Sebak emerged from the bathroom in his costume and Tish looked down at him from the ladder where she was putting up orange lights. She sniggered. "Oh, very creative."

Sebak raised an eyebrow. "Is that sarcastic?"

"No," Tish said.

"Why is my costume uncreative? As far as I'm aware this isn't a common costume."

"Yes, but a logical person dressing as Sherlock Holmes is stereotypical."

"Obviously, Sherlock Holmes appeals to those with logical minds. And if you ae comparing me to Data, I would like to point out that Data said he finds Vulcan philosophy limiting."

"You've got a point," she conceded, climbing down. "Will you help me with the pumpkins?"

Sebak picked up his pumpkin - which he had only carved at Tish's insistence, and was therefore a mathematically precise jack o'lantern - and followed her out the door. She set her pumpkin - which had googly eyes and a lopsided grin - on one side of the door and Sebak set his on the other.

Sebak watched as she darted back in, grabbed crepe streamers, and added them to the door. When she returned, he said, "I'm confused as to what you are supposed to be."

"I couldn't decide," she said. "So I'm going as my fandoms."

She wore a set of Gryffindor robes over a Camp Half-Blood T-shirt and jeans. Her DS9 combadge was pinned to the robes.

He nodded. "Quite creative."

"Thank you!" she said, strolling over to the replicator and punching something in. A bowl of assorted full-sized candy bars materialized, and she carried it to a table next to the door.

"All right, we're ready!"

Sebak nodded solemnly.

Marco West was busy running about the RC hanging various decorations up. "Love this time of year" he said calling to Agent Jameson who sat back in his chair muttering. "Really? I hadn't noticed you even got Fat'gun into the spirt." The Nightguant mini flew quietly by carrying a CD which was placed in a boombox, Marco then pushed play as he checked to make sure the treats were set. "Everything is perfect!" Marco said clapping his hands together in joy "You think Sif might stop by?" The Marshal simply shrugged and gripped his Shockmaul as Fat'gun stared it's faceless stare at a black dragon D&D figure but recoiled when it heard the sound of the weapon powering up. "I don't know and frankly don't care." he said annoyed as he went back to his planning and Marco eagerly Awaited Trick or Treaters.

The door of RC #2771a was normally adorned with a cheeseburger wrapper, a used band-aid, or any other vaguely sticky detritus the inhabitants hand in hand when they reached the door. Today most of the junk had been cleared away and a plastic skull with gold paint liberally slopped on it had been hung from the lintel.

Inside, the RC consisted of just one large room lined with consoles, lockers, closets, and several mattresses in various states of disarray. An ornate four-poster bed and a carved wooden cabinet hiding the console gave the impression that someone civilized, or at least ridiculously good at whittling, was trying to impose order on the place; judging by the large number of discarded socks and used dishes, that person was having an uphill struggle of it. A mini-Balrog and a mini-Dragon were curled up together on a disused George Foreman grill, snoozing happily. In a hamster cage, a small fluffy black thing with malevolent red eyes was gnawing on a squeaky rubber Palantir.

Suicide and Diocletian had been dealing with a crushing schedule for several weeks, and Halloween was their first chance to relax and breathe--so of course, there was a trick-or-treat scheduled. Diocletian had been all for skipping out and putting a big "do not disturb" sign on the door but Suicide, to her surprise, was all for participating. (Dio found herself thinking she should've guessed that Su would be eager to share a holiday all about staring mortality and evil in the face.) After a rather juvenile argument and several bouts of name-calling, they'd finally reached an agreement: they would dress up and hand out candy for the trick-or-treaters, but Suicide was not permitted to buy or make any kind of weird, creepy costume. "No trauma allowed," as she'd put it.

So, with a knowing look that she wasn't sure she liked, he'd dug through his wardrobe and come up with loose leather trousers, chest armor, black hair dye, random streaky paint on his shoulders and kohl on his eyes. Dio figured it was some kind of Emo Mongol thing, but at least it didn't involve the skin of his enemies. Dio herself had borrowed some greasepaint and was now a zombie agent.

RC #13PKHC's door had a big X struck over it in caution tape- a decoration that had always been there, ever since before its current owners, a pair of DAVD agents, moved in. On the other side, stood a Pikachu wearing a blue cat costume, and beside him, sat a human male with a bushy brown handlebar moustache, wearing a pink bunny costume and holding a large bowl of candy in his lap.

"Shockah, remin' meh why we're dressed up as furry animals that're colored wrong?" asked the human, in a slow Southern drawl.

"Well, neither of us can think of anything scary without unintentionally reminiscing about one of our missions. Remember?"

"Yeah... that'd ment'ly scar th' kids fer sure..."

