in the matter, I found. If it's any one person's vision, I'd say it's hers; much of it comes directly from her divining materials.'     "Knew she had potential~" Lilian grins dangerously in Matilda's direction just overhearing that bit of information. She'd been talking with Petra about it, after all; ever since that incident with the DEET and the laser beams.     'My throat is a bit dry, as it happens. A kebab sounds lovely, as well.'     "Coming right up~" And so Lilian hustles away. Normally she'd just make punch and sundry appear on a nearby surface, but she's being social right now.     'Hey that costume's fab as all out, and it looks familiar!'     Lilian waves back at Regulus on her way to the buffet table. "It was Dimo's idea. I'm glad you recognize it." she says, not explaining any better than that. She just got a compliment, so her confidence is right back up and she's moving at a strut, sparing just a moment for an enthusiastic (British) wave in Bond's direction, and "My my, you're even getting out to social functions now? I'd never have imagined."     'Erm, yes, actually, Ms. Regulus was, by coincidence, tasked to the same... 'excursion', that I was-'     "You were excellent, by the way!" Lilian calls back in Matilda's direction, just as she arrives.     . . . . . . . .
Lilian Rook	'Heyyyy, you twooo! Wowwww, who woulda expected the Mesmer to show up to a function like this?'     It's TTT who snaps Lilian out of it first. The little saccade as she glances in the direction of the other voice, then right back, is a glaring neon streak, dressed like this; not only obviously quicker than is normal, but flicking up and down Mesmer's body, twice, and back to TTT. 'The Mesmer' registers a half-second later, and Lilian remembers to breathe. Her shoulders visibly relax at what she takes as a little sign that TTT is 'on her side' here. "Indeed. Who would?" she replies, not yet willing to turn away and risk acquiring plates. She'll do that in a few seconds, when everything is under--     'Don't stutter and trail off- what can't you believe?'     "--Oh fuck me." Lilian huffs into the back of her hand. Failing the check to roll her eyes, she stares, unblinking, at the side of the table, gaze averted from Mesmer over the top of her hand. "To celebrate with a new friend, obviously." Lilian says, followed by rising to the challenge with, "What I can't believe is that you came here dressed like--" She can't help but look back at the subject of her assertion. The remaining air escapes her lungs in a very soft wheeze. She flips her hand back over to pinch her nose in accidental mirror, then drops it to her side when she sees Mesmer doing it first. "Are you joking? Do I actually have to say it?" She isn't even really sure what 'it' is. The first thing cleanly pulled out of the chaotic snarl that is currently her mental stack is: "You work in a rehab ward for Christ's sake!", delivered along with one-handed gesticulation.     'I suppose there wasn't a bouncer to check invitations- stop staring at me like that. It's unpleasant.'     Lilian opens her mouth to object solely to Mesmer's tone. The word "I--" squeaks its way out before she sees Mesmer suddenly take a posture that she can only interpret as defensively covering herself up, and the rest of the sentence is choked to death in her throat. Another neon green saccade triple checks that nightmarishly weird nurse outfit is still actually real, and then Lilian, buries her face in both hands and--
Lilian Rook	-----[stop]-----     --squeals in frustration, rasping all the way up into an utterly baffled semi-shriek, like an evil steam engine. Pulling her hands away from her face, she shouts to the 'empty' room, silent as the grave, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"     Lilian throws both arms up in the air, beseeching the divine. "Are you drunk?! Already?! Where did you even get that?! It's nineteen-twenty-eight!" Pitched up into the type of stage performance on delivers with the words 'has god forsaken me', she repeats "What's wrong with you?!" dragged out on the last syllable, and then has to get out the rest of the wave-crash of utterly psychotic energy that's suddenly come over her by pacing around the room.     "Why are you dressing up as a nurse?! Because I called you a nurse before?! That's insane! Aren't you a surgeon?! Or a psychiatrist or something?!" Lilian shouts, totally sanely. "You couldn't just get some scrubs from Laplace?! Really?! You absolute whore!" Completely ignorant of the shapes she's moving between, like grey bollards on an impromptu obstacle course, Lilian doesn't even bother to specify Mesmer; she can't hear her anyways. "What's wrong with you?!" comes out a third time. "Is this just to get my attention?! Because it worked! Are you mad I didn't do anything to you in that liquor store parking lot at three-AM you fucking psychopath?! Get away from me! God! Jesus Christ! What do you want?!"     Lilian falls to crossing her arms now, rubbing her arms as if to warm up, trying to ward away adrenaline goosebumps and shivers. "No. No way. No she's drunk and stupid and a disaster and-- come on this is the most obvious cry for help I've ever seen, and she just--" Lilian glances around uninformatively. "Nobody is saying anything? Really?! Does she expect therapy from me?! Why can't she say something normally?! No way! No no no no nooooo no no nonono no! No way! Whatever your game is, I'm not falling for it!"     She returns to her original place slightly out of breath. Quicky smoothing down her hair and outfit, Lilian places her fingers on her collar, takes a few steadying breaths, and grimaces as she obligingly presses her hands back over her face. Just a second later, she--                 -----[start]-----     --pulls them away again with a truncated sigh of long-suffering tolerance. "How are you already smashed? Can't you behave with some dignity for a change?" she says, grimacing, then finally turning aside to fill two cups and load up one plate (to share off of). "No, I suppose you can't. You deliberately chose to poorly mimic my fiancée's costume, after all. It's tacky. Get changed." she huffs, then turns to try and escape before anything any dumber can happen. She just can't help but mutter "Freak. Oh my god." under her breath.
Storm Investigators	"I'd give it ten years or so." "I'd hope so, even if such awards feel meaningless at times. If they haven't been inducted by now, ^I have to wonder if the people deciding who does get in even listen to music." She lets out the slightest annoyed grunt at that, then clears her throat. "... If only we could afford to only be worried about such things." "James Bond, Paladins Chevalier." That's certainly the kind of confirmation Greta was hoping for and even expecting, but she's still momentarily stunned by hearing it out loud. Her poker face is as still as ever, although it does take her a second to nod once in greeting (about half a second more than usual). "Likewise, Mister Andretti. I look forward to seeing you on the racetrack." "Oh, yes, he was actually after our time" For once, Greta is actually the one that's grateful for a distraction. Finding herself at a loss for words around Bond, she instead turns to the orange APPLe with a slow nod. "We've all missed quite a lot since the Storms of our times, but it does streamline finding the best ones." She pauses, then remembers to put her shades on to match Marcus way over there. I admit, though, being able to find those so easily takes away some of the satisfaction of discovering them. Hasselhoff may be more difficult to find physical records for, but I've heard your Captain is quite adept at using the internet already." "you are--ah--not here to collect the Captain are you?" That, meanwhile, has Greta shaking her head as well. "Outside of my role. My job is to investigate the Storm, and to guide Marcus' growth into a proper Investigator even when I am not around. Chasing after potential recruits on top of all that, especially those that can turn invisible, would not be effective nor efficient towards accomplishing either of those goals." "Is that... the uniform A Vague Yet Ominous Government Organization?" Uh oh, another person is talking to her! Marcus straightens up a bit more as she reminds herself to turn around slowly instead of suddenly, partially because it's just polite to Tamamo, and partially because she shouldn't scare Poltergeist any more than she already has. "Y.. Yes, ma'am! We are-oh. Wait, Madam Hofmann said this was... A secret organization? But if it is one that is dedicated to protecting peace between humans and extraterrestrials..." Even behind her shades, Tamamo can see Marcus furrowing her brow deep in thought. "Then being ominous would be a problem, wouldn't it?" She asks, looking back at Tamamo a moment later and only then noticing her white nurse costume. "Medical staff... Oh, perhaps that would be a better look. If this agency were to look more like doctors than secret agents, then..." She trails off a moment later, only then noticing the suspiciously colored needles. Her face freezes up and she clams up again, visibly intimidated by both mysterious syringe fillings and also needles. "Those are... Just dyes and water, right?" She's totally reading what's in Tamamo's syringes, even though she's pretty sure it's completely safe.
