"Samhain has become something else, and even shallowly fanciful in these times of obscene wealth and access. What are these?"
He spat it as he gestured hither and to, a spectral, skeletal hand plucking up strings of obnoxious lights and garlands while spiders under his suggestion were running decorations into all sorts of places. The rail thin suggestion of a man had pinned his hair back with a wooden clip. He'd changed his clothing out for more fitting fair, a long sleeved black jacket and thin black shirt and pants. He'd switched his vestment adornments for a hanging leather braid over his shoulders, most of his reagents for simple spells tied into it.
"Well, perhaps it would be a perfect time for a ritual if the general insanity of the space is claiming the spectral and the material be thinned enough to allow demons to cross between spaces so easily. Feh."
Enki gestured with his remaining hand at the empty-but-for them first floor.
"Marks to Sylvian in this place indeed capture enough power to do that."