"So we came up with something both of us can guarantee could not scare- or mentally scar- anyone, just to play it safe."

"Yeah, now I r'member..."

And so, the blue cat and giant pink bunny, in an RC decorated in an Easter-esque style very much at odds with what most people would consider Halloweenish, awaited the first kids that would knock on their door and request candy.

Wave Crest looked over to Florestan. The pony shook his hoof, trying to get used to the shoe that Florestan insisted he wear. He looked right at the agent where he was sitting, tapping his fingers.

"So..." Wave Crest said. "Remind me why I'm currently dressed like I just walked off the set of Amadeus."

Florestan shook his head. "Not Amadeus!" he replied. "I was thinking more... Immortal Beloved, really." Florestan shrugged, standing up and gesturing to the waistcoat he was wearing. "Now I, on the other hand... Well, actually, that's not Amadeus either. Baroque period costume gets a little crazy like that."

Wave Crest snorted. "I can't believe you talked me into decorating this RC like some kind of ball in... um... Marie Antoinette or something."

"They call it the French court," said Florestan. "And despite the fact that it screwed the poor over, it actually was a pretty sweet-looking place. Seriously, the stuff in there was--"

Florestan was interrupted by a gurgling sound that came from close to the door. He then looked to see Shumann sitting there stuffing its face with...

"Oh, god damn it, Shumann!" Florestan shouted, stamping his way over to the mini. "What did I tell you about eating the candy!?"

"Okay, is the candy ready?"

"Yeah, just about. Are you sure we're good on Dextro candy?"

"To my knowledge, you and Saim are the only ones around the PPC that need that, so... we'll be fine."

"Whatever you say."

Cindy adjusted her Morrigan costume and patted the bun in her hair one more time. She then looked at the makeshift staff before looking to Xanthus. "Well, I guess we just wait for the kids then."

Xanthus nodded, sitting back in the couch. He adjusted his custom-made Dead Space style armor again, looking at the fake plasma cutter in his hand. "Well, it's that human holiday again, it feels like. I never did get why you run around in these things."

"Well, we just do it," Cindy replied. "And it's fun, so..."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Xanthus replied. "Well, here's to another fun Halloween!"

"Yeah," said Cindy as she leaned on the wall.

The interior of RC #1110 was fairly terrifying without any extra effort on anyone's part, home as it was to a giant spider, a demon of fire and shadow, and a wicked-looking blue dragon with slit-eyes and lots of yellow fangs. There were always cobwebs, and it always smelled of brimstone. Today, the interior was lit only by the glow of Arasgorn the mini-Balrog and a dozen tall black candles on the console, from which came a steady stream of pipe organ music (always unnervingly not-quite-in-tune). Severe the mini-Aragog skulked in a corner of his web. Snerri the Monstrous Nightmare lay just inside the door, keeping watch. On either side of the door were two large Jack O'lanterns carved with leering faces.

Gall Bonecrusher, flatly forbidden from egging other RCs or jumping people for their loot, contented herself with decking out in full Viking battle gear and painting her face like a skull. She had wanted to get her hands on some synthetic flames from the Hunger Games 'verse, but those were sadly hard to come by. She lurked in the dark space between the console and the wall next to the door, waiting for the first chance to jump out.

Derik posted himself in a chair just outside the door to prevent this from happening. He was actually somewhat less hard on the eyes than usual by dint of a black mask a la the Dread Pirate Roberts, which covered up some of the scars and obscured the blind eye on the right side of his face. He refused to be the Phantom, ever, ever, but he acceded to being the Pirate to his partner's Viking. Rather than candy, he'd brewed up a sweetened and milky batch of Pernese klah to ladle into paper Dixie cups for thirsty trick-or-treaters.

And when it was over, they were both bound for Rudi's for some real fun.

The door to RC 845 was left open and was covered in fake spiderwebs made of white yarn and plastic spiders. In the middle of the doorway sat a brass cauldron on a magical fire. It was tended by Yakov, who was dressed in a pointed black hat and his usual battered travelling cloak. The wizard occasionally added ingredients to the cauldron, causing the contents to glow different colours and bubble ominously.

A perch stood next to the doorway, supporting a sinister-looking yet sleepy Murkrow. A large bowl of candy was placed on a stool next to the perch, with a simple "Help yourself... if you dare!" sign propped against the container. The Darkness Pokémon occasionally woke up to squawk at passersby or to cast Mean Look on someone who tried to take more than their fair share of sugar.