James Bond	I admit, though, being able to find those so easily takes away some of the satisfaction of discovering them.      Bond nods and frowns sympathetically. "I can imagine," he says. "Just try to keep in mind that what makes it to the radio is just a small fraction of what's out there. Whatever else you can say about Regulus, she's very good at researching and tracking down music." The life of a secret agent is hard and we must indulge in the pleasures of life to cope...     If Regulus weren't dressed as a giant apple, drinking out of a beer hat and reeking of marijuana, Bond would think she were making fun of him. "Your straws are dripping," he advises. "You should cope with that first." My my, you're even getting out to social functions now? I'd never have imagined.     "I get out to plenty of social functions," Bond asserts. "Just not many where there aren't any arms dealers, warlords or criminal financiers in attendance. Your costume's quite good, by the way. Did I hear you say it was Dimo's idea?" I suppose that makes your costume out to be a quite very-good one, no? ...an underdog story is all the more compelling when a pair of them work together to achieve stardom, isn't it?     "There's something about his story for everyone, I think. People like it when someone succeeds from humble beginnings. The owner of the company was also the head engineer, and he built his first car out of a shed with some friends. Andretti joined Team Lotus after *his* previous team dissolved." What do the cars have to do with lotus flowers, however?     That draws a faint, bittersweet kind of smile. People *also* love a mystery, don't they? "No one really knows, except for the owner of the company, or maybe his widow," Bond says, sipping punch. "Some people say he liked Eastern philosophy. Other people say he and his friends falling asleep working on the first car they made, and decided to name it after the Greek lotus-eaters. Maybe it's short for Lot Unsold, back from when the gas shortage hurt car sales." Why? Is there something I am misunderstanding?     Bond looks between Matilda and Sonetto, focusing on Matilda longer between the two. The teapot squeaking settles it. "Yes," he says, after his attention returns to Sonetto. "But I'm not at liberty to say what it is. Excuse me." He heads outside to take a seat at one of the tables with his food. He might be back for more mischief. Actually, since Mesmer is here, he probably will be.
Timekeeper	"Haha, sorry, it's a famous show from where I'm from, so when people take an interest, I can't help but do the pose."     "Oh- my apologies for talking over you." Cristallo touches her hand to her opposite wrist, smiling awkwardly. Still sustained by her energy, she redirects it towards praise at Riku's costume too. "I don't think I've seen anything like that before. That's armor, isn't it? Is it a cartoon?" "Is Netflix like a Pod Cast?"     Having only learned about the magic of streaming services recently, Cristallo is happy to lore dump about the future to someone who, despite being offworld, doesn't know about it. "It's similar to normal television channels, but you don't have to wait for any show's airing time. They're all available, every episode, whenever you'd like to see them. It's-- ahem-- very remarkable, really." After talking so much, she has to take a sip from her water bottle to stop her coughing and watering eyes. "If I'm interrupting something, I should-I can go...!     "A-a-ahh.h.... nooo... I'm not planning anything...." Poltergeist quivers, still uncertain if she's being accused. This is despite the fact that Marcus is among the people that she feels most positively towards, after her rescue from the beach in 1928-- she's just like this! Marcus's strange but kind(?) comments continue to calm her down a bit, right up until the last. "Please raise your hands over your head?"     "Eeep?! Am I-I under arrest?!" Poltergeist raises her sheet-covered hands up, and-- oh my god there's feet under there. She's wearing sandals, apparently, and her skin is uncomfortably corpse-pale. "--ah, no, tonight I am a very dangerous nurse, manifested from subconscious guilts and fears!"     La Source gasps in shock and recoils, pointing emphatically at Tamamo with one quaking finger. "What?! You're dangerous?! Huh?? I've never heard of that. Verrrrtin! Verrtiiiiiin! There's a weeeirdo-!"     La Source hastily totters around Tamamo to dodge her, and then once Tamamo's not blocking the way, she can look through the glass wall of the sunroom to see that, in fact, everyone surrounding Vertin is also dressed up funny. There's even another nurse in there, though La Source can only dimly draw an aesthetic connection between the two. She narrows her eyes and turns back around to Tamamo, pink-faced but unwilling to admit her fault.     "Ohhh. You're *lying*. Well. *I* can do that too." All her anger vanishes in an instant and she twirls around, bouncing up and down to make the plastic wings on the back of her gold glittery dress flap. She insistently twists her torso back and forth to keep them moving until Tamamo praises her for it.     "Today, instead of being the magnififent and wise and powerful Spring Elfin, *I* am a Tinkerbell." She says this like it's a species instead of a cartoon character. "You probably don't know any because you're a mortal but I've made friends with lots and lots of tinkerbells." La Source has no recollection at all of talking in the radio to Tamamo, though she says 'Spring Elfin' followed by her name so many times that Tamamo surely could pick up on it.
Riku Asakura	"Oh no, Don Shine is an older show from Japan, whereas Game of Thrones is a show from America," Riku explains to Minamitsu.  "But yeah, there are a LOT of shows out there," he laughs a little, getting the bit of nervousness out of the way.  "Anyway, it's nice to meet you, Minamitsu. I like the pirate look!" "Don Shine is about a hero named Don Shine battling the forces of darkness.  Such as Commander Baseball!  In Episode forty-five of Don Shine has to battle him in a game of baseball to free civilians trapped at a baseball stadium.  It's a high-impact scene!" "Oh, no need to appologize.  We all get focused on our fandoms!" he says with a laugh.
Lilian Rook	'Just not many where there aren't any arms dealers, warlords or criminal financiers in attendance.'     "Careful now. You never know." Lilian says, hastily trying to separate herself from the Mesmer Corner Combo. "And you could at least say it was her idea. I was almost sort-of tricked into it. You know how it goes." she says, nonsensical. "She was 'eager to consult'. Ah, but it does look quite a bit Silver, doesn't it?"     'What?! You're dangerous?! Huh?? I've never heard of that. Verrrrtin! Verrtiiiiiin! There's a weeeirdo-!'     Oh god of all the people to go and harass Tamamo while Lilian is away, it had to be La Source. Drinking an entire cup of punch in one go to steel herself, paying too little attention to just how oddly tannic it is, Lilian chants a very important mantra inside her mind at the point she tries to rush off and away from TTT's favourite thing to watch.     §I will not throw down with a nine year old. I will not throw down with a nine year old. Even if she blasts Tamamo with water or something like that, I will still not throw down with a nine year old. Nothing she can do is worth incurring the reputation of someone who throws down with a nine year old in response.§
UFO Gang	Shou accepts James' handshake with a small smile. She is able to speak again without terror of wrong speech anew: "Mr. Andretti. It's quite a costume." The rest draws her interest, and her eyebrows raise at the mention of LOTUS, but the context makes it clear... a racing team. "Oh, of course," Shou comments to APPLe when he clarifies just who is the APPLe of truth. "I did mean her... hm." Another slice of bell pepper is picked up, and Shou's eyes flick to the vegetable-and-fruit spread. Perhaps she's looking for an apple slice, to /avoid/. It would be gauche. "Your cooperation's quite impressive." ("And I had wondered that myself, Mr. Andretti," Shou adds when Matilda inquires.) But the mystery is... That it's a mystery. "The lotus grows deep in the muck and filth; yet it blooms in immaculate perfection," Shou says, half to herself, even as Bond moves forth. Nazrin sidles a bit to the side and begins to eat her cheese. This is already one of the better parties she's been to. Now her eyes are tracking La Source. Out in the yard -- Minamitsu purses her lips at what Cristallo speaks. Nodding, nodding. About the shows -- "So you don't even need the disk. That'd be really handy... but you'd have a really hard time picking, wouldn't you?" After this, Riku's enthusiasm seems to be contagious. ("woah, forty-five episodes?") Her brow furrows deeply. She nods... and says, with portent, "I should get into a fandom, now that we're not out in the ocean." A beat or two passes. "Oh," she says, lowering her voice. "Uh. Do either of you know 'Poltergeist'...? I wanted to say hi to her, but it sounds like she's shy."
