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

[vitaelamorte]

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.

Comments

[morework]

[ The door opens. Cullen catches the candy, frowning. ]

It's a poor comparison. Their tribes live in isolation. I don't have the luxury.

[ Three pieces. Better than last time. Worse than it ought to be. Cullen tosses them into the bag, and pulls a small parchment scroll from his belt. Three more notches to it. Does anyone else even keep track? Somehow he has his doubts. ]

Do your cats wear the mage robes now?

[ That would be one of the less surprising things since his capture. ]

[circlejerked]

_{[Even on a happy day during a rather ridiculous, innocuous event, something about Cullen--about what Cullen used to represent, and still does somewhat--makes Anders show a little fang. His tone stays even, playful almost, but the retort is unmistakable.]}

You don't seem to mind people living in isolation--but maybe it's different when it's not you. You're right, though. They're more civilized on a whole.

_[#rimshot]

My cats are Grey Wardens! Well, one is. The other wouldn't let me catch him.

<sub>[Said with complete flippancy, the sardonic undertone evaporating in a flash like it'd never been. Slipping back into position on the trick-or-treating chain gang, Anders steps up to a door on the opposite side of the hall and loudly proclaims "trick or treat!"

The door opens and candy launches out of it like it'd been set on a spring trap; Anders seems unbothered by it hitting him in the chest; bunching the baggy middle of his costume up like the ends of an apron so that the candy pools in the middle. After that, it's a simple matter of pouring it out into his bag.]</sub>

I'm surprised to see you out and about--and not just because of the costume. I figured your pride would be the death of you.

_{[Quite literally.]}

[morework]

[ Cullen glances sideways, but doesn't spare Anders a frown. Instead he tries to count the pieces. Enough that he doesn't get them all before they disappear into the apron.

Good, he makes himself think pointedly. Good for the numbers they need to accomplish. Good. Because somewhere in his mind "Anders" and "success in his endeavours" is still closely linked to headaches of varying degrees, otherwise. Good work, again, all but out loud. ]

This was hardly my first choice. [ Nor would it have been much of a second or eighty-fifth, for that matter. ] But I talked to the people more familiar with this tradition, but their information on fighting the creature was- not something to stake anyone's life on. As little as that seems to matter here.

[ Wonderland toys with life and death, and Cullen still hasn't come to terms with that in the slightest. Bethany's return to life still troubles him, but whether that is a discussion to be had with a healer or necromancer he's not yet entirely sure.

He moves to the next door instead. ]

--And unfortunately I gave my word that I would attempt this instead, so here I am.

[ Alive and well and deeply sorry to disappoint on the death-seeking front. ]

[circlejerked]

_{[You can always count on Anders to excel at an activity designed for small children and amateur pranksters.}}

You're scared of an indestructible candy monster? I'm shocked. Who's that giant weapon reserved for if not the monster with a sweet tooth: me, or Jowan, or both?

_{[Now that his mirthful outburst has subsided, Anders doesn't seem to have any qualms about keeping pace with Cullen on the other side of the hallway, keeping him in view in the periphery of his vision. This could all turn out to be a dream and if he takes his eyes away for even a second, Cullen might stop walking around in his underthings and body paint.]}

You must be catching the worst draft in that get-up.

[morework]

[ "Trick or treat," Cullen says again, and wonders if the trick is to put more or less insistence into his voice. That the clothing serves well enough in summer he doesn't say, and when candy flies through the door he doesn't catch it. Instead the pieces smack against his chest, and fall to the floor, as he stares across the hallway to Anders. Maker, Hawke, the blighted things he puts up with for you. ]

Just because I won't seek out a fight wit it doesn't mean there won't be one.

[ Because when did it ever? But that is not what caught Cullen's attention. He picks up the pieces from the floor. Counts, bags. Decides that he's in for another headache, whether he pretends he didn't hear or not. All right, get it over with. ]

You and Jowan aren't the only mages trapped here. Do you want me to ask what brought this on?

[circlejerked]

... I'm not picking that up for you. Just don't moon me, please.

<sub>[You know, in case that's the reason Cullen's staring accusingly across at him like Anders is to blame for the depressing course his life has taken.