The door to RC #999 was a sliding Star Trek model with controls mounted to the wall beside it. It was closed and unadorned except for a piece of printer paper reading "KNOCK AT YOUR OWN RISK" in large, bold text, with "AT YOUR OWN RISK" scribbled out and "PLEASE!" written underneath in neat blue pencil. Perhaps the occupant was going for a hair-raising Jekyll & Hyde effect, but then again, perhaps he'd been coerced into participating in something he really didn't want to by dint of a long, heated conversation with his partner, who had unaccountably developed a fondness for small children. It was hard to say.

RC 9.81 had been transformed from its normal self into something much more in fitting with the holiday celebration that had gripped parts of the HQ. A sign above the door on the outside read "Happy All Hallows Eve" whilst hastily scrawled underneath in brackets was "Halloween". The door itself was black with an orange face painted two thirds of the way down the door at what both Apollo and Kelly had deemed 'kids height'.
Inside the RC James 'Apollo' Peirson and Kelly Jones, daughter of Apollo (thankfully not James) were all prepared, even if the former was rolling on the floor laughing as Kelly tried to talk to him.
"Seriously Apollo, she had her own shop and everything.'Auntie Em's Gnome Emporium'." Kelly dressed as Circe stomped her foot in frustration as Apollo managed to get out an answer before he started laughing again.
"Yeah, sure. I know you're rehearsing what you're going to say to the kids, but seriously? A gnome emporium? is that the best you can do?" Dressed as Sportsmaster, a relatively unscary looking villain from the DC universe Apollo lifted up the hockey mask covering his face for a breath and saw the look on Kelly's face. "You're serious aren't you?" Kelly nodded. Apollo continued "Well, it looks like we swapped personalities for a bit. Want yours back?"
Kelly smiled, "Why? so I can see you make a prat of yourself again?"
Apollo shook his head. "I think I've done that enough for today. Anyway, aren't the kids meant to be around soon? Shouldn't we do an inventory check and make sure this place does look like a super-villians lair?"
Kelly shrugged. "With you being serious now we might as well."

As ever, RC log e's white wooden door was slightly ajar, illuminating a small patch of corridor as well as letting the scent of freshly-baked cookies and the sound of a whistling kettle out.
The RC (certainly its door) was conspicuous in its lack of decorations, though a small, Titanic-like ship was swimming back and forth through the air near its lintel like a bizarre guard.

On the corridor wall beneath the trapdoor that was the entrance to RC #−273.15, a large and obvious arrow had been painted in glow-in-the-dark green paint. Next to it ws a pull-chain connected to a bell. The arrow pointed upwards to where two pumpkins hung from the ceiling, suspended on ropes made to look like spider silk.

One pumpkin depicted a vague likeness of a goblin's face - whoever had carved this pumpkin had probably done it with a sword, or at least a dagger, so it was only a very rough semblence.

The other pumpkin could not have been more different. All the cuts were clean and straight - if slightly singed - and it seemed to bear the likeness of a gargoyle.

Set in the ceiling between the pumpkins was a trapdoor, around the edges of which came an eerie green glow (reflected from Cyba's alcove via a series of mirrors). Beyond, Eagrus had rigged up a pulley with more of the 'spider silk' rope, on the end of which was a plastic cauldron draped with cobwebs and filled with the good old failsafe that was chocolate.

Sara and Zach had made quite an effort for this Hallowe'en. The RC door had been covered with black paper, on which orange cut-outs - several of them rather wonky - of pumpkins, bats, witches on brooms, and other such spooky images had been stuck. Fake cobwebs trailed down the hinges.

Inside, the room was similarly festooned wiith a kind of carnival spookiness. Black and orange streamers were everywhere, several walls were draped in black, and cobwebs were tucked anywhere a cobweb could possibly go and several places they couldn't. Recordings of dramatic organ music and deep laughter were playing, although at a suitably quiet "atmospheric" level so as not to deafen or upset anyone.

And, of course, an extremely large bowl of assorted sweets was on the table.

The RC's door was wide open, with Vania standing expectantly just inside and dressed in Spartan armor (sans helmet). By virtue of an extension cord, the RC's mini-fridge had been scooted next to the door. Little plush Behemoths, spiders and Zubats were pinned into the generic surface around the door frame. The doorway was lit by a green glow (not as a decoration, but simply due to the mini-Hound of the Baskervilles who was resident there).

In the background, Doc was pacing a random path around the RC. He wasn't in uniform, but was still celebrating Halloween by binging on Stephen King, Edgar Allan Poe and H. P. Lovecraft short stories. Occasionally, he would start reading aloud, but Vania was making sure to stop him from scaring any children with liberal application of thrown object.

In the hallway, directly outside of RC #901/1Y was a small sign. It read,

Happy Nightmare Night!
(or Halloween!)