Regulus	''I was disciplined a most minimum number of times, in comparision to the class average!'' "So not zero times, then." Regulus teases but then is startled by the natural logical conclusion of Matilda's words. "Wait, less than Sonetto even?" Regulus didn't get scolded by administration because she doesn't work for them and they'd probably have zero expectations of her anyway. Regulus wins again!! ''Matilda looks a little disappointed.'' "A lot of people seemed--" Lilian shouts that MAtilda was excellent so Regulus just gestures towards her between munchings. ''It was Dimo's idea.'' "Oh!" Regulus's eyes widen behind her shades which dip a little and stay that way while APPLe is too busy about her getting arrested to actually push them back up for her. "That's right, you and Dimo were talking about that. Dimo's great. Hope I get to see her again. This party's a lot bigger than I expected." But it's nice! That it is. Regulus is often stuck in the Suitcase so situations like this means she feels about as social as she was before her reality got reversed. It really eases the blow a bit, though it isn't so long since it happened that she doesn't get a small emotional tremor when she thinks about it. Regulus is a creature about looking forward, though, she doesn't like looking back, she doesn't care to share her backstory, and she doesn't think it's relevant. ''I've heard your Captain is quite adept at using the internet already.'' "The Captain adapts quickly, though I couldn't tell you how adept she is at the internet. Her websites, erm--" His loyalty to Regulus prevents him from saying 'are a bit fucky' but Greta can probably get the implication. "How did you come upon Miss Marcus? She seems--" He tries to consider a word that feels accurate and also understated. "--comfortable by your side." With all that stammering though this might be a strange thing for him to say. "But that is a relief to hear, Agent H." He dips his body like he's bowing to her. ''You should cope with that first.'' "Ack! Mr. APPLe! I need your help, we've sprung a leak!" APPLe dutifully dips briefly away from Hoffman to push the straw back into Regulus's mouth. "Your stomach may regret this later," He says. "Halloween is a day to earn some fun regrets." Regulus counters before looking back to Bond. "So you are, like, actually like James Bond from the films? Or did they make the movies to dramatize your life?" She glances over towards the outside. She might intend to check in on Poltergeist soon.
Lilian Rook	'So not zero times, then.'     "Come off it. Don't be like that. Everyone gets disciplined in school." Lilian says, much more leaky than she is defensive of Matilda right now. She does at least seem satisfied that Regulus has properly jogged her memory about her costume's origins, though. Not that she was hoping to impress anyone (she was, a little) but Lilian would feel a bit worried if nobody could recognize her best attempts to Respect A Culture here.     Nervously trying to keep everything under control, Lilian quickly refills the cup she just drained, waves to Tamamo, and gestures towards the outdoors; perhaps suggesting the campfire and smores, where nothing stupid can happen. Surely.
Storm Investigators	"Am I-I under arrest?!" Poltergeist is calming down! Yay! Having finally settled into some kind of calm and friendly routine with one of the few people around here that doesn't set off her anxiety, Marcus is allowed to smile in relief for precisely two seconds. Two seconds later, she fumbles the back, and now Poltergeist is scared again. "H-huh?! No, no, you're not under any arrest! Um. I do not believe the Men in Black have that kind of power...?" She looks over at Greta way over there, who misreads the glance as seeking some kind of reassurance and gives Marcus a reassuring nod. Sweating in her fake suit, Marcus keeps her own hands held up regardless in a show of non-threateningness! "Well.. Er. Do not worry, Miss Poltergeist. There will be no arrests made here today, because you've done nothing wrong, and this is.. A party. For fun, and for friends!" Marcus chuckles awkwardly, then clears her throat again while looking over at La Source shouting at Vertin about Tamamo's dangerous weirdness. Stunned in confusion for another moment after that, Marcus eventually settles for rubbing her arm just so one her hands has something to do. "Er... Are you settling in alright? I have not had much time to come here, but it's... It seems nice here. Loud, though." A longer pause, and then Marcus finally remembers: Oh, um. You don't have to hold your arms up. I read that it is supposed to help calm people by tiring them out, but... is it working?" A second later, Marcus holds her own arms up to test that out. She's already (relatively) calm when she starts, so it's hard for her to notice. --- "Her websites, erm--" "I'm looking forward to the music button working one day." Greta gets the message, and she nods slowly while sounding like she's not expecting anything in the slightest about that. "How did you come upon Miss Marcus?" "By chance. Laplace and the Foundation were starting a joint research project in ley lines on the Flannan Isles, and I happened to find her working out of a lighthouse there. She was writing for a newspaper about the history of the isles, and we spoke about her writing, her goals, her reasons." Greta lets herself reminisce about the past briefly as she looks over at Marcus, who's at least looking calmer than before (for now). There's a brief flicker of a smile on her face, but she keeps it tamped down before she can get too ahead of herself. "That talk lit a spark in her, and she joined the Foundation shortly before the Storm hit. I would hope she's comfortable around me, although it'd be best if she could feel the same around anyone else."
Foundation Scions	'But hey, if you're enjoying yourselves, I bet that's all she wanted out of this anyways?'     "What a relief." Dry, nasal, sarcastic. "If I start to, I'll let her know, that her scheme has proven successful. Hopefully nobody dies, this time." 'You come here often? Haha! But seriously!'     Mesmer Jr. gestures at TTT, waving her away with a flask in-hand, "I don't come here often, and I won't make a habit of it. It just fell on a day I'm not working, and, it's theoretically beneficial to morale and sentiment to unwind once in a while." Is that what she's doing? Unwinging? And not just hovering around acquaintances she's not very social with, for some reason or another, already drunk and getting worse? 'You work in a rehab ward for Christ's sake!'     "I'm not on-call right now." Mesmer maintains eye-contact as she takes an uncomfortably large swig from her stupid hip-flask. That wasn't the point even in the slightest. 'I--'     For the second time, Mesmer has an immediate reaction to the shift in Lilian's state, from her calming herself down in stopped time- startled and uncomfortable, like she'd reel if there was a direction meaningfully 'away' from the sensation. It's disconcerting enough to stop her from doing the unhinged covering-up motion, but only because she's staring, confused and worried, somewhere in Lilian's direction. 'You deliberately chose to poorly mimic my fiancée's costume, after all.'     "Excuse me?" Mesmer saw Tamamo, earlier, with noteworthy annoyance at spotting someone else in attendance with a similar costume, but the confusion is genuine- "I did no such thing." It'd be good if she stopped there, but she doesn't, of course she doesn't, "This is the first I've heard of you being engaged. Should I say congratulations?" Okay, stop there, maybe? Pull up?     Mesmer squints, and turns her torso defensively away- "Should I be alarmed you dressed her as me? I am, a bit. It's uncomfortably parasocial."     "I didn't bring a set of spare clothes, either way. And even if I had, it's hardly fair to say I'm the one who ought to. The needles I brought aren't toys." Mesmer gestures with the handbag, obviously too small. While it's still in her focus, she opens the bag up- inside, it's clear, a large part of the volume is taken up by her K-tope Calibrator, oh god, there are capped needles, as well as a name badge she's never been seen wearing, the flask, and a metal-sided cigarette case- not because she rolls her own, but because having a pack sitting in her purse would be embarrassing, especially if it matched the brand encoded in her tattoo. The case comes out, and her fingers drum on it-     "What did you dress as? If there's something to be understood..." A dismissive sigh. "Off-worlder media reference, I'd assume? That must have taken a long time." Is that judgement or praise?     Mesmer opens up the cigarette case, thumbs one out, and taps it, and stares, uncertain- before, confusingly, holding it out towards Lilian, offered without explanation to her reasoning. Visible inside the cigarette-case is a small plastic bag of assorted pills- what the fuck? It's not part of her costume, like the scalpels, is it?
Tamamo	'... A secret organization?'     "Can an organization be vague and ominous without being secret? I had not properly considered the matter. I should ask 'him' at the next opportunity." 'Him'? How ominously vague.     '...protecting peace between humans and extraterrestrials...'     "Oh, I see! That is quite a different thing, after all, then. Ah, but why would protecting peace be secretive...? Or else, is it the extraterrestrials that are secretive? Is it the peace brought by not knowing of the presence of the Other?" Tamamo's not seen that film, but she's thought about similar things on more than a few occasions.     '... Just dyes and water, right?'     "Oh, no! They are not 'just.'" Super-investigative deductive powers can here determine: Those syringes are filled with very concentrated fruit juice and dyes. It's practically syrup. Someone would probably choke if they drank it without dilution, and being jabbed with that much sugar to the bloodstream would not be healthy. Being jabbed with water wouldn't be healthy, either, of course.     'There will be no arrests made here today, because you've done nothing wrong, and this is...'     "Do you, ah... make arrests, usually?" She's a little fuzzy on the specific roles and responsibilities of investigators.
