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The zombghoul was feeling rather nervous as she added the last finishing touches on her booth, eyes darting towards the procession of suited up and very professional looking citizens of Halloween as they made their way on the scene. She had put off coming to work on her booth until the last minute, not really having much of an idea of how to showcase her talents, and now she was feeling the pressure (though maybe that was just another oncoming coughing fit).

She really felt that she probably hadn't done nearly enough to make herself stand out, and her eyes swept over the few things she had set up. Still, it was difficult to advertise oneself out, when one didn't even quite know what they wanted to do with themselves after graduating, anyways.

Somehow she had gotten a hold of a small, portable, fog making machine, which she shoved under her booth and turned on. Wisps of fog, meant to look like smoke, curled out from under the black table cloth that was draped over the booth and trailed down to the floor. The booth itself, decoration wise, was fairly plain, save for the vibrant red of the defenders badge placed front and center. To each side of that were a few pictures, action shots of her prehensile tongue in action, showing off it's full length and it's usage in several dramatic and dynamic poses.

Really, that's all she felt like she had going for her.

So, all in all, not a terrible booth, but not one that exactly stood out either. And in the meantime, she continued to struggle not to cough up an undead lung. Wearing a jack-o-lantern mask that practically encompassed your entire head and coughing just did not mix.

Booth Tally: 4

Vivi's bangles jingled cheerfully as she chatted up passing people animatedly. She flicked her hair at the right time, modeled her dress with a flair, and gave bright, charming smiles. Unfortunately, there were probably a handful of people that saw her as fake and forcing the charm, but most seemed positively charmed and she ate up their attention. Aw yeah, give the pretty lady all your attention.

She didn't know why they cared so much about her work and not about her amazing outfit. Seriously. She flipped through her sketchbooks for them for a bit and kept trying to turn the conversation to something more interesting, but no one seemed as interested after a while and they walked off. She pouted and tucked the cards she received in her bra. At least she'd gotten a few people interested in her. Maybe one of them would prove to be a good starting point.

Total 11

At least Ashly had made an effort today to not look like a total hobo off of the street. She had put on mostly clean clothes, actually opting to wear a faded blue jean skirt with black and dark green striped stockings, and a plain white blouse. She would not, however, go anywhere without wearing her incredibly tattered and ratty looking green button up jacket, though she had at least tried to scrub out most of the stains the night before. Oh, and then their was her hair, which was a veritable tangled mess. Would it have really killed her to take a brush through it? She probably should have, or maybe even gotten it cut. She would have looked much more professional if she had gotten it cut, she decided.

Oh well, it was just a little bit too late for that, now.

There were at least a few people wandering towards her booth, and she struggled to stand up straight and not slouch, clasping her hands in front of her and waiting for the right moment to strike up some conversation...though she was almost positive that was probably going to end in disaster, and she was considering at this moment not even speaking at all...

Booth tally: 8

Now that all that business was over, Vivi sashayed out from behind her booth and wandered over to the absolute train wreck that was Tica's booth. Wood splinters littered the area and everything look broken and just... sad. She put a perfectly manicured finger to her lips and frowned at the mess disapprovingly. "Seriously, Tica. What were you even thinking?" However, it was quite pleasing to know that she had obviously done better than the other ghoul. No doubt she'd gotten more cards and offers that she had too. Score.

It was just as she feared. Many prestigious or professional looking Halloween denizens were approaching her booth, looking at her pictures and asking her questions. If it was possible for her hands to be any more clammy then they naturally were, they would be now. She knew if she started to talk, she would go into a coughing fit that would likely just make things so much worse, so she kept her mouth firmly shut and nodded or shook her head whenever necessary.

Once in a while she was forced to speak, but she kept her answers as short as possible, which probably either made her look rude, or like a complete simpleton. To make matters worse, she was struggling more and more not to start hacking, as her chest became constricted and her body started to tremble with the effort. At this point, they probably all thought that she was having some kind of seizure, and many of them began to wander away.

When it was all said and done, there were only maybe 3 cards on the desk, and none of them were from boogeymen. But that was fine, she hadn't really wanted to be one of them anyway.....

sigh.

Booth total: 10

She couldn't help but half-stare as Manny wished her luck and then scuttled away, waving at his retreating form. "Uhhh.. Thanks! You too!" she managed, but he was probably out of earshot at that point in time. Instead, Cricket took a moment to turn her attention to one of the individuals asking about the natures of the burns on one of the pictures of Red, as well as the note about counteracting a spreading poison burn like that.

Oh, that question was right up her alley to answer!

"... or partners," Victory clarified, with a wink at those around the booth. Turn on that demon charm, Victory. He was not one of the "fair folk" for nothing, after all. Too bad he'd probably just as soon take off suddenly in the middle of it all. Stay focused, Victory, he had to whisper to himself silently.

He clapped his hands together, his wrist-bangles chiming as they collided, his long earrings dangling against his neck. He was wearing more jewelry than even his booth's surface was. Oh, the times he'd gotten his jewelry caught in surfaces, minipets, other students and had to QQ about it. His pain threshold was not entirely amazing, and even if it didn't hurt that much, Victory would still whine about it like it was the end of his life.

He busied himself charming, wooing and attracting as many individuals as possible until he finally decided that he needed something to drink, some rest, and... friends! Without further ado, Victory excused himself to some complaints before the next wave, and set up a "learn it yourself" chart of a couple dances, encouraging anyone still interested to try to pick it up, and he would dance with them the second he returned. "If someone impressed me, maybe they'll get something nice...!" Victory suggested, with a wink, excusing himself.