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Rhona Lee -- Dressed as Winnie Sanderson
Rhona loved parties. There was life, laughter, joy and love. There was dancing and chatter and beauty anywhere the eye landed. But most importantly, there was food. Tons and tons of free food. Some people were wallflowers. Some people were social butterflies. Rhona was a snack table goblin. Perhaps this analogy was made even more comical by her costume, but she also didn't really care a whole lot. She no longer needed to walk with a cane, she had been given the go a head by her doctor to start renovation on the church that she bought, and her physical therapist had given her the same all clear. She'd be damned if she wasn't going to celebrate by eating everything in sight. And she did. It looked a little comical, with her fake buck teeth glued in as she tried to navigate the food around them. She never could get the hang of how far down they came in her mouth...

Rhona came up for air after a long moment, mouth full of punpkin spices whatever was in front of her and thought maybe now would be a good time to look for someone that she knew. When she saw the young man in the carebears outfit, she didn't need to see his face to know who it was. As she made her way over to him, Rhona continued to load up her plate, grabbing some things for Xi-Wang as well.

"You look adorable, as usual," she chirped, sliding up alongside him.



Gisela Louise -- Old, loose-fitting and ripped clothing to be a lazy zombie
Having successfully skulked away from her parents, Gisela lurked in the shadows underneath a particularly shady tree, watching the goings-on. Since she had found out who she was -- who she truly was -- the day to day activities seemed... so trivial. Going to this party with her parents was such an inconvenience that she had actually pitched a very rare fit over it. She hadn't wanted to come, citing that she needed time to rest after a long bout of sleep paralysis stole her rest for several days in a row. They weren't hearing it. Evidently, socializing their little princess was more important than her sleep... so she crept away from them the first chance that she got and hid in some dark corner. They were still within her sight, matching zombie costumes and all. She could even still hear the raucous sound of her father's laughter. But they either had not noticed that she had gone missing or figured that she went for food. Either way, it was fine with her.

Mahogany Shapour -- Phantom of the Opera
Mahogany swept onto the scene with his parents and sister, the eldest of the family dressed as Carlotta and Piangi, and Mahogany and his sister dressed as Christine and Erik. It was one of the few times he and Esta worked together, the older of the two relenting to do a certain number of chores if Mahongay would do her makeup for the party. A week of not doing dishes or scrubbing the bathroom floors? Mahogany was down for that. Besides, to make the fact that he had so little of his own face to work with a little easier. So without the chaos of a pre-arrival spat, the siblings were getting along fairly well. They stayed by their parents' side, sung one another praises and gracefully accepted their own, and even managed a genuine compliment. Because of this, they were set loose early, their parents regarding good behavior. Esta raced off to be with some of her friends from school while Mags opted to wander over to the nearest group to show himself off.

Elex Yorke (going as generalized undead)

'You're not made of sugar; you're not going to melt.'

And who is that? His gaze trailed from Rowan's identifiable hair to the man standing in his company — notably older, his hair an ombre cascade. The stake in hand told the story of their coordinated costumes. Their faces told a further story — each gifted with strong jawlines, a sunkissed skin tone, and similar noses. They lacked a shared eye or hair color, but evidence of a deep-set relationship remained. Friends, perhaps? Brother? Elex never met the older Cameron boy, by his recollection; must of his earlier years were better spent staring at the ground.

That would make him Trey. Elex sipped the carbonated melon drink. Each pull smeared a little more of the vanity makeup onto the lip. He's the voice of reason to Rowan's complaining. Interesting.

Elex dropped the cup into the wastebin and seized a second drink. This time, he would refrain from bringing any beverage to Rowan's attention — especially of the pumpkin variety. He hesitated to approach just yet, instead idling with ghouls and bats and morbid baubles to glean a little more of their conversation. He could arrive at a break in the conversation, perhaps, or trail them further. Seldom had he found another who wore that particular colone; Rowan was an easy spot, as was his brother's unusual hair.

'Could you imagine these ruffles all wet and limpy?'

What a travesty that would be. Elex closed his eyes a long moment.

'If you utter one word that is related to business talk…'

So Trey and my brother would have gotten along for a time — but he isn't here to be my in. And by the sound of Rowan's complaining, he's reticent to let go of his brother as a tether.