Foundation Scions	'Is that the case? Then I would not mind 'fetching' your dinner, so long as you do not mind me obtaining my own while I am there, Matilda.'     Eyes-wide, Matilda looks like she might just fist-pump in victory at Sonetto performing One (1) assistant-like (or dog-like) task for her. Failing to speak casually, "A-ah, but of course I don't mind!" 'I am certain that the circumstances that may lead to your misbehavior would not occur here.'     Quiet, Matilda just, nods to that? As to the kebab- "Merci beaucoup- er, or should I say, 'good dog'?" Rushed, immediate, she replaces that with a second instance of "Merci, Sonetto!" Phew! 'So not zero times, then.'     Despite Matilda being the one to bring up that specific point, she looks embarrassed, and a bit pained- "Erm- it is as Investigator Sonetto stated! It is unlikely to occur, here!" 'Knew she had potential~'     Matilda has a radar for positive attention-! Actually, no, she has a specific sense for familiar origins of arcane flux, even just ambient and tied to people she knows- at that, Matilda turns, and waves to Lilian-! Of course she has potential, and she's potential-fully polite, and- "Oh, super- Ms. Rook! Your costume! So, so many parts..." She, also, doesn't know what it is Lilian's dressed to represent, but it's fascinating! 'No one really knows, except for the owner of the company, or maybe his widow,'     Gasping- "Mon dieu- do you think she, erm, did the deed, to preserve the secret..?" As Bond continues, she starts to snicker, instead, actually- 'Lot Unsold' gets her. 'But I'm not at liberty to say what it is. Excuse me.'     Quietly, Matilda mutters a small 'Thank you,' Bond's way, certain, no doubt, that despite the spirit of his potential explanation, such things could only be muddied and dis-clarified with Sonetto. That is the curse. 'Halloween is a day to earn some fun regrets.'     Interjecting, again- "Fun things that you will regret? Ms. Regulus, given your sentiments, I am certain that a registration with the St. Pavlov Foundation would one day be something a ne'er-do-well of your ilk may say she regrets-! Might I suggest it? Given the spirit of the hallowed day?"
Timekeeper	"I'm frankly quite jealous; even if it's of very little utility, carrying around your own private wilderness retreat is just something no one would ever dream of ordinarily!"     Vertin nods, silently pleased with her neutral expression. She kicks her feet a little, dangling off the arm of the couch. "I haven't the resources to fully survey it at the moment, but it's over a thousand hectares. That much space alone is remarkably valuable, so far as I can come up with ways to use it. And it's all rather beautiful, isn't it?" "What sort of catalogue is UTTU?     "It's an arcanist-written and arcanist-centric magazine. Rather, the only one, that's been extant across the whole of the twentieth century, at least. My copy is upstairs in my office." She doesn't think to elaborate on only having the one. "'Art' is its framing device, and so artists are often spotlighted in many issues. Not specifically fashion, it tends to shift with the era, and between publications."     Her answer to Lilian's real question comes slowly, with a little hesitation and evasiveness. "It's rare that I have an opportunity to dress in any particular way besides my uniform. And it's not as though I'm straining to; I'm rather fond of the uniform as well. But you could perhaps consider it a recreational interest of mine, yes."
Tamamo	'Verrrrtin! Verrtiiiiiin! There's a weeeirdo-!'     Oh, dear.     'You're *lying*. Well. *I* can do that too.'     With an encouraging smile, "By all means!"     ...bouncing up and down to make the plastic wings on the back of her gold glittery dress flap.     'Today, instead of being the magnififent and wise and powerful Spring Elfin, *I* am a Tinkerbell.'     "Oho, wonderful! You have the very wings of a tinkerbell, I can tell, though I have not seen their like before." The latter statement is true. Tamamo's never seen Halloween costume store plastic wings before. She's seen fairies before, but they were almost always huge jerks, to be frank about it, and her memory doesn't incline her to place them above Party City.     "Are manifestations of the subconscious mortal? Hm..." Tamamo slides the syringes into a thigh holster like that's a perfectly natural motion to have practiced, and puts a finger to her chin. "If they arise from a mortal, then I suppose they must be. Yes," she nods, "and that makes me a mortal, tonight." She's weirdly pleased about that.     "In that case, I am pleased to meet you, o great Tinkerbell. I shall be Tamamo-no-mae still, tomorrow, in case you should remember it."     Lilian quickly refills the cup she just drained, waves to Tamamo, and gestures towards the outdoors.     Tamamo half-turns to return the wave, then says to the (present) Tinkerbell, "It seems Lilian wishes for me to attend toward the campfire, with drinks. I have been awaiting a chance to resolve a dryness of my throat -- that is to say, I was rather thirsty. Will you also be attending to the refreshments?" She can begin moving over there in just a moment, but since there's no emergency, she won't just rush away from La Source. It's a little relieving. She got a bit worried on seeing Lilian walking over to Mesmer. Who knows what could happen.     TTT definitely knows what happened, but she would charge for the story. Perhaps... she'll think about that later.
Storm Investigators	"I should ask 'him' at the next opportunity." "H... Him?" Marcus is starting to get nervous again when Tamamo gets ominously vague, but thank goodness she still has those shades on! That's sure to help her look cool and collected. "Would that be a... 'Friend' of yours? One that might know... 'Things'?" Marcus asks, doing airquotes except her timing is off and she just ends up hooking her fingers every other word. "secretive...?" That has Marcus pursing her lips, but not in a bad way. Tamamo's really got her brain going there! "Perhaps... Yes, I would think the extraterrestrials are the secretive ones. Perhaps they do not want to be found or seen by most people? I can understand that feeling, at least... Oh, but if knowledge of their presence itself is disruptive, then withholding their presence entirely..." Marcus pauses, closing her eyes and wiggling slightly as she puts that thought through her head a few more times. "Hiding it would be... No, that would be more disruptive in the long run. It would be less disruptive if epople knew about them and could become used to them, so that... So that they can understand each other better, and then potential disruptions could be solved before they start. I... Do you think that would work, Madam Tamamo?" Tamamo's mysterious syringe juice! "So much juice in those... Would it taste as sweet as those candies from the bowls? Or that punch from the entrance..." Marcus glances back towards the sunroom, suddenly feeling a little thirsty.  She doesn't go there, though, at least not on her own. "Do you, ah... make arrests, usually?" Finally, an easy question! Marcus shakes her head quickly, even looking a little relieved. "Not usually, no. Or.. Ever, actually. My arcane skill does not help me with that, so my main job is reading." She replies with similar relief. "Reading what is... Um. What is on the field, so I can provide data for research and investigation into the Storm. Arrests would be more effectively done by our combat specialists, such as Razor squad."
Lilian Rook	'And it's all rather beautiful, isn't it?'     "It's gorgeous, Vertin." Lilian says. For just a moment, she summons up such a wave of sincerity that it surprises even herself, forcing out a little smile. "Every bit of it."     ''Art' is its framing device, and so artists are often spotlighted in many issues. Not specifically fashion, it tends to shift with the era, and between publications.'     Vertin's heroine protagonist HUD shows a green number next to Lilian's portrait while mentally browsing items categorized as 'vendor'. It has a times-two multiplier for matching multiple of her bio-page's list of interests. "Oh my. Do you think they'd let me have a copy?" she says, a tiny bit nervous, like it's an 'arcanist-centric' magazine because they won't let humans read it. "That'd be . . . oh that sounds just fascinating."     'But you could perhaps consider it a recreational interest of mine, yes.'     "Goodness. I'd shake your hand if not for--" Lilian wiggles her glinting claws and smiles. "I adore your lipstick; let me say that before I forget. I've been thinking about it since I got in."     'Oh, super- Ms. Rook! Your costume! So, so many parts...'     "Thank you, thank you~" Lilian gets to soak up a little more positivity first. "I think it's likely my second-finest work. You've no idea how difficult it was to get the Silver eye luminescence down without blinding myself, trust me." Briefly cupping her cheek with her mechanical-organic bladepoint fingers, Lilian says, "Mmm, she's right. Could draw a line right down the middle." at something nonspecific, while staring at Matilda. Then, just before she leaves, Lilian whispers, "Brake. 'Good dog' is for much further ahead than you are."     . . . . . . . .     'Excuse me?'     Mesmer being a bit of a freak and recoiling from her as soon as she starts to calm down is just something Lilian assumes is part and parcel of whatever horrifying colony of neuroses is puppeting her body like a psychiatric strain of cordyceps. She'd completely written it off as inconsequential the first time she observed it.     The second time, here and now, elicits the ghost of a frown, but briefly scanning her thoughts indicates nothing but sourceless, unfocused confusion, and Lilian leaves it be. It's not worth using magic in a place where at least one person (Vertin) can sense her using it to a frankly ridiculous level of precision, and Mesmer is probably just being drunk and disoriented anyways. She still squeezes her fingers together until her prop silver gloves make a creaking sound.     'This is the first I've heard of you being engaged. Should I say congratulations?'     "You were literally in the room for our FDMO intake." says Lilian, uneasily. She scowls a little bit just thinking of it. "You may if you'd like, but I'm not expecting them." There. Interaction completed. Neutral exit. Now Lilian can leave.
