entrancelogs | + Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright!

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+ Trick or treat till the neighbors gonna die of fright! | OPEN +

Who: EVERYONE (if they want to live)
Where: EVERYWHERE (inside the mansion, knocking on doors)
When: 6/24 - 6/27
Rating: PG-13?
Summary: The Summerween Trickster has made his decree - Trick or treat...or die! This is a mingle log for Trick-or-Treating!
The Story:

On the morning of the 24th, everyone will find that the mansion was inexplicably decorated for Halloween...sort of. The idea behind the decorations is mostly the same, except that every jack-o-lantern is made out of a watermelon instead of a pumpkin. No, this is SUMMERWEEN.

For the first day it will be harmless enough, just a change in décor and a little spooky summer fun. However, by the second day there will be sightings of the Summerween Trickster, a creepy fellow made entirely out of unpopular loser candy, and he is not happy. In the entrance hall, there will be a giant jack-o-melon container with a counter and a count-down clock ticking away to the end of the event.

Your job, Wonderland, is to trick-or-treat for your lives. You have until the end of the event to deliver one million pieces of candy to the jack-o-melon before the end of the event, to appease the Summerween Trickster.

What was that? You'll just sit this out and wait for the event to end? I wouldn't do that if I were you. You see, the Summerween Trickster could be lurking around any corner. If he catches someone not fully embracing the spirit of Summerween (refusing to trick or treat, not wearing a costume, etc), they will not survive the experience. The Trickster will kill them and swallow them whole, making them part of his horrible loser candy body.

More details about trick or treating can be found here. This is a mingle post for trick-or-treating, if you'd rather use this than make a post! [Brackets] or prose are both welcome.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They don't even know if it's sincere or tongue-in-cheek, to be honest, parading around like this. Frisk as an angel of mercy, Chara as the demon that comes. It'd be a lie, they think, to pretend they don't feel some kind of weird sense of triumph that they get to strut around in front of everyone brazenly portraying themselves as a demon.

"Who doesn't like candy?" They blurt incredulously. "I'll eat everything. I like all of it. Except, uh... not weird grandma candy." Rock-solid marshmallow circus peanuts and weird jujubes and allsorts? "The kind that only exists in supermarket bulk bins. You know." Easy to steal, but so not worth it when you can get chocolate-covered peanuts out of the same bins.

"And soda. If that counts as candy. It's way too sweet. Oh, and licorice, too. That's gross. And jawbreakers. And those cinnamon hearts. Candy has no business being spicy. Actually, those little hearts with the messages on them, too? They taste like vitamins. But aside from those, all candy is good."

"Or raisins," says Frisk, nose wrinkling. They remember the old ladies who hand out apples and raisins and toothbrushes. Who does that? There had to be some of those in every neighborhood, on the lookout for innocent trick-or-treating to prey on, springing their gross healthy gifts on them out of nowhere. Despicable. Despicable. Despicable!

The thought makes them giggle.

"That's a lot of candy you don't like," says Frisk, tugging the wings on their back so they fit a little more securely. They feel a little stupid in this costume, but it's no weirder than running from monsters clad in a tutu or a cowboy hat or a...bepis.

Whatever that is.

"Doesn't make a lot of sense to say all candy then. But licorice? Really? Not even the red kind?"

The red kind that has no business being called licorice, by the way.

"Even the red licorice has a bad texture. It's all stiff and waxy. Like you're eating a really sugary candle. But it's edible, I guess?" Just tastes like... whatever red flavor is. Cherry? Strawberry? Pure unadulterated corn syrup?

Whatever it is, it's better than the black stuff. They wrinkle their nose at the mere thought of the black stuff. Recall a memory of a bowl full of absolutely ancient Monster Candy, the childish trick of promising a distinct, non-licorice flavour, the dull surprise of realizing they couldn't taste it at all.

"I mean, beggars can't be choosers, can they? If we're willing to eat dumpster food and cattails, then we're definitely willing to eat chalky conversation hearts and mummified grapes." They shrug, switch their toy pitchfork from one hand to another, suddenly get (and rapidly annihilate) the urge to see if they could do alternating light blue and orange swings if they tried to beat someone up with it.