I don't blame you, Rowan. There may be black-eyed bandits here waiting to take a part of your soul. Finally he broke away from his countertop vigil, and approached the pair of impeccably bedecked brothers. Sidestepping the burgeoning crowds led him closer to vampire and hunter. He could catch the glimmer of teeth, too longer to be contained by pouting lips. Beside him, the older of the pair swathed in genuine leathers, the scent of them conflating with Rowan's cologne. They looked the part of a designer's progeny.

Elex curbed his comments about beta carotene levels. "You look well," he called on approach. "Is this your brother?"




Isaiah Varney Zähne (going as an extremely intoxicated Felicia)

Isaiah's amble was meandering, but purposeful. Apart from his inability to walk a straight line, he searched the crowd for interesting costumes or people known. Among them, the ugliest Persian rug he'd ever seen walked straight off the floor and into the crowd. It was quite wild, really. It even grew hair and skin and eyes. It spoke to other not-rugs, one a cat and the other an unconvincing skeleton, or punk, or he might actually recognize that head of dreads but he certainly wanted a few more shots of whiskey before he tried.

He was going to lay that rug all over the floor, he decided. Meandering through the crowd took a bit of doing, and a bit more pushing as other people struggled to keep him upright and off of there costumes, but Isaiah took the help for what it was. And when he cut through enough crowd to get close to the rug, he recognized the cat looking to scratch her claws into it — Gwen.

That was a pisser.

It didn't matter, he decided. He'd ensure his drunken weekend was spent with enough alcohol drowning his brain that memory proved impossible. And if he couldn't remember her, surely she didn't exist. So he finally reached the rug in question, lighted his one and only hand on her shoulder, and managed as much of a smile as he could when his lips felt numb. "Who said you could get off the floor?"

Kaida Courcel [Dressed as 'Queen of the World' Relena Peacecraft/Darlian]

"I am not sulking!" Kaida couldn't help but semi-glare at Matt, even though he was, as usual with her moods, right. "I'm just...trying to make the rain stop. There's too many people crowded in here, and it'd be better if everyone could spread out and better enjoy all the hard work the volunteers put into this! They really outdid themselves this year!" She also hoped nothing would happen, but...well, her henshin pen was safely tucked away in the folds of her dress,
just in case. She adjusted the little sack of candy she'd attached to her sash, a bit sad she'd not gotten to give out any of the goodies just yet. She'd brought it in hopes someone would recognize Matt and hers' costumes, but alas!
No such luck was to be found yet.

Good taste in anime was so hard to find these days.

Giulia (Rapunzel)

"We had a gardener!" Giulia knew what that word meant, and she took "Farmer Nat's" hand in her own small one with a wide smile. It was probably not good to tell him that their gardener had died. That seemed to bother people, talking about dying.

But there were important questions to ask, and he said he had been here before, so clearly he was going to be the best expert. "Are there gonna be lots of fun things to see, Farmer Nat? It looks like it is gonna be kind of dark and gloomy, will we get to see all kinds of the plants?"

Oh! He had asked her a question too and she cleared her throat. "I'm Giulia, but you can call me Rapunzel if it is easier. Did you know a Rapunzel is a kind of lettuce? Tangled certainly got the fairy tale all wrong, and her name makes no sense without the lettuce!" It was tragic. Somewhere there was an uninformed kid wondering why Mother Gothel named Rapunzel after salad greens without knowing it was because her father had stolen the salad greens!

Ugh. That poor child.

“I told you, she is modest, almost to a fault.” The dreadhead waved her hand at Gwen’s response.

Yvaine’s eyes darted to the side as she felt a hand on her shoulder, her body tensing just for a moment before visibly relaxing. She was not used to be touched by strangers, but the scent on the man's breathe told her all she needed to know. She recalled Kam and his destructive habit, drunks no longer scared her - heck, she almost felt protective of them. So, she did not pull away, instead, she turned around to face him, placing a hand on his and gently attempting to guide it off her shoulder as she spoke, soft words. “Why would I be on the floor? It is horribly dirty down there, and there are wet footprints everywhere.” She raised a brow, turning her attention away from her friends for a moment.