Lilian Rook	'Should I be alarmed you dressed her as me? I am, a bit. It's uncomfortably parasocial.'     "Beg pardon?" Before she knows it, Lilian has turned right around. Like instinctively flinching away from a sharp object or an open flame, she responds to Mesmer's sheer audacity as if it were an inescapable gravity well. Barely finding her balance, she says "You don't even dress like that." instead of what she was thinking of, and starts feeling the gears in her brain jamming as the latter thing refuses to politely disappear. "No one in their right mind would think that you would. Even for Halloween."     The first thing that gets through the mental lockup, loosened by a somewhat alarming quantity of alcohol as the minutes go on, is a fragmentary memory of Lilian scoffing at Mesmer regarding 'flattering herself', and the knowledge that Mesmer has definitely been told about Tamamo by her causes everything about this situation to make her slightly dizzy. Trying to buy herself a little time with more punch, Lilian nearly coughs it back up again into the plastic cup when Mesmer opens her handbag.     §Why did you bring any needles at all?! What the fuck?! Is that--§     "Is that your gun?" Lilian blurts out, and thus loses the war. A stage whisper, perhaps, but it's past the point of repair now. She's so utterly floored that when Mesmer decides not to smoke and hands her the cigarette instead, Lilian just silently takes it. That must be the reason that, when she tries and fails not to grimace at the heap of pills next to the syringes, it's with the cigarette casually between her lips. "You're not shooting up in the bathroom are you." she says, half-believing. "Please don't."     Lilian snaps her fingers, conjures a tiny magical flame, and lights up without even particularly thinking about it. Six seconds later, after a drag she had a month and Petra's stolen carton to practice before, Lilian mutters "Oh fuck, Vertin's going to hate it if the furniture smells like smoke." and with a quiet "Láithreach." to send plate and punch Tamamo's way, just in case she gets waylaid by La Source any longer, Lilian beelines to the campground so she can keep . . . smoking? For some reason? Outside.     No. That's what she's doing. Someone handed her a cigarette and she just started smoking like she'd asked for it herself.     'Off-worlder media reference, I'd assume? That must have taken a long time.'     "Go outside for once." Lilian sighs, exhaling smoke. She heads for a spot a little ways from the exit, where it won't get in anyone's face, carefully stepping around all the wildflowers so she doesn't trample any along the way. "It took this long because I didn't want to be disrespectful of the culture."
Timekeeper	"But I'm not at liberty to say what it is. Excuse me."     Sonetto keeps her head tilted as Bond walks away, temporarily stalled in her food-fetching. "Hmm? ... Understood." A few seconds pass. "I do not understand." "Wait, less than Sonetto even?"     Sonetto was politely holding back from commenting on this particular bit, but now that Regulus has slighted her good name, she can't remain quiet for Matilda's sake any longer. "I was the recipient of the School for the Primary Defense of Mankind's annual Exemplary Student Conduct award for each of twelve years until my graduation," She informs Regulus.     She hesitates and her chin dips down a bit, causing her loose-fitting ears to rock forwards on her head like a guilty dog. "... There was one year that I did disagree with receiving the award, however. So I too, could have once been disciplined in school." She says this as if its her gravest shame, in acknowledgement of Lilian's statement-- though she doesn't say she actually refused the award. "Merci beaucoup- er, or should I say, 'good dog'?"     "Thank you." The fact that Sonetto says this, to the 'compliment' of 'good dog', with seemingly no opinions whatsoever about that moniker either way, while handing Matilda her impeccably accurate dinner plate (complete with fetched utensils and napkin) is *skin-crawlingly* weird. She nods and smiles, like it's some kind of game.     Then she tilts her head, eyes closed and still smiling. "Then, since we are acting out as our costumes," Wait, why are her cheeks a little pink? "Will you meow for me in return, Matilda?"     Glancing over to where Sonetto set down her punch cup by the counter, Matilda can see that it's over half empty, which is like being half-twice-spiked.
Regulus	"That is remarkably tricky." APPLe admits to Greta on the matter of the music button. "But--leylines you say? I see, I see... So she's a bit of a writer." He spins slightly as if to look towards Marcus herself. "It seems to me that some fit in quite well at the Foundation, that they can thrive here. I'm glad for them, even though I worry the environment may stifle others, with respect, of course." But he apple-bobs in the iar in agreement. "Then this is a good opportunity for her to make some friends, people to look forward to working with. But ... I do not think it is a bad thing she's gotten attached? The world can be a bit cold, at times, so it is always worth celebrating when one can find fondness in unexpected company." ''Sonetto'' Regulus feels strangely uneasy but also kind of relieved that Sonetto has always been as straightlaced as she appears for the same sort of reasons she is kind of enthused by the idea that Matilda might have a bit of rebel in her. It feels realer that way. She does gape a little at the 'thank you' at 'good dog' though. Is this a bit, Regulus wonders, is SHE the butt of a joke here? WILL YOU MEOW FOR ME IN RETURN, MATILDA??? WILL YOU MEOW FOR ME IN RETURN, MATILDAAAAA?? Okay, she has to be in on it. This is, like, them playing a prank on the rest of the multiverse. Regulus smirks dangerously. Well played, you two, but she's cottoned on now. You flew too close to the sun and now she knows that you're IN ON THE JOKE. "What happened that one time--?" She begins but before she can really press the matter... ''Everyone gets disciplined in school.'' "Hey hey hey I'm not saying it's bad!" Regulus would probably not say this if she knew what sort of discipline the SPDM typically utilized, she's thinking like writing on a chalkboard, maybe getting knuckles rapped by a ruler at worst. "It means having had some adventures right?" r''Arcanist-centric magazine.'' "Once they'll do an article starring yours truly, the rising rock star across the cosmos!" Regulus declares. Clearly she's not at 80 percent Bond yet. ''It is unlikely to occur, here!'' Regulus sways a little dopily on her feet and smiles, "Yeah, yeah, you're doing great." But she pauses as she seems to have left herself open for an ATTACK by Matilda taking advantage of her own words to use against her! Regulus is a little uneasy about just going 'no way' to Matilda on this matter, she needs to reject the entreaties with at least as much creativity as Matilda is offering them. It'd so ruin her whole vibe if she couldn't match it. r"Oh that's really scary, Matilda... too scary! I think... I gotta run away in terror!" She attempts to run, trips over her own feet, crashes to the floor. "owww...." She rolls around a bit to try and get back up to her feet but this is beyond her in her apple costume. Her face didn't even hit the floor, her costume is holding her up. APPLe clears his throat(????), "Excuse me, Miss Hoffman." And he floats over to his own ward and helps drag her up to her feet--though she rolls across the floor for a bit first--before finally being able to drag her back up to her feet as she hobbles outside to check on Poltergeist. "Polly!! Polly!!!" She says, hobbling. "Did you see my incredible costume?! Gosh yours is so cuuuute!"
Tamamo	'I... Do you think that would work, Madam Tamamo?'     Tamamo takes this as a serious question, and answers it with due consideration. "Separation can bring peace when there is a great barrier between two groups, and yet, I would hesitate to call this 'coexistence.' If the extraterrestrials wish to live on Earth, could they confine themselves to those places none wish to visit? Humans of the 20th century wished even to explore the frozen wastes, though they rarely did so with eyes wide open. No, I would need agree with you. If the goal is 'peace,' a harder thing than 'survival,' then it is only by peoples living closely and openly that they begin to see themselves as one, and it is only by the falling of those lines of separation that peace is achieved." The way she talks about it suggests some sort of personal experience.     'So much juice in those...'     '...so I can provide data for research and investigation...'     "You can tell...? Oh! So, it is that sort of thing." Tamamo pats a trio of holstered needles. "I have not yet tried the punch, but I would suggest something light, if you wished to try." That is, something light to dilute her fruit-syrup injectors.