Picking candy off the floor like a hassled housewife. This Summerween Trickster really is a sadistic bastard.]</sub>

But we're from your old Circle. _{[Said with the rose-colored nostalgia of someone reflecting on the dear friends they made at summer camp.]} We have a special connection.

[morework]

[ Cullen has regrets. Many of them needed years to truly sink in. The one about asking Anders that question took all of three seconds. ]

Of course. We should have worn matching costumes, [ he says, his tone flatter than the scorched earth underneath the Temple of Sacred Ashes' ruins.

Unmooning he kneels, and picks up the spoils of this grueling task. He would have no intention of breaking his silence then, but unfortunately he just reminded himself of a somewhat important point. And unfortunately Anders might know more. ]

...Jowan, did you see him today? Is he participating in this?

[ (Cullen has made mistakes. Many of them he has learned valuable lessons from over the years. The one about asking Anders more questions is not one of them.) ]

[circlejerked]

Body paint's not really my style. Besides, I like mine. It's cozy.

_{[Anders follows Cullen's efforts as closely as a judge at a swim competition, waiting to see if Cullen's going to give him a chance to tease him over a glimpse of his lily white unmentionables. No such luck. Alas, he'll have to keep mocking him about all the skin he can see.]}

Beats me. I haven't seen him. _{[He still has one eye on the ex-templar as he raps on another door.]} I hear you have his phylactery. Why don't you just use that?

_{[The emphasis he puts on the word has the quality of sandpaper being rubbed against porcupine quills.]}

[morework]

[ Cullen gathers up all the fallen pieces. He stows them away in his bag. He adds their number - five - to his scroll. He scowls when the second boot drops. Maker, Jowan, of all the people to tell. ]

Wonderland's devices will do fine. Someone needs to make sure none of us get themselves killed over this nonsense.

[ Because there is bait, and Cullen is giving it a wide berth.

(A visit in person would do just as well, though now Cullen wonders if Anders had a mind to talk Jowan into moving floors, as well.) ]

[circlejerked]

So you're not denying you're keeping it. You two must be more homesick than I thought to go back to playing Mage and Templar.

_{[Clutching onto a vial of Jowan's blood like a housewife clutches her pearls is such a templar thing to do, he'd expect nothing less. Between Jowan and Cullen, Cullen's not the one he'd picture advocating to destroy it--age has changed him, but surely not that much.]}

I thought you said you were retired. _{[Anders is unflagging in his pestering. He bangs on another door, shoves the resulting spoils into his sack, and carries on speaking.]} He's probably fine, relax. Eat some candy. Unclench. Save the micromanaging for the people who actually need it.

_{[But who wants to bet five pieces of candy that helpful advice will go in through one side of that pretty little barbarian head and out the other?]}

[morework]

You know I have it, what would be the point? [ Is it still bait when Anders is all but shoving it down Cullen's throat? ] Jowan found the phylactery in the Deep Roads. He asked me to keep it, and I did. I will, until he asks me to do otherwise.

[ Exactly what did Jowan tell him, anyway? Suppose it hardly matters. This is all Cullen would say on the subject, though he doubts Anders' commentary ends there, as well.

Little to do about it, save for disregarding all that advice while he waits. Cullen pulls out his communication device. ]

We're not supposed to eat any of it ourselves, [ he mutters half-heartedly, and starts typing.

A moment later Jowan will have received a text message, reminding him to play along with this ridiculous holiday for his own safety.

(That the closets will give him a costume if he asks.) ]

[circlejerked]

Apparently you and Jowan have both completely missed the point, holding onto something that Wonderland imagined into being.

_{[Speaking of missing the point, there Cullen goes, getting out his device to keep looming over their errant blood mage. He holds back a sigh. You can take the templar out of the Order, but you can't take the Order out of the templar, it would seem.]}

Good idea, I should send Jowan that picture. Since, you know, we're busy keeping tabs on him and everything.

<sub>[Anders hopes his faith in Jowan's survival instinct isn't actually misplaced, or else Anders is going to have to admit Cullen had a point and that's really going to chafe his cat-costumed ass. You have one job, Jowan, and that's not to plant egg on Anders' face, got it?

While Cullen clicks away at the keys, Anders presents another door with the million sovereign question ("trick or treat?"). The door opens, but not with a treat in mind, that's for sure. A bunch of violently bright pink toy mice spray out in a wide arc, dropping like clumps of hail all around them.