“Are you on your own?” The brunette asked, fearing the stranger was not too safe wandering solo in this condition. She had no reservations about being a sober companion if need be, it would not be the first time she had helped someone into a taxi home. ”My name is Yvaine. I like your costume.” She added, trying to offer him stability if he needed it, he did not seem very steady on his feet.

She missed him, her troubled, colussus friend.

Christabelle Calloway (dressed as the Spanish Inquisition) [I’ll edit in journal links when I get home, I’m on mobile and posting in and of itself is SUPER HARD]

Christa was practically looming around the guests at the Botanical Garden, though it wasn’t her intention. Really, keeping the hood up on her costume kept her focused on the task at hand - surviving such a social gala. Genevieve had gently insisted that her roommate should get out and socialize. While Genevieve had the best of intentions, and Christa could easily handle smaller groups (especially while in fuku), such a glorious affair was quite intimidating. She recognized a few of the patrons - several, in fact - though her focus was keeping up with the vampire who brought her to this fancy to-do.

Weaving in and out of several groups of people dressed in their Halloween finery, Christa practically apparated behind the dainty vampire and looked a fright. Seeing Jada was a relief, though Christa was perplexed as to what her fellow was dressed as. “There are… quite a few people here…” she wheezed. Suddenly, she greatly appreciated the hood more so than before. With a nod to herself, she absently smoothed out the bright red robes she wore. She could’ve sworn she saw Chris and Paris somewhere. They’d have to catch up later - she had quite a few questions for the one she’d recently found ascended to the rank of Princess.

But enough about that. Christa didn’t carry a bible, but did have a plastic cross around her neck. “Luckily,” she explained, attempting to be humorous. “Genevieve’s vampire is of the Pagan variety. I’d hate for her to combust by accident. It would be… unexpected.”

Ba-dum tsh.

Christa looked squeamish for a moment.

Caleb Dilts

Caleb wasn’t really one to get dressed up for things. He was used to not being the fanciest one around, as evidenced by the Gala that he had gone to severely underdressed…and now here he was at a costume party...in nothing more than a tee shirt and pants. Of course, at least the tee shirt was somewhat themed, it was still just a tee shirt.

This time though, this time he was here with Xi-Wang…and perhaps that made all of the difference, feeling the other boy’s hand curled in his own…he was glad that the broken arm had healed, and glad that Xi seemed to be doing better. When the darker haired male nearly ran into some…someone dressed as…well. Who knew what, Caleb pulled him closer, placing a light kiss on his neck. “You’re okay, Xi. I’ve got you.” And when one of the fabled Sanderson sisters sidled up beside Xi and began to offer him food, acting like she knew him, Caleb’s brows furrowed and he scowled slightly.

No…this was his night to be with Xi…not anyone else. This…

No. He wasn’t going to cause another scene. “Hi. I don’t know you. Who are you?” He tried to sound polite, but he pulled his boyfriend somewhat closer, seeming rather wary.

Seth Volkov ( dressed as a demon, complete with horns and tail in a black skintight, sleeveless turtleneck shirt and black pants with black boots )


He was loyal to Ilian - well, to the general that Ilian became when they were not in public company. And as Gadolinite, he respected and listened to the advice given to him by Jet, because he knew better than to underestimate someone just because of their age. Jet hadn't become a general by sitting on his a**, after all.

The preening poppinjay known as Lovely, however...

Seth's head tilted a little to the side, dark hair falling against his shoulders as he considered the blond haired young man. He knew that type. Knew the arrogance as much as he knew his own brand of arrogance, but he couldn't have said for certain what it was about Lovely that inspired Ilian to actually marry him.

Then again, he wasn't even going to touch on the concept of marriage. Not here. Not now.

Not ever again.

"Don't vorry," said Seth airily to Ilian, though his eyes remained on Lovely. "I vasn't insulting you."

He lifted his free hand, the other still holding his glass of wine in loose, long fingers. His index finger touched under Lovely's chin, tapping against it consideringly, as though he was contemplating one of his many glasses of wine when he went to tastings.

"Only this one. But to be fair, he seems to have no issues insulting, either."