Blasty was very, very taken aback by... well, not the appearance so much as the attitude of the surrounding company that would come to follow him. When you walk into Halloween Town, you kind of can't say you didn't expect Halloween people. But you could be reasonably surprised if they all started acting like they were as creeped out by all of this eerie ghoulishness as you were. Seriously, V-Opal-One dwarfed Blasty in every conceivable way and yet that one had the gall to say this was spooky for them. Eleven looked like a creature ripped out of Blasty's worst kitten nightmares, and yet all it had to say was a casual 'Hey do you guys know what's going on?'

Was this patch of darkness actually much scarier than Blasty had first assumed? Did they all know something he didn't?

He continued in a somewhat less courageous march than before. Continuing still perhaps because it was what he had set his sights on from the start and he had determined himself to do it. Maybe it was also because it's where everyone else was going, and he had only ever been around one real other person before. Mainly it was because he was too hungry and tired to think about heading back in a direction where he knew there was nothing for him. He tried for his own sake to continue to be brave in the face of this unknown and the malnourished paranoia starting to itch away at his skin. Maybe he could have a little fun. Everything about that sentiment made him hurt.

It wouldn't be too long before he saw what everyone was there for. A man with a weird head and weird clothes and a strange, spooky house. A house with... dinner? Food?! A kitchen?!?! And it was where all the other cats and that silly large creature were going. Blasty would not be dissuaded from free food. And maybe friends!! Maybe. But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves.

OOC: Blastocyst is going to the kitchen.

Vestyge felt Luna's weight wordlessly slide of his back, and with it brought some relief. He was free to pursue whatever grabbed his attention independently, but he also reflected on what this new conflict could mean for their business relationship at this time. Was he burning out? What did he have outside of this job, if he could even call it that?

He watched the little pale shape disappear to his right, pondering how he'd let this little shrimp of a Gembound determine the course of his new life. To move on to greener pastures required another pasture to move to. Vestyge was doubtful that another option existed.

What better place to have this crisis in the dark, yawning depths through the doorway at the back?

Isosceles was freaking the frick out further and further as the path and surrounding strangers become eerier and eerier. More and more ghastly in shape, in size, in silence. Isosceles was trembling, though it might be hard for such tall creatures to see. It was merely a bug in their presence. Eep! Terrifying.

However, as cowardly as the bug-bird was, it was also set in its staunch refusal to give this place or these monsters an inch of satisfaction at its fear! (An inch that, I must add, no one is really that hell bent on taking.)

Isosceles did to Eleven what I love to do when I can't hear what someone said very well but I also don't want to ask them to repeat themselves or be forced to engage: it pretended to be all the way deaf instead of partially deaf.

Fortunately for Doctor Fun, on the other hand, his crowing calls were much more difficult to willfully ignore. Isosceles cowered through the doorframe and tried to avoid any further interaction or attention from anyone as it trundled through the least scary-looking area of the property: the totally-not-hunted-i-mean-haunted garden.

OOC: Isosceles is going to the garden.

Crypt stretched upward, leaning back on his tail as he scoped out the two whole stories of the sprawling mansion ahead. This was weird, all of it - the looks he was getting, all the glowing faces who looked like what he saw in river reflections, or in the many faces of gemstones.

He scratched his belly idley, head tilting this way and that as he paused again to soak in the interior design. Fucked up and evil. Fine by him.

Said belly churned eagerly at the suggestion of a meal. He slid easily towards the doorway to the right, unaware of the family drama unfolding just a few metres away.

Thalassa had nothing of note to contribute to the conversation, so it said nothing. Some would benefit from this habit.

The mansion was startling, if only because it definitely shouldn't be here, in Pegasus, cloaked in supernaturally thick fog to hide its tall silhouette. Was it magic? A paw stepping down on the first, creaky floorboard confirmed this apparition's tangibility.

What kind of power could manifest a building like this? With such detail, too. Iron chandeliers swung, cobwebs crawled with quick black spiders. It was as if this place had always been here, lying in wait.

Thalassa hoped, maybe naively, that it had been waiting for her. She approached the darkness within the doorway at the back, hoping to find answers hidden in the room beyond.

Gaheris blinked at Diem Dark, not expecting to have to take a compliment at this time. "…Thanks?" She shook herself before heading forward again, as if try to rid herself of the moment.

She bowed her head politely as she made her way through the doorway, taking care that her antlers didn't catch. Gaheris briefly considered the upstairs, but decided that the room was too cramped for a take-off. Instead, she followed Doctor Fun through the door to the right, eager to learn some tricks (or treats) from a professional.

[quote="Durathror" pid='116719' dateline='1792291854']

The mansion before it reminded Durathror of the palace nearby. Disgusting. But, instead of featureless marble, polished to a shine and standing stoically amidst a pruned lawn... This place was fragile, rotting from the inside out. already dead, already desecrated - empty and hollow like the dreams that haunted her mind.

It was not worth destroying, but that did not mean she forgave it for existing. It would crumble under its own weight, with time. A few more cycles, maybe. Ashes to ashes.

A snarl at no one peeled her lip back, her angry orange gums burning holes into nearby retinas. Food could excuse this mess. Good food. She headed through the doorway to the right.