"But we can always avoid the trash candy entirely, can't we? I bet the Great Pumpkin doesn't care what it gets, or who it gets it from."

"Like other candy isn't just flavoring and corn syrup." Frisk likes licorice, so they certainly won't care if they get any. And they can trade all their chocolate to Chara for it. Chocolate is nice, but it isn't their favorite like it is Chara's, and they won't mind forking it over.

Privately, they're a little delighted that Chara isn't pretending that they can't taste anymore. Clearly their opinions on candy outweigh that little façade.

"I dunno if we can risk it," Frisk says dubiously, as they fetch the last bit of their costume to match Chara's Asgore-esque trident: a clumsily-made harp, fashioned out of string and a nice curved stick they found. It doesn't work, but it looks like the ones they saw in the pictures, so it'll work well enough. "I'm sure it won't mind if we get to keep some of the candy, though. Does it matter what we get, or how hard we try to get it?"

"Don't know, don't care. It's exploitation, expecting us to work for candy and just hand it over for nothing. I'm charging a finder's fee, and I'm working at whatever pace I feel like." They're guessing Dipper would know, and they're also guessing that if they texted Dipper looking for exposition, he'd probably jump at the chance to recite his knowledge.

So, of course, they absolutely don't suggest asking Dipper. Not gonna give him the satisfaction.

"We went to all the trouble of dressing up. That's enough to prove we're putting in effort." Like Chara isn't loving their costume to bits. Like it's some kind of hassle. "If the Ghost of Christmas Past wants to get picky, then it can dress up and get its own Snickerses."

And speaking of getting Snickerses! "All set?"

"Ready!" They shoot Chara cheerful thumbs up. Went to all the trouble of dressing up their left shoe. Chara looks like they're enjoying themself already, and Frisk can't blame them. Putting everything together had been...fun. Really fun.

"You know," says Frisk, peering down the hall and taking note of the other trick-or-treaters roaming about in full costume, "I wonder if the tricks part might cause another prank war. You remember what happened last time, right?"

Now, with more people from their world here than ever, it could be even better this time!

"Don't dream it, be it," Chara advises, sagely. "Half the fun of Halloween is kicking in pumpkins and egging houses. It would be remiss to not pull a few pranks."

Especially since Wonderland itself may already be pranking them. An especially cunning individual might be able to prank so sneakily that they could just pass the blame right on to Wonderland if anyone got mad! Truly, a golden opportunity.

One that Chara keeps in the back of their mind as they sort of nudge Frisk with their toy pitchfork a bit, trying to steer them along the hall in the most irritating way possible. "Me, I'm going to be direct. I'm gonna assign a stat to this trident," they announce. "I'm gonna mug people with it. Rule the candy market with a fist of iron. I'm not just a demon, I'm a highway robber."

"On top of the ones the mansion's pulling on us?" Yeah, they can definitely smell something that's awfully reminiscent of rotten egg steaming from one of the doors further down. They carefully pick the opposite direction and march resolutely to the right instead. "It already smells like someone got egged."

And now Chara's poking them. This is fine. They can't exactly do anything annoying with a fake harp. Maybe hit them on the head a bit. But that would be mean, so they adamantly do not do that.

"* Fake trident," says Frisk lightly. "* 1 ATK. For stealing candy from babies. Truly, you'll be striking fear in the hearts of all trick-or-treaters, everywhere!"

The snort of laughter that earns maybe isn't the most dignified noise Chara could make, but it erupts out of them before they can bite down the impulse. Stealing candy from babies! That's clever! That's exactly the cartoonish villainy they're sinking to, isn't it?

Their giggles taper off. Cartoonish. Harmless. Childish. That's... they settled into that so easily, didn't they? Just slipped on a costume and started getting all excited. It sort of takes them by surprise, how... how effortlessly? How willingly? How utterly they can embrace... not miserable? Not punishing? Not... a real demon. Just pretending to be one. Is that really... responsible? Okay? Repentant enough? Real, or just... faking?