UFO Gang	Nazrin fiddles with her ear for a moment -- after this, she looks over to Mr. Bond with a squint, as the radio feed seems to be escalating what Nazrin had felt was inter-office drama of some kind. She does look from Mesmer Jr. to Tamamo as their equipment is compared. Arrests? At a party? The possibility of a commando raid? This suitcase is bumpin', in her opinion. Nazrin is not a very good person. Shou, perhaps, is. "A magazine that spans a hundred years?" she murmurs as she learns of UTTU, and its possible future mysteries. Past mysteries. Are there differences? Probably so, thinks Shou, while missing her old source of wisdom. Her eyes turn back to Sonetto then, and her expression brightens. She, too, is wearing a costume consisting entirely of animal-ear headband and what she wears every day. Minamitsu, on the other hand, turns her head around as a rolling apple tumbles out of the doorway with some difficulty. She can swiftly identify Regulus and her truly committed look, and raises a hand to her lip in thought. "So /that's/ where she was... unless Polly is someone else...!" Minamitsu *doesn't* just run after Regulus, who at least has been saved by the notable APPLe from the ignomy of rolling around like a piece of tapered-oblong fruit for the rest of the night. But she does lean over a little and turn her head, to see where *Regulus* is looking...
Lilian Rook	. . . . . . . .     'Thank you.'     Lilian, who is rapidly incrementing her BAC without thinking about it, stops and stares at Sonetto near the door. Over the course of those two words, she is forced to systematically re-think every single thing she thinks she knows about romance and attraction, and--     'Will you meow for me in return, Matilda?'     --decides this isn't her business. In fact, those two freaks can just figure it out themselves. At least they're finally talking now.     'Hey hey hey I'm not saying it's bad! It means having had some adventures right?'     Lilian frowns at Regulus, with a faint expression and heavy stare which together amount to hearing a landmine click after putting your foot on it. Lilian is, for the second time in a week, too loaded up on booze to actually keep her mouth shut on this one, much to the detriment of everyone's peaceful lives. "In my first year alone, I was punished more often and more severely than any other student has ever been across all nine. So yeah. I suppose I had some adventures."     Pulling away her cigarette for a moment (now smudged green near the base) Lilian makes herself clarify (for poor puppy Sonetto's sake), "Still the top student to ever graduate, however. Funny thing, that."
Regulus	''In my first year alone, I was punished more often and more severely than any other student has ever been across all nine.'' "Glad you showed 'em but that's such bullshiiiit...." Regulus says as she's being rolled along the floor.
James Bond	Mon dieu- do you think she, erm, did the deed, to preserve the secret..?     "No," says Bond with a sigh. "That would be more interesting than what actually happened. A few years ago, he fell in with..." There's a moment in which he must determine the precise way to describe a certain person, his brow knitted in a certain kind of disdain. "A man with enough experience in the industry to know better, enough ambition not to care, and enough stubbornness to continue trying to make his vision a reality well past the point when anyone sensible would have stopped."     "To make a long story short, something like twenty million pounds of government money which was meant to be for engineering work instead disappeared into an offshorre holding account. He died of a heart attack. Presumably due to the stress of the government investigation." So you are, like, actually like James Bond from the films? Or did they make the movies to dramatize your life? <J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "'James Bond' is an ideological necessity." <J-IC-Scene> James Bond says, "Those movies don't exist in my world. But they serve the same purpose, which is to soothe and stoke the same paranoia in one stroke."     "To justify the extravagant expense paid to the 'national security' of a small, miserable little island that used to run the world, thinks it still does and lies awake at night afraid that someone will call its bluff."     "The only difference is that the movies are public knowledge. No one where I'm from knows that there even is a James Bond, much less that the original died seventy years ago." ---     Bond has a very pleasant experience eating outside. The punch is especially pleasant, as he imagined it would be upon his cursory examination. Watching Lilian urgently pass by, he presumes, given the difference in demeanor between now and a few moments ago, that this must somehow be related to Mesmer.     Is one cup of punch enough to get in the middle of that? No.     But he did see some spirits in the sunroom. Maybe after a cocktail he'll feel differently.
Timekeeper	"I do not believe the Men in Black have that kind of power...?"     "The who?! Wh-where?!" Polly looks around frantically, now in her panic assuming that Marcus is her one ally against these mysterious men who would arrest her if only they had the power. And she has no power at all!!! So they probably can! "There will be no arrests made here today, because you've done nothing wrong,"     Slightly unbelievable! As is the next claim, that parties are for fun! Poltergeist isn't stupid, though, just so so so scared, so she does finally start to screw her head back on the longer Marcus goes without, like, arresting her or shooting her or pulling off her sheet or calling her a long string of rude names. "Oh, um. You don't have to hold your arms up."     Nasally and still residually shaking, Poltergeist drops her arms and wraps them around her stomach, curling her shoulders inwards. "A-ah... is it...? I d-don't know. Nothing seems to calm me down, haha, but that's just... that's just life, i-isn't it...? Or, well, not life. Because I'm dead. Deaaaad and drowned. A-ahhhahah...."     She shakes her entire head and shoulders, incrementally hunching over more until she's halfway to crouching. "Sorry, sorry. I'm no good at parties. I always ruin them. I d-didn't even say hi to you, did I? I just made a mess of things again. Ouhhhhh...." "That'd be really handy... but you'd have a really hard time picking, wouldn't you?"     "Mmm..." Cristallo nods, a little hesitantly. She folds her hands in her lap, fingers curling in the fur of her costume. "There's a lot to choose from, it's true. But because it's always available, you can watch it whenever you like and see if you want to continue."     Then, just a little lost, "What is a fandom?" "Uh. Do either of you know 'Poltergeist'...?"     "Ah! You're looking for Polly? What for? She's my friend." Cristallo reaches over the side of her chair to grab the medical implement on wheels beside her and reattach it to her wheelchair. It's not as elaborately costumed as her chair, but there's at least two cardboard cutouts of a dragon taped to its sides, to make its profile blend into her aesthetic.     "Polly? Polly, are you doing alright?" She's not really loud enough to be heard over so much as the crackling of the campfire near Poltergeist, but the grass crumpling under her moving wheelchair is. Poltergeist whips her head up from where she's crumpling into wrinkly sheets on the ground and hurriedly drifts over, slumping on the ground and hanging her head in front of Cristallo. "Haaa... haa.... Hildaaa... I blew it. I'm sorryyyy..." "It's alright, it's alright. It's a larger party than we thought, isn't it?" "... I blew it at one...." "... Well, would you like to meet another person? They were here looking for you." "Ack--...!"     Poltergeist makes a noise like she's been stabbed in the gut, and then sways up to her feet, shivering with the sheet gripped tightly around her. "Y-yes...?"
Timekeeper	"You have the very wings of a tinkerbell, I can tell, though I have not seen their like before."     "Hmmph!" This appears to be a highly scoring response with La Source, because she puffs out her chest proudly. With a nasally emphasis on the first syllable 'wa', mushy like she's got her mouth half full but eminently proud of herself, "They don't even get wet in the *water*, you know. A tinkebell can fly and walk *and* swim, like a duck-i-ling or a swan or a turtle hawk." "Are manifestations of the subconscious mortal?"     "I don't know about that," La Source starts uncertainly, but then very quickly makes up her mind, probably because Tamamo does. "Yes, I think so. But *I'm* not that. And mortals should *worship* me." "I shall be Tamamo-no-mae still, tomorrow, in case you should remember it."     La Source puts her hand on her chest, stretching up to her tiptoes. "I am the wiiise and powerful La Source! Spring Elfin of the lake! Many, many mortals and wish-wanters seek for my perfectly unmatched magic, but none! shall ever receive it. Ha ha! You are pleased to meet me, most definitely, Missus Tamamo-no-mae!"     Like a baby duck-i-ling, she's seemingly locked on to Tamamo as her inroads for getting attention from this party that was otherwise a little bit too nervewracking for her to approach. She has, however, never seen a soda before, so when Tamamo asks for refreshments, she has approximately one thought to add to that.     Magnanimously, "Well, if you ask very nicely, you may have one sip of spring water. And the one-wish-lady can, too, but only if she asks."