The door itself was painted with a large Nightmare Night symbol:

Inside, Marvin and Printworthy waited for children to visit, so to give the finest Equestrian Nightmare Night treats they could get their hands/hooves on. Candy Apples from Sweet Apple Acres, Bon-Bons, Rainbow Taffy, Zap Apple treats, and other Equestrian confectionaries awaited. Along with the treats, a full Nightmare Night celebration was in hand. Music from Equestria and the brony fandom played over soe 'borrowed' speakers fro a particular DJ. Classic games such as spider toss, apple bobbing, and pumpkin catapulting (directed through portals) were set and waited to be played. Of corse, no Nightmare Night celebration was complete without a statue of Nightmare Moon to offer candy to.

Marvin was dressed as a humanized Shining Armor, as he paced across the RC floor, practicing his telling of the Tale of Nightmare Moon as he waited for people to arrive. "Every year, we put on a disguise, to save ourselves from her scanning eyes. No, wait...searching. To save ourselves from her searching eyes..."

Printworthy shook his head, himself waiting patently for children to stop by so he could bring them some cheer that Nightmare Night. He chose to wear Daring Do's outfit, having decided that he should acknowledge his former position as the author of the popular book seres. He smiled slightly, as he fully anticipated to have several little ones attempt to hug him. Several big ones, too. He held no intention of stopping them.

Somehow the entrance to this particular response center has been redone in a colonial air, with dramatic columns and swathes of luxurious red velvet. The door is wide open, revealing Rachel Calendar dressed as an unconvincing George Washington (his teeth were never that shiny, and his grin likely never that wide due to the aforementioned teeth) and a holographic projection of Cornelius's avatar decked out like Benjamin Franklin, complete with receding stringy hairline and overstuffed waistline. They appear to be engrossed in a debate over the framing of the Constitution. A large bowl of assorted sweets is perched on the edge of Cornelius's projector.

The entrance to this particular response center has been made up in a color fashion, with black-and-orange streamers above the door and pumpkins flanking on either side. The pumpkins are... a little odd, let's say. One bears the image of of Claptrap (from Borderlands) while the other has a hooded assassin (from Assassin's Creed). Instead of candles, they are lit up with what appear to be emergency flares.

The door is currently closed, but a fake gothic knocker has been crudely glued to it.

The Official HQ Trick or Treat had been announced by console post for the last week. The whole thing was being coordinated through the Nursery: everyone taking kids out—their own or as a chaperone—was to meet up there first and check in.

The reception area of the Nursery was currently festooned with an explosion of arts and crafts, most of it with a motif of pumpkin-orange, cat-black, and bone-white, but there was the occasional spot of zombie-green and hellfire-red. It was generally agreed that none of the things depicted with the Crayolas, popsicle sticks, and paper plates were actually scary, of course, but Halloween wasn't about fear. It was about dressing up and panhandling for sugar.

There were already a wide array of costumes milling about, waiting for the okay to start. One knot of people was comprised of a silver-haired Mother of Dragons with a little green dragon holding one hand, a little white dragon holding the other, and a little black dragon pinned to one shoulder. There was also a blue Andalite with them, but he wasn't in costume. He just figured he'd fit in best as himself.

Four-year-old Henry Robinson had insisted on being the green one—it was one of his favorite colors, and furthermore, he was a Pern dragon. He even had a little cloth doll for his rider.

The white dragon was Ian Thomas Horowitz, a pale-haired, pale-eyed boy a little older than Henry whom Agent Ilraen had rescued during one of his missions. Ian hadn't been formally adopted by anyone yet, but Ilraen took it upon himself to check in on the boy whenever he came to visit Henry, so he became part of the group.

Jenni Robinson, of course, was Daenerys Targaryen. Her wig itched and she was pretty sure everyone was looking at the Sue-tracking anklet the DIA had slapped on her after her recent unauthorized trans-continuum jaunt had come to light, but she smiled anyway. The kids were just too cute, and heck, this was going to be fun. Almost time now.

(( Sorry I took so long to post this. I had a serious attack of writer's block. >.< ))

The door is decorated with a magical orange and black wreath flashing lights and a small scorpion knocker. When the kids knock on the door Marco (Agent West) will open the door and Halloween music will be playing (Standard halloween fare "Ghostbusters" "Don't fear the Reaper" etc.) He is wearing black and orange hogwarts robes and gloves with the American flag on the right and jack-o-lantern on the left. A Night-Guant mini (fatu'gun) then flies up and deposits a bag of candy containing some Muggle candy and Chocolate Frogs and some every flavor jelly beans into each trick or treaters bag. Agent Jameson (The Marshal) gives a half hearted wave and goes back to working on a new D&D adventure and will state so if asked what he is doing.

Please post any OOC questions, comments, or discussions about the RP as a reply to this post. Thanks!

~Neshomeh