They bite their tongue. Swallow their misgivings, their uncertainty. Respond to guidance. Let Frisk be happy. (Or let Frisk be mildly irritated, because Chara prods them with the trident again.) "If you get to do the trident, then I get to do yours, too. That's only fair, right?"

Fair. Haha. Like it's a game. ...It is a game, isn't it? "* Fake harp," Chara replies. " 0 ATK. Somehow, you've managed to make a stick even more harmless."

"Har har," says Frisk, but they're still grinning. "That's the point. Or...I guess that pun doesn't work with a harp."

They can make all the pointed remarks they want, though, because Chara is poking them again. Frisk stops to knock one of the doors to the empty rooms on the second floor. There's a long pause before it opens, and deposits a small shower of candy bars.

"Chocolate with almonds," says Frisk, reading the wrappers with their head to one side. "Is that a win or a lose? Or are they just, um...stringing us along?"

They've definitely been hanging around Sans too much.

"Give me one," Chara demands, groaning. "Pun tax." Plus, you know, it's chocolate. They're getting their fill of candy out of this event, so help them. One million pieces of candy sounds like a stupid and unattainable quota, and they're probably all gonna die anyway as a result, so may as well die with chocolate.

It occurs to them a second later that nothing's stopping them from getting their own supply. They hold a hand out anyway, clearly expecting Frisk to surrender some of their hard-earned candy, but scoot one door over and knock.

The response is almost immediate. It opens, but rather than spitting out candy, a blizzard of glitter erupts forth. They stand, speechless, their entire front pasted in a wall of sparkly festive colours.

Frisk shrugs as they drop one in Chara's bag and then load up the rest in theirs. It's not much, but it's a start, and that's the important thing. Maybe it's the effort rather than any real definitive number that'll pull them through. And look at the pair of them, all dressed up and thoroughly gung-ho about the whole thing.

"I already - " Frisk begins to say, but then Chara gets liberally doused in glitter, and they clap their hands to their mouth as they desperately to try to avoid bursting into a fit of giggles. Chara looks...ridiculous. Like a clown vomited all over them.

"Y-you better not tell Sans about that," Frisk whispers, voice trembling with the effort to keep from laughing. "He'll have a field day with that one."

"I cannot believe," Chara sputters, looking about as red as their costume. You know. Under the glitter. They can't even get revenge for this! What, they're gonna beat up a door? Take it out on Wonderland itself? They've changed their mind. This event is the worst. They juggle their pitchfork awkwardly as they try to shake all the sparklies off of them.

It's futile. They're going to be combing glitter from their hair a year from now.

At least Frisk is trying not to laugh.

"Forget telling him, I'm gonna see if I can get the mansion to pull this trick on him too. If I suffer, I'm not suffering alone!"

"I think it might be random," says Frisk, still gamely struggling to maintain a straight face at the sheer indignity of Chara's current mood. "I mean, chances are I'll get one of those too. Or...something worse. I might get hit with a rotten egg!"

They sound remarkably cheerful about the prospect.

"I don't think you're supposed to want to smell like bad eggs," Chara points out, shaking their head vigorously to try and dislodge all the sparkles in their hair. It whips up a tiny cloud of glitter, but mostly it just manages to knock their plastic horns off-kilter.

"I'm not trick-or-treating with you anymore if you're gonna smell like a trash dump." Totally a grim and serious threat, even if they kind of suspect that neither of them spent a lot of Halloweens prior to this with anyone but themself for company.

"You're gonna get it on me!" Frisk squeals as the glitter puffs up. It's sticking to everything. They're gonna have glitter on the rug and in their bedsheets for weeks.

Oh well. At least angels are supposed to be glittery, kind of. Probably? Maybe.

"That wouldn't be my fault!"

"Good. As ex-soulmates, clearly out fates are inextricably linked. If I suffer in glitter purgatory, so do you." Chara announces smugly.

Then immediately reconsiders.

"But if you do get egged, keep it away from me. I make a point of not hanging out with... with stinklings," they blurt, for want of a better insulting term. "With eggheads. With... uh, with rotnoggins?" This is hard! They lapse into thoughtful silence, then just decide to tug Frisk along to the next door. Bound to be better loot behind this one, right?