Foundation Scions	'You were literally in the room for our FDMO intake.'     "Oh. I must have been preoccupied, then. It's no matter. That's old news. Congratulations." Mesmer is looking down at her nails the whole time she says this- she can't see her nails, not through her gloves, but that doesn't stop her stare, and that doesn't stop the small finger-movements of her trying to clean them and their undersides off, futile, again, thanks to the gloves. Mesmer sighs- and adjusts the edge of them, pulling it tighter to her forearms. It doesn't make the classic snapping noise- that's unrealistic, it's always far more dull a sound against skin. 'Beg pardon?'     "Don't actually, that would cause a scene." 'You don't even dress like that.'     Mesmer looks down at herself- taking that same sort of cold, weird, staring gaze she's often practicing, but towards herself, is insane. It's more like flaunting than anything making up her outfit, or her posture. She lets out a sigh- "It's not too dissimilar. And besides- I did dress this way, today, at the very least. If it's unexpected to someone, think a bit longer on the fact I'm under no obligation to announce my wardrobe choice to the world at-large, and no-one decided to ask." She shrugs. "Happy Halloween." 'Is that your gun?'     "It's hardly a gun. It's not a firearm, it has no projectile, it's simply a self-defense tool." Mesmer stops, and stares- sure, she held the cigarette out to Lilian, but the fact that Lilian actually took it is impossible to parse- and she stays staring, as Lilian puts it to her lips. "Do you need a light?"     Mesmer doesn't look ready to offer one over, but, she's probably not making some sort of joke or jab out of it- but Lilian's spell negates the need to, anyways. God, she's still staring confused at Lilian having taken it. 'You're not shooting up in the bathroom are you.'     "No. They're saline fluid. Perfectly mundane." Suspicious-stare, and, protective, she moves the case closer to her chest, "Before you ask, no, you can't have any of the pills. They're mine."
UFO Gang	Minamitsu considers Cristallo's words. "I think... a fandom is when you're a big fan of something... and you join the dominion of that something, in your heart. So it's kind of a shortened phrase." Nobody told her this. Minamitsu did not go to school. When Cristallo moves, she follows, a pace or so behind. There is another concerned glance towards Regulus as she closes the ground. There's the lead in from her. It's too much for Polly at this party. She's messed up. She's lost confidence. Minamitsu takes in a deep breath. Poltergeist can speak, anywhere. Minamitsu reaches up to adjust her eyepatch a little, and the concerned/neutral expression that had rested on her face lifts up into a smile. Both her mouth and her eyes. "Hi! I'm Minamitsu," she says, one hand coming up to rest over her heart. "Regulus told me we have some stuff in common when we were eating fried fish the other day." Minamitsu glances to Cristallo; she takes a step or two forwards, just enough to close up the little circle. "Because... I'm not really a pirate..." "I drowned," she says, more soberly. "But that was a long time ago," she continues, brightening up. "I've learned a few things about being dead and stuff! So if you ever need someone to talk to-- I'm someone!" Another hand over her heart. "And I like all the eyes on your wrap there, too. Or wait--" Realization may have struck her: /maybe they're all her eyes/
Foundation Scions	'There was one year that I did disagree with receiving the award, however.' 'What happened that one time--?'     Matilda makes a pained little expression- just a little signal hoping Regulus will stop pressing. The longer on this topic, the worse, actually, and Matilda isn't very happy with it, even though she mostly did bring it up. 'I think it's likely my second-finest work.'     Matilda nods- "Second-to-premier... c'est magnifique, truly! And- of course, when it comes to costuming, mine is my finest work~! For my first true costume, really, I have set quite the bar for myself, hm!" She spins, so her attached tail can wag. Cats don't really wag. She's got the spirit, though. Wait- "Isn't it scary?" 'Then, since we are acting out as our costumes,'     "Yes? Of- er, certainly, I think it would be an excellent idea for yo-" 'Will you meow for me in return, Matilda?'     Ah.     "Erm- well, that... would only be fair..?" Matilda pauses, taking a deep breath, her face, in the passing moments, having grown pink, then white, then embarrassed-red- "I can, in return, 'miaou' for you.." Matilda, the longer you take before you pull the band-aid off and do it, the more embarrassing it will be.     Awkward, plate put down, and hands folded in front of her like a little choir performer scared on first recital, Matilda makes a, not-very-accurate, "Mii-auu," noise, and, then pairs it with the motion of batting at her own ear.     She stands quiet, as if waiting for applause, approval, or just attention, when a brilliant idea hits her- "Ah, Investigator Sonetto! If you wish to better act your costume- please, allow me, to add make-up to your appearance! As I have~! A costume is most incomplete without it!" Transparently, she just wants time near Sonetto, with her attention and focus. But also, she's here committing to having a costume! Sonetto just has the head-band! That's hardly fair! 'Oh that's really scary, Matilda... too scary! I think... I gotta run away in terror!'     "Er- adieu, Ms. Regulus!"     "... Ms. Regulus, do you need a hand..?" 'That would be more interesting than what actually happened.'     Matilda looks a bit dissapointed, one more sipping at her twice-spiked punch- she's had enough of it to be meaningfully tipsy, but it's a little hard to tell, she's a happy, exciteable goober who's silly even when sober. "Not even a death by a broken heart... C'est vrai, tu vois? Un coeur brisé peut être trés mortel!"
Tamamo	'Well, if you ask very nicely, you may have one sip of spring water. And the one-wish-lady can, too, but only if she asks.'     Tamamo assumes that the one-wish-lady is the very one she previously mentioned, and files away that comment for later examination. "Would you please allow me a sip of spring water, o Spring Elfin of the Lake?" Tamamo doesn't question why she's swapped off of her costume persona. It's fine. It's more important to engage in hospitality, the trappings of which change from one era to the next, but always involve customs of respect and water, even before what's now called 'civilization.' Besides, letting children give you things encourages them to be kind.     Only after this ritual is completed... no, even after it's completed, she doesn't ask about the demand for worship, or the incongruity between that and refusing requests. Tamamo-no-mae, bunrei of Amaterasu, already knows that ignoring mortals doesn't stop them from worshiping. It's that very strangeness in humanity that seeded the circumstances of her being. Instead, she wraps her question around a different support. "Perfectly unmatched... is it? I shall have high expectations."     'Láithreach.'     Shortly, Tamamo finds that she has a plate with the requested food and drink. There are two cups of punch. Using the syringe on this would be a bad idea. With La Source following, Tamamo heads toward a place to sit by the campfire, and offers, "Would you like something sweet? It would be best if I had some water to put it in, but these cups will not do." Sharing her own drinks, however odd, completes the ritual of reciprocal hospitality.
Regulus	"Mmhhokayyy..." Regulus manages but the good news for Matilda is that this has pretty significantly interrupted Regulus from pressing further down the dialogue tree. Though she probably heard the mii-auu, though she might have forgotten if Matilda didn't also bat at her own ear. Now Regulus will remember forever. But she is also wanting to check on Polly. She knows, of course, that Poltergeist doesn't like a lot of attention but she considers herself TIMELINE BUDDIES with the ghost so she tends to reach out to her a little extra relative to other folks. ''I drowned.'' Regulus's expression goes for chipper to a bit flat. Just coming right out with iiit?? Just like thaaaat??? Maybe it'll be okay... "Um yeah..." The apple-wearing Regulus with askew dr. pepper bottles attached to her head with scuffed arms says. "I met her while she was wearing...a bag on her head!"