The rooms seem to have a thing for mice of all kinds today.]</sub>

... Huh.

[morework]

When it doesn't try to lure us into embracing our captivity it uses memories to torment us. The point is hard to miss. You talked to Jowan about it, what did he say?

[ Jowan hasn't asked for his phylactery back, so far. Anders isn't gloating. The conversation can't have been very satisfying.

...Much as Jowan's response isn't, when Cullen receives a message from the mage shortly after. Something to the effect of not wanting to venture outside in costume, and thinking his room the safer place to hole up. Maker's breath. ]

Send the picture. It might convince him that looking ridiculous is the whole idea. Otherwise he'll keep hiding under his bed until--

[ --pink mice start raining from the sky. Wait. What? Cullen grimaces. ]

...What did you do?

[ He catches one of the mice before it falls, and gives it a squeeze. It doesn't feel particularly edible, though monster standards might differ. ]

[circlejerked]

You mean you didn't see me hex that door so it'd pelt you with cat toys? I'm hurt! Am I not your favorite abomination anymore? Do I not hold your attention?

<sub>[Anders juts his bottom lip in a look of pouting dismay. Cullen, your mild, distracted accusations wound him deeply, they really do. Next Cullen's going to say the training wheels are off and he won't watch Anders cast spells from over his shoulder anymore.

So this is what it's like to be abandoned!]</sub>

At least you're honest about taking advantage of Wonderland's trickery to torment Jowan with his phylactery. _{[There's still hope for Cullen to make Templar of the Month.]} What do you think he said? He's afraid he's going to walk into a room and find you wielding a brand for the Rite of Tranquility. He's probably thinking it right now.

<sub>[Granted, Anders hasn't done much to dissuade him of the notion that all templars, retired or otherwise, are the twice removed cousins of demons, but the point is that Cullen's only giving Jowan an excuse to cower.

Forgetting the pile of mice for the time being, he pulls out his device. Let it not be said Anders passes up an opportunity to spread embarrassing photos. He sends the attachment with a brief message: Come out and laugh at the view.]</sub>

There. Sent. I wonder if I can keep the toys? My cats would like them.

[morework]

That's not what I meant, and you know it.

[ On both counts, even. And yet, prickling at the back of his neck Cullen feels the beginnings of a headache. Briefly he holds out hope that it might only be the agonies of withdrawal. But no, this is so much worse. This is Anders touching on something resembling a valid point.

Jowan didn't benefit from destroying his old phylactery in the slightest. It only makes sense to seize a chance to undo his mistake, even in circumstances such as these. Unfortunately, despite the blood magic, it is hard to ignore that he is cowed by years in the Circle. Cullen presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, against the growing ache. Unfortunately the point still stands. ]

Fine. I'll speak to him about it. There's no sense in holding on to that thing on my account.

[ If that is truly what he does, heavily implied in Cullen's glare. Which only trails off to look at the swarm of pink mice around them. He pokes at one with his foot. It squeaks plaintively. ]

At worst the holiday creature will accuse you of stealing its offerings. Whatever punishment that entails.

[ Can it really be worse than the one they already wear? Cullen doubts it. ]

[circlejerked]

Which part are you referring to?

<sub>[The counter is paired with an arch of an eyebrow.

He assumes Cullen will ignore him (mostly because that's probably what Anders would do in his shoes), but the pained look on his face suggests a moment of honest, sincere thought.]</sub>

What's this? I thought he was joking when he insinuated you were trying to screw his head back on straight and not simply lop it off with one swing of your... _{[His gaze dips to Cullen's waist.]} ... cleaver. I expected you to be the one keeping Jowan on the shortest leash of all.

<sub>[And Jowan isn't like Anders. He can't picture Jowan standing his ground against Cullen if Cullen truly intended to take command of him, if this phylactery situation is any indication of his resolve to butt heads with every Chantry tradition ever imagined.

Anders likes to imagine he also has a bit more of a self-preservation instinct. Provoking a man-eating monster when no one seems to have the slightest idea of how to defeat it? He wrinkles his nose, reluctantly bending to scoop the pink monstrosities into his bag in a fair impersonation of a cat given his costume.]</sub>

You might be onto something. Best not to take the chance. Jowan can get devoured if he wants to, I'm not about to be.