Spookimon Boo-n!
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Spookimon Boo-n!

“Broccoli,” Amaryllis said. She’d become quite used to Broccoli over the last few months. The strange human-turned-bun girl was... well, strange. Amaryllis had never thought of herself as someone who needed help and support, and least of all something as seemingly useless as friendship. But then Broccoli came and decided that they were friends and honestly, Amaryllis was a little bit afraid that she couldn’t live without it.

“Yes?” Broccoli replied. She was smiling, which wasn’t unusual. In fact, her not smiling would be a bigger concern.

“What are you wearing?” Amaryllis asked. It was, in her opinion, a very fair question. Broccoli was wearing her old metal hat, the one with the tortoiseshell pattern. She was also wearing a large, bulbous shell on her back which was strapped to a beige one-piece.

“It’s a turtle outfit!” Broccoli said.

“You’re an idiot,” Amaryllis replied. This kind of thing was very... very Broccoli. She could almost feel the slight headache coming on. “Pray tell, why are you dressed like a turtle?”

“Well, it’s fall, right?”

“Yes,” Amaryllis said. She wasn’t seeing the link, but Broccoli’s explanations could take a while and be a little roundabout. When Amaryllis was feeling generous she attributed that to Broccoli being a Riftwalker, with all of the missing cultural information that came with it. When she wasn’t feeling so generous she attributed Broccoli’s explanations to Broccoli being Broccoli.

“So, fall on Earth is when we have Halloween.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Amaryllis said. Also, she always found it weird that Broccoli’s world was called Earth of all things. Dirt was a far more appropriate and respectable name.

Broccoli clapped her hands together, looking sillier than usual in her costume. “It’s a big event we do once a year where we do spooky things and dress up in cute costumes.”

“No,” Amaryllis said.

Broccoli’s expression fell. “No? But I haven’t even asked anything.”

“I know what you’re going to ask,” Amaryllis said.

Her best friend’s eyes filled with unshed tears and Broccoli’s cheeks puffed out. Amaryllis could feel her heart constricting. The Adorable skill should, by all respects, be made illegal. “But I already made you a costume! I even made sure it wasn’t insulting to anyone.”

Amaryllis pinched the bridge of her nose. “What is the costume?”

“It’s a bat costume!” Broccoli cheered. She reached around her back (into the shell) and pulled out a pile of dark cloth which she placed onto Amaryllis’ desk.

“You want me to dress as a bat?” Amaryllis asked.

“A cute bat,” Broccoli said, as if that would help.

“And then what? Leave the Beaver, wander around Goldenalden and be mocked by everyone we see?”

“No! Why would anyone mock you for being cute?” Broccoli asked. She frowned. “Well, I suppose that could happen. Being cute isn’t any good.”

Amaryllis bit back a retort that involved pointing out a lot of hypocrisy right there.

“Anyway, I talked to Caprica, and she talked to some others, and we’ll be able to go trick-or-treating, and then we can visit a haunted house in the Purple district!”

“And we is just us?” Amaryllis asked.

Awen chose that moment to poke her head into the door, and Amaryllis found herself restraining a twitch at the sight of the blonde. She had menswear on, with a pillow stuffed under her shirt and a bristly fake moustache. “Hi,” she said.

“Are... are you dressed as you uncle?” Amaryllis asked.

“You can tell?” Awen asked.

Broccoli laughed, then patted the bat costume. “I won’t force you to dress up and come have fun with us if you don’t want to,” she said.

“But you spent all night making that costume for her,” Awen said.

“No, no, a good friend doesn’t pressure a friend into doing stuff,” Broccoli said.

Amaryllis glared, then she swiped the stupid bat costume off the desk. “Fine,” she said.

Then she had to endure Broccoli hugging her for a while. It was nice.

***

“This is humiliating,” Amaryllis said.

Awen agreed, but she didn’t say anything. Sure, walking around dressed as her uncle was a little strange, but then so was most of the things she did since she escaped from home, and while this was strange, it was also kind of fun.

The first place they visited was the road on which the royal palace was. That meant that as Broccoli--who had no difficulty walking up to someone’s door and knocking, which was something Awen didn’t think she had the bravery to do yet--tapped on the noble’s doors, they opened up to reveal amused sylph nobles who handed out candies and sweet pastries.

“I can’t believe so many people are participating in this,” Amaryllis said.

“Why? It’s a great idea,” Broccoli said.

All along the street, busy little sylph children with tiny buzzy wings (who couldn’t quite fly yet, but who made up for it by being very energetic) were flitting around on excited sugar highs. Only a few of them had costumes on, but nearly all had fists-full of candy.