Storm Investigators	"some fit in quite well at the Foundation," "Everyone thrives in different environments. Some need the structure to guide their focus, and others need the space to pursue their ambitions." Greta replies, nodding slowly while watching Regulus from the corner of her eye. She probably won't get in too much trouble, right? Right. She's not trying to make Marcus drink or smoke, at least, so Greta won't worry too much for the time being. "I do hope she can make plenty of friends here, yes, and I'll be around to teach her whatever I can. Still, I hope she won't be too dependent on me for long, because she will need to be able to stand on her own one day." "No, I would need agree with you. " Marcus' face lights up a bit as she listens to Tamamo, nodding slowly and steadily getting more animated even though her nerves aren't entirely settled yet. "Y.. Yes, that's right. Survival is... Important, yes, but a world where everyone only survives is too bleak to settle for. A world where humans, arcanists, extraterrestrials, and everyone else can coexist peacefully together is... That's something I want to help push towards with my work here."   Wait, this is Vertin's suitcase. "Er. With my work in the Foundation. And here, too, because I've heard things have been... Um. Very complicated with people outside of here as of late." She glances meaningfully over at Lilian and Riku. "I have not yet tried the punch, but I would suggest something light, if you wished to try." "Something light.. Oh! There was a bowl of punch in the sunroom. I'll get some, then. O-oh, but if those are your costume props, then it wouldn't do if you were nurse without enough medicine. But having at least one empty syringe means you've been working hard treating patients, so..." She'll be stuck overthinking that for a while if she isn't stopped. Luckily, she's also engaged into two whole conversations that keep her from making Greta worry about her ever getting drunk alone! "The who?! Wh-where?!" "Ah? It's n.. It's nobody anywhere! They are... Um. Fictional characters, from one of Madam Hofmann's movies." Marcus explains, trying to calm Poltergeist down with more of those ineffectual palms-up downward waves. "Nobody here would dare to make any arrests with so many of our friends here. Everyone here is gettinga long well, so  I'm sure they would jump to our defense if..." Marcus trails off as she finds herself momentarily distracted by what's going on between Lilian and Mesmer, sweating even more inside her suit. She might not be quite as jumpy as Poltergeist is, but she's at least a distant second! Still, even Marcus feels some amount of responsibility towards helping calm and even protect her ghostly friend from such a fate, and so... She shuffles over slowly, and she takes off her suit jacket to offer it to Poltergeist/awkwardly hold it over her like a curtain. "I... I do not really know how other people stay so calm in places like this, either. Maybe when there are fewer people, but when it is like... Um." She's still kind of worried that something's going to explode, but she keeps her gaze focused on the pond where La Source probably won't cause an actual explosion. Hopefully. "Like this? It's very difficult. I'm not so good at parties, either, but I don't think we've ruined anything. And... Talking to you and Madam Tamamo made it easier to be here, I think."
Lilian Rook	#-1 FUNCTION (ANS) NOT FOUND     Honestly that pisses Lilian off more than if she'd just smoothly glossed over it and pretended she was never there. Which, she assumes, is exactly what Mesmer is hoping for, and therefore, the sensible thing to do is to sarcastically say "Thank you, thank you. I'll be certain to convey your well-wishes.", like a normal person. Seeing Mesmer faux-examine her nails through medical gloves turns her grip on her own arms white-knuckled.     'Don't actually, that would cause a scene.'     "In your--" Lilian begins, recognizes her own tone of voice, attempts to cut herself off with a timely little Reminder Pinch, and then makes a teeth-grit squealing noise instead, because she's wearing metal fucking claws. A quietly furious little throat sound follows, which definitely conveys how pointlessly rude Mesmer is and totally doesn't make her sound like a wild animal.     'Happy Halloween.'     "Shut up. Just shut. Stop talking." Lilian snaps, furiously consuming yet more punch to swallow down anything more impolite, gasping afterwards from the speed at which she's downing it. "None of that makes any sense and you know it. You're being a piece of shit. I can tell. Everyone can tell. Do you think you're clever?" The amount of punch definitely shows. "Why do you have to do this? Why do you follow me everywhere and make everything all about you? Can't I have a day around the place without you turning it all into a test of my fucking patience and decency?"     'Before you ask, no, you can't have any of the pills. They're mine.'     Lips parted around her cigarette just enough to sell 'aghast' with her narrowed eyes and tilted chin, every single thing wrong with that catastrophe of a sentence runs through Lilian's mind simultaneously and abruptly becomes a ten-car alcohol-induced burning pile-up. Finishing off her third-- fourth? Cup as a cleanser, all in vain, Lilian tosses it in the trash receptacle rather than bothering to fill it again.     §Why do you think I'd ask for them? Stop flaunting them you freak! They're pills! Stop acting like there's a hungry seagull about and it wants your chips! Oh my god where do I even begin?! I'm going to tear her a new one for this!§     Lilian breathes in, exhales smoke, removes the cigarette, and with all the haughty and incisiveness she can summon-- "My my, is that so? I don't recall asking." --fucks it up completely. "Ach ansin arís."     . . .     Lilian drunkenly realizes what she's doing is, perhaps, a little bit too stupid even to one-up Mesmer Junior. Right after 'teleporting' a couple of Mesmer's pills into her hand, about the time she'd just cracked them between her teeth, gagged at the taste, then stopped to think whether they're actually chewable, and finally, after realizing she doesn't know what they even are, remembered that she didn't actually want them in the first place. Red-faced for a few reasons, Lilian turns her head to politely spit the pills out into her hand, dispose of them, and then sanitize and wipe down her fingers, blushing to her ears.     'Mii-auu'     §Oh god I've gotta get out of here.§     Finally remembered that she came here for food, Lilian loads up a plate with 'whatever', fills a separate punch glass one more time, and mutters something that doesn't actually contain 'excuse me' before rapidly escaping towards Tamamo, joining up at her side with her eyes on the floor and such a 'don't ask' expression that it's honestly kind of pathetic.
Lilian Rook	'Would you like something sweet? It would be best if I had some water to put it in, but these cups will not do.'     "Oh thank goodness. You two are getting along." she sighs, and forces a shaky smile. "Tamamo, this is the Spring Elfin of the-- Oh, but she's certainly already introduced herself. Here, I'll fetch an extra seat and some skewers. I'll handle your marshmallows if you'd rather keep your hands free." Lilian rambles on, doting-embarrassed, turns her head aside to politely exhale smoke somewhere else without even thinking about it, and continues on. "Goodness, it was hot inside, wasn't it? Must be the result of so many people."
Timekeeper	"It's gorgeous, Vertin."     Vertin smiles faintly, both hands on the base of her parasol with it turned down towards the floor. "I suppose I should just start expecting you and I to be on the same page at some point." "Do you think they'd let me have a copy?"     Vertin stops to think, drumming her fingers against her parasol. "I don't believe it'd be an issue. There's simply one section of the subscription form that might trip you up, but I'd be more than happy to lend you a hand if it's needed." Lilian can read between the lines effortlessly enough: the use of an arcane skill is actually a required part of the form, and suggesting that Lilian wouldn't have a problem filling it out is equivalent to saying that her magic counts.     Moving on from that with a little joke, "You wouldn't believe it, though: UTTU is the only subscription I've heard of that manages to increase its prices every era." "I adore your lipstick; let me say that before I forget."     "Thank you." Vertin curls a finger to tap at the edge of her lip tugging upwards. "I'd hardly know where to start with complimenting your costume; it's not like anything I've seen before. I have heard the name Dimo in passing from Regulus, however. I suppose I could say that you've clearly represented the culture well. The eyes are especially striking." "Mii-auu,"     During Matilda's delays, Sonetto's punch cup found its way back into her hands. She's uncomfortably intensely attentive while Matilda works her way up to it, up until Matilda's batting at her ear makes her gasp excitedly and clap her hands together, cup crinkling. Before Matilda knows it, Sonetto's glove is underneath her chin, scratching the underside like a cat.     "That's very good. Cute kitty." If that was all, it might be tolerable, but Sonetto obliviously continues scratching under Matilda's chin for a few more rambling sentences. "Your work tonight has been quite admirable, I think. Lending your divination materials to Timekeeper for the sole purpose of party decorations is a very generous thing to do, and... your decoration sense works very well with Timekeeper's. I wish I had been free earlier in the day in order to provide my assistance as well."     "It is a strange tradition, but to see Investigator Hoffman and Marcus perform it like they did, I believe that one can find it fun to dress and act in strange roles for one night." Finally, she lowers her hand at Matilda's next suggestion. Sonetto blinks, and takes another sip from her cup, and tilts her head in thought. Her normally dense mind is even a little bit slower tonight, and it takes extra time for her to process what Matilda said. After several trains of thought, she ends up turning towards where Vertin is.     "Timekeeper! Would you like to paint on my face to complete my costume, and then I can paint on yours?" Well, it's back to business as usual, then. "Mm? Sonetto? What's this all of a sudden?" "It would improve my costume and allow me to enjoy the festivities more efficiently as per the traditions of this holiday." "I'm glad you've come round on it, but didn't Matilda already offer?" "I would feel sorry for Matilda if I troubled her with such a thing." "Hahh... I've never done it before, so I'm worried I might mess it up. How about you allow Matilda to paint yours, and then you can paint mine?"     Ushering the group of three, now, towards the couches, Vertin gives Matilda a hard to read look. It can probably be interpreted as 'exasperated wingmanning'.