[OPEN TO ALL] The Halloween Party
Who: All the residents of the Mansion. ♥
Where Outside the Mansion
When: During the entire duration of the Halloween Event.
Rating: G-PG. ♥
Summary: Tripped too many traps already? Don't worry, you're not the only one. At least you can join the fun~ ♥
the Story: ( So you got thrown out too, huh? )
Where Outside the Mansion
When: During the entire duration of the Halloween Event.
Rating: G-PG. ♥
Summary: Tripped too many traps already? Don't worry, you're not the only one. At least you can join the fun~ ♥
the Story: ( So you got thrown out too, huh? )
...A fun slide, and he wonders if he could get back up to the tenth floor to try and find that trick-stair again, ride the big chute back down. When he looks behind him through, the Mansion looks...wow. It looks even more like a haunted place from the outside. And sure enough-
He tips his green, flat-head capped cranium back, and sees the tippy top spire where beasts and treasures were promises, climbing to his feet and patting pieces of straw off his moldy suit. He's also been slimed up to mid-calf, puffed across the back with a flour bomb, covered in sticky cobwebs he's had to fight his way through.
And that thing the ghost had left him with- Arland looks down to his hand to find the ribbon he'd wrapped around his fingers has come loose, and briefly panics, searching around the straw at his feet before a strand of red stands out. He plucks it up, winding it around a finger and then slipping it into a pocket, heading into the party and searching for Namine among the other...antique-festive mansion dwellers.
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The mansion never seems to run out of a delicious sense of irony, does it? Moodily, he takes a deeper gulp of his drink and looks away.
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His eyes may have glossed over him once, twice, but of course no one in something like that could ever possibly, possibly be his scientist.
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It's irony, he decides, due to the fact of his own current disability. The mansion in the very least has a sense of humour, and it appears to come at their expense.
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He's...brushing off the tower quest either like a trooper, or one with a very short attention span when there's games around, an abundancy of candy and smaller prizes and...the chance to dunk your head in a barrel of water and catch an apple with your teeth.
It isn't until he's got his captured apple on a stick with a gooey layering of carmel and nuts that he spots the wolf's head above the crowd, smirks breadly, and then dashes off in search of a certain someone.
Oh man. Beast Boy's gonna flip. out. at Saix's costume when he sees.
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Very temporarily, however. Wherever he's gone, Saix has no intention of following, helping himself instead to some of the sweets on offer.
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"H-hey, wait a sec! I'm still seein' stars!" He stumbled after the replica, and finally noticed the others' outfit. Beast Boy snorted. His wolfish ears, tail, and claws might not be the most ferocious costume on earth, but it was a lot better than looking like your head was squashed flat.
And then he saw it. Saix. Wearing a wolf on him.
Beast Boy froze.
And then a horrifying cry escaped his throat, caught somewhere between a wolf's howl and a boy's scream. However, one word was absolutely distinct.
"MURDERER!"
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Ah. Beast Boy. And here was Saix without the ability to retort, or explain.
He frowns, walking closer to Beast Boy and holding one hand up at him in a gesture asking for silence.
This would be ever so much easier if he could simply tell him to calm down.
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"S-stay back!" he yelped, tucking his tail and darting backwards. Times like these, one had to wonder just how much of Beast Boy's animal genetics have an impact on his behavior. Right then, it appeared his costume extended beyond his physical changes. His green eyes were wild with disbelief and a little bit of terror. However, he was human enough to give Saix a very predictable rant.
"How could you?! What did the wolf ever do to you, huh?! You're wearing someone's skin on your head! That wolf had thoughts and feelings and probably a family, and now you're wearing it as a freakin' hat! It--!"
As his eye met those of the dead wolf-hat, he stopped, swooning and looking paler than usual.
"Dude, it's like, staring into my soul. Think I'm gonna be sick."
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He folds his arms, waiting for Beast Boy to go quiet. Something that Beast Boy always seemed to have trouble understanding was the fact of Saix's heartlessness and all it entailed. Not that Saix would have been particularly inclined to care overmuch about a wolf's life before death, even with a heart. Regardless, any emotional pleas to Saix's better nature fell on salted land; there was nothing in Saix for them to take root in and blossom into guilt.
Saix is patient. He has no choice but to be patient when he can't speak to interrupt. In a gesture that was as close as he might come to showing any concern for how much it bothered Beast Boy, he pushed the wolf's head off his own head. At least then the eyes wouldn't be looking into Beast Boy's soul, as he so eloquently put it. Whether it's better or worse that this leaves the pelt hanging around Saix's neck by the legs, with the boneless skin, and the head, hanging in a sickeningly unnatural way at his back, is up to individual interpretation.
The alternative, unfortunately, is for Saix to go naked, and while this didn't particularly bother Saix, as options went, it might bother a few other people.
He holds both hands up, looking at Beast Boy, and waits to see if he'll start talking again.
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Saix isn't even bothering to defend himself yet, at least not with words, which is hardly fun at all...
But watching Beast Boy holler his head off horrified is plenty good enough to regret not having a recording device.
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The green werewolf couldn't even form a proper retort. He just swayed in place, screwed his eyes shut, and let out a low sound halfway between a groan and a whimper. Finally, he took in a deep breath to calm himself.
"Dude. Just. Stop. I did not need to see this tonight. Have fun with your sick, horrorifying 'outfit'."
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He waves one hand to get Beast Boy's attention, and then taps his throat with his fingers, before drawing one finger across. And then, because Beast Boy is not the brightest spark to ever glow, he emphasises his point by shaping his mouth around the words, even though his voice won't accompany them, "I cannot speak."
It's unlikely that Beast Boy can lip read, but he adds, just in case something of the message gets through regardless, a silent, "I did not choose this."
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Saix can't talk. Ohohoho. Saix can't- This just keeps getting better!
"What, you ripped out its jugular?" Arland supplies mock-incredulously from his 'viewing spot' off to the side, between fighting off a fierce round of sniggers.
"How barbaric!"
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That replica seemed to have trouble learning a lesson.
He shakes his head. The only reason he doesn't summon the claymore immediately to chase the brat off is because, when it came to convincing slightly histrionic vegetarians that it wasn't your own fault you were wearing a dead wolf, complete with head, and eyes, and legs, drawing a large, imposing, spiky weapon most likely was not the best way to go about it.
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"Y-you're going to kill me?! DUDE, HAVEN'T YOU SLAUGHTERED ENOUGH HELPLESS WOLVES TODAY?!"
He doesn't catch what Saix mouths silently, still shaking in fear. There's something seriously freaky about Saix tonight, and it's only the prevailing thought that they're supposed to be friends that keeps Beast Boy from bailing.
Heart racing and eyes wide, he turns to Arland. He grabs the other boy by the shoulders and shakes him hard enough to make anyone dizzy. "Dude, why did you bring me to him?! HE'S GOING TO WEAR MY SKIN AS A PARTY HAT! I'M TOO CUTE TO DIIIIIIIIEEEE!"
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