It was nice to see so many people out, and a lot of the parents Awen saw weren’t from the richest of families. So the entire event was an opportunity to have people of all sorts mix. She even saw a few humans and buns and catfolk out and about. They seemed amused at the sylph children running around with poorly made ears strapped to their heads.

Most of the costumes though, were of soldiers and royal guardsmen and the like. It was easy to see what kind of thing the little sylph wanted to be when they grew up. Not many adventurers and mechanics, she noted disappointingly.

“Oh! We should go to Caprica’s place next!” Broccoli said.

“You’ve eaten nothing but sweets all evening, do you really need more?” Amaryllis asked.

“Trick or treating is only half the fun,” Broccoli said. “There’s telling horror stories and visiting haunted houses too!”

“Your people must be a lot braver than most if that’s what they do for fun,” Awen said. It would certainly explain Broccoli’s lack of fear.

Broccoli laughed at that, but there was no sting to it, especially since she grabbed Awen for a quick hug. “I don’t think that’s how it works,” she said.

They arrived at the palace to find a number of guards standing outside. The big gate was open though, and a few brave children were running in and to the palace’s front where the king and queen themselves were sitting out front, a table covered in candies next to them. The king was grinning ear-to-ear as he handed out candies to wide-eyed children and said hello to parents who didn’t seem to know how to act while the king himself gave their kids candy.
Awen held back a giggle at the faces she saw. The sylph, she’d learned, were very big on appropriateness, and she imagined that the king handing out candy wasn’t that.

On the other hand, if the king was doing it, then clearly it was okay. The conflict was fun to see.

“Hi!” Broccoli said as their turn in line finally brought them to the front. She extended a bag (ie: an empty pillowcase with a pumpkin drawn on the side for some reason).

The king laughed and dropped a fistful of candy in. “Hello, Captain. I didn’t expect to see you dressed up. I thought that was more for the children.”

“I’m a child at heart and so is my tummy,” Broccoli said.

Amaryllis huffed, and while Awen couldn’t understand Huffese like Broccoli could, she imagined that it was one of those huffs.

“Oh, I’ll tell Caprica that you’re here. Apparently it’s tradition for the older children to visit a haunted house?” the king asked.

“It is!” Broccoli agreed.

“I don’t know if Caprica would consider herself one of the ‘older children’” the queen said. The older woman seemed amused, but she was still keeping an eye out to everyone around.

The king gestured to one of the nearby guards, and they nodded, then darted off into the palace. After they said their goodbyes and went to stand on the side, they were joined by Caprica. Caprica who was dressed in ill-fitting Paladin gear.

“Nice costume!” Broccoli said.

“Thanks,” Caprica replied. “It’s my mom’s old uniform, without the tags and insignia, of course. It’s a bit... big for me, isn’t it?”

“That’s okay,” Broccoli said. “Costumes don’t need to be perfect. I never had the nicest of costumes when I grew up, and I still loved dressing up every year. Fun is what you make of it, not what you can afford. Unless you can afford fun, in which case you should definitely buy some and share it with your friends.”

Awen giggled at another bit of Broccoli’s wisdom.

“So, the haunted house?” Caprica asked.

“Yes!” Broccoli cheered.

***

Caprica didn’t expect this idea of Broccoli’s to take off the way it did. It had started with her relating the idea to her father who then... well, pulled some strings. She didn’t expect it to become something of a competition amongst the nobles, but here they were.

The poor bakes and candymakers of Goldenalden were either having their best or worst couple of days ever. Not that they were ever truly in any dire straits. The sylph loved their sweets more than anyone else.

So, that part of the event was fine. The costumes were... a little more strange, but costume parties had been held before, and this was similar, but aimed more for children. All in all, it was turning out quite well, and she could imagine it being even more popular next year.

She wasn’t sure about this last part.

The haunted house that they’d walked over once belonged to the Darknight family, but that noble house had fallen long ago. Mostly it fell to disease and disaster, but most who knew of the family’s history blamed their own carelessness for their demise.

They left behind a small mansionette in a darker corner of the Purple District, with a tall gate around it. The building itself had gone decrepit with age and lack of maintenance.

Who could be blamed for not caring for the place? It was, after all, haunted.

“Wait,” Broccoli said as she stood on the walkway to the ancient mansion. “You mean this place had actual ghosts?”

“Yes?” Caprica said.

“What did you think people meant by 'haunted?’” Amaryllis asked. “It’s why I want to go back to the Beaver and get some proper equipment. Only an idiot would face a phantom dressed like this.” She raised her arms and wiggled her cloth bat-wings about.

“It’s not my fault!” Broccoli said. “I forgot that ghosts were real!”

***

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