Halloween Night—a night of costumes, of mischief, and of a disregard for what your true identity is. It's one of the rare few nights in Attollo where people aren't trying to kill one another (intentionally) or ruin another individual's life (intentionally...somewhat).

It's also a night that Sylvester happens to absolutely thrive in. His tongue sticks out slightly as he pulls the final thread tight on the prince costume that he adorns. When he glances in the mirror, he notes Imogen watching him with a deadpan expression, arms crossed over her chest and devil horns tilted slightly to the right.

"What?" He turns to face her, earning him a reproachful look in turn.

"You said you'd be ready an hour ago, Sylv. At this rate, the parties are all going to be over by the time that we arrive." As she says this, she tugs open her fanny pack and pulls out a lollipop. At least, it appears to be a lollypop—Sylvester's been to enough parties with Imogen to know that it isn't, though.

"Who else is going anyway? I think Voltaic mentioned having to babysit Preston again—"

"—yeah, Liv is going to her mother's or some shit." Imogen unwraps the lollipop and shoves it in her mouth, her expression instantly turning into one of relief. She rifles through the fannypack and holds one out of Sylvester to take, but he waves off the offer with a frown.

"Malachi would rather be dead than attend a party, Dreamwalker...well, you know. Desdemona has her own event, Sylvia is MIA again," He huffs and sinks down onto the bed beside Imogen. "Are any of the Crowes going?"

"Rembrandt, Ofelia, Azizi, uhhhh, Thais, I think." Imogen pauses and then snaps her fingers. "I asked Sysba if they were coming."

Sylvester jerks upright at this and sends Imogen what may be the most incredulous look to cross his face. "Fuck right off, you did not."

"Uh, fuck right off, I did to. Have you ever gone to a rave with an eldritch? If you haven't, you can call yourself an Attolloan." Imogen clicks her tongue before pushing herself off of her bed and adjusting her shorts. "Anyway, c'mon perfume boy. There are shots calling my name and I won't be finding them in your store."

At her insistence, Sylvester reluctantly rises from the bed with a low groan.

Just peachy.

----

It takes less than twenty minutes for the two of them to locate the area where the party was being held. The deafening thumping of an over-amped bass accompanied by strobe lights cutting through the heavy smog above is telling enough for everyone present. The flurry of people in costumes—well, mostly in costumes—also indicates to everyone that this is the Halloween Rave of Attollo.

Imogen quickly grasps Sylvester's hand and yanks him into the crowd, a delighted smile on her face. She's holding her phone in her free hand and scrolling through various messages—Sylvester spots Sysba's emoticon and quickly realizes that she's trying to figure out where the elusive eldritch is posted.

"Imogen, I really don't want to deal with them tonight." Sylvester's forced to yell in her ear in order to ensure that she can hear him over the heavy remix of some obscure horror movies theme song. Imogen glances back with a furrowed brow before yanking Sylvester closer.

"I made sure that they'll behave tonight, Sylv. Besides, this is literally the only night we can all hang out in public like this—try not to stress too much about it!" She pulls away with a wink. "I'll watch over you! And I'm also grabbing you a drink to help you relax."

Before he can protest, she resumes pulling him into the crowd. They pass a group of what appear to be zombies huddled over a blue bottle, a few ghosts who look absolutely lost in their own worlds, and a devil who's angrily talking into a phone. Sylvester thinks he spots one of the aforementioned Court Generals—Rembrandt?—speaking with someone, but Imogen pulls him along before he can get a good look.

Then, he feels someone wrap their arms around his waist.

He jerks Imogen's hand back in a panic, causing his friend to stumble in her steps and shoot him a confused look, which quickly morphs into one of delight when she realizes what's going on.

"My my, it seems like my little prince has found his dragon." A familiar voice comes as a purr in his ear, causing a shiver to race up his spine. The strong smell of copper floods his senses and he doesn't have to look at the figure whose chin is propped on his shoulder to know who it is.

"Bro, please tell me that's fake blood." Imogen's nose wrinkles in disgust as she jabs her finger against Sysba's forehead, causing him to jerk Sylvester back and closer towards them. When Sylvester finally does look at Sysba, he realizes the god wasn't exaggerating.

Sysba wears a set of real horns on their head—fucking shapeshifters—and their eyes glow a brilliant gold with the pupils set as mere slits. Their tongue flicks out to trace along their lower lip—lapping up some of the scarlet spatter on their face while they're at it. Then, they laugh, leaning forward to rest their chin on Sylvester's shoulder again.

"Of course it is, Momo! It's just pigs blood. You think I'd risk fucking up tonight by having a meal? I ate two nights ago just to be sure. It would be in poor taste if I got testy and ended up gobbling a ghoul, or chewing up a clown. Snacking on Satan, if one might." They nuzzle their cheek against Sylvester's affectionately and he resists the urge to vomit right here and now. "Besides, I think Markos is lurking around. Would rather not be forced to have chats with him on why he's getting reports of bodies in the dumpsters again."

Again? Sylvester grimaces at the thought. Sysba isn't the cleanest of carnivours out there.

"Why the fuck is he out here? Parties aren't his thing in the first place." Imogen shakes her head and steps closer, prying Sysba's grip off of Sylvester and finally freeing him from his atrocious confines. "Whatever. We can just avoid him. But first—are we just going to stand here, or are you going to go boot that DJ out so we can have an actual Halloween party?"

Sysba eyes the two of them up with a glimmer of delight in their eye, which is then emphasized with a wink.