Nope. No such luck. A couple popcorn balls so stale and so hard that they would probably double as effective projectile weapons.

Soulmates. That sounds really...sappy, but they don't mind sappy. They just didn't think Chara did sappy. Not that Frisk is complaining.

"Are you trying to egg me on?" Frisk teases, eyeing their rock-hard popcorn ball and tossing it up and down, as if they were weight a baseball. Definitely been hanging around Sans too much.

"I wonder if it really is random," they mutter, but decide not to dwell at that door any longer. If Chara's last attempt for candy taught them anything, it was that trying the same door twice wouldn't yield good results.

"Don't even yolk about that," Chara grumbles, and impetuously attempts to plunge their hand right into Frisk's candy sack to grab something, as bold as if they own the whole place. Pun tax.

"If we'd brought a notebook, then I bet we could map out which door gives what. See how it compares to everyone else. We could have a chart of which doors to avoid and which ones to keep visiting in slightly different costumes," they muse. It's incredibly extra of them, but this is Chara, after all. They of the "do absolutely nothing halfway" mentality. The resident completionist. The more they consider it, the more it sort of appeals. It is likelier that it's all randomized, but wouldn't it be satisfying to chart it out, to seek out and record every result?

"What if we SAVE before we try a door? See if it's RNG or not."

"You wanna use our SAVEs to figure out if it's trick or treat behind a door?" Frisk asks, torn between amused and exasperated. The thought of delicious candy behind the door...fills you with determination? They've been filled with determination by more ridiculous things (Temmie village comes to mind) but still.

All Frisk's bag has so far is chocolate bars with almonds, but they don't fight when Chara rummages around in there. It's chocolate anyway, so they'll like it regardless, probably.

"It'd be easier than trying to map it out, I guess," says Frisk.

So why not?

They move to the next door and feel themselves filling with determination.

They can feel Frisk willing a SAVE into existence. Feel the tug in their shattered SOUL, even if they aren't the one drawing on that power. Good, saves them the effort. (Ha. Saves.)

They pull a chocolate bar from Frisk's bag, unwrap it, help themselves to a bite. You'd think the week they survived almost exclusively off chocolate bars and depression would have curbed their appetite for the stuff, but nope. Still good.

"Trick or treat," they announce around a mouthful of chocolate, knocking on the door. A pause. It opens. It spits out a few toothbrushes and packets of dental floss that clatter sadly to the floor.

Hmmm. All right, that was a trick, even if it wasn't quite as explosive as that little glitter prank. Frisk scowls at the output.

"All right, time to see if this is what we get every time."

They reach for their SAVE file...

And this time Frisk knocks on the door.

"Trick or treat!" they call out cheerfully. Does Chara still have the taste of chocolate in their mouth? Probably not, but maybe the doors can sense whether or not someone was eating the candy they were supposed to deliver to the Trickster. There's all sorts of possibilities, honestly.

This time, the door deposits several bags of Skittles into their open bag.

"Guess it is random," Frisk says matter-of-factly.

"You realize what this means?" Chara asks, repeating their actions from the last trial. Namely, helping themselves to a chocolate bar from Frisk's bag. Keep this up long enough, and they could basically cheat their way into enjoying the same mouthful of chocolate or so into infinity!

"We can game the system. Beat Wonderland at its own antics. All we need to do is SAVE each time, and just reload if it doesn't give up anything good." After all, this world was the one that set the rules down. Not Chara's problem if they can turn the rules to their own advantage, is it?

Yes. They're going to do it. They're going to SAVEscum Wonderland.

Frisk feels like maybe they should protest this, like maybe this could take the fun out of it? But heck with it, they can use this to help other people get more candy too, right? Yeah. Exactly.

"We can get the Trickster his candy," says Frisk slowly, grin slowly creeping over their face, "and have lots to spare."

So they can have their chocolate and eat it too!

im like the wind buddy YOU CANT PREDICT ME YOU CANT CONTROL ME

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SAVE 1.0

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