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 Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 7:11 pm
October had been a restless month. Each day, his god piped up a little bit more, roved the dark jungles of his mind with prowling feet and excited steps. It was baffling. Not even halfway through the month, and Tezcatlipoca would not shut up.
All this fuss over Halloween? he wondered, holding up a garish, inflatable pumpkin with a critical eye. Halloween had been his dad's holiday, no doubt about it. Loaded up in at least three boxes were lights and spooks and decorations galore, and at Sydni's insistence that their house look like everybody else's, he'd cracked the boxes open.
A grinning skeleton cackled in his grip, and Valeriu decided it wasn't very realistic at all. Neither was the fake, bloody hand lying limply on the stair next to him.
It's not Halloween, his god snarled, dismissively. Valeriu only paid half-attention, untangling a series of orange lights. Those thrice-damned Celts and their ridiculous holidays-
"Mmhm," he hummed as sincerely as he could, wielding the staple-gun with far more interest as he pinned up the lights.
No, the Day of the Dead. None of that sissy Christian stuff either--
It really was all the same to Valeriu. Samhain, Halloween, All Souls' Day, All Saints' Day--
It's not the same!
Of course it wasn't.
He tuned out his god at that point. The man was rambling on about originality, about a festival revolving around one particular goddess, about the wife of a God of Death he happened to know quite well.
A day where worlds are blended, a day with just a little bit more chaos. Of course Tezcatlipoca enjoyed the Day of the Dead, even if he preferred his own festival far more.
You should start preparing now, the Aztec suggested slyly. Many dead to treat on that day. You wouldn't leave your parents without food or drink, would you?
Valeriu slammed the staple-gun with an abrupt smack, last nail firmly in place. His god had been bringing that up more often than not. Gathering up the unused decorations in a bag, he trotted down the porch steps. Halloween, and decorating, was really just another excuse to clean out all the unnecessary junk in his house. There were the priceless family heirlooms and treasured objects of childhood that he had meticulously put up, and then there was the singing zombie head waiting for a new home at the local donations center.
Everywhere he passed, decorations flared in contrast to the apathetically sober homes. Either you decorated, or you didn't - and some went all out, started weeks beforehand. Jack-o-lanterns snarled and smiled at him from some of the houses, though they would have to be replaced before the holiday even commenced.
It was good to see some spirit, though. Refreshing. The world kept turning, and people treasured silly things like holidays.
Now if only he could find some way to keep Sydni from the candy come Halloween.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 8:00 pm
Writ always looked like he was ready for Halloween. It could be the poncho, or the ears, or maybe the paw-like feet he padded around in. He always attracted a few strange looks around the neighborhood. But for one month in the year, he could seem relatively normal.
Writ loved Halloween, though recently he's been more akin to giving out candy than receiving it. He was a man, a wanted man no less. Still, it wasn't going to keep him from doing his more favorite part of the Holiday... But he was going to save that for later. For now, he was just a stranger with a bowl of candy.
Unlike the Celts and the Aztecs, the Native Americans didn't have an equivalent to Halloween. There were rough equivalents among tribes and nations, but Coyote liked it anyway. Though he wished there was more "Trick" than "Treat". Kids are bribed too easily. Give them a sugarbomb or a Snickers and it's enough to keep their inner mischief at bay.
He was close by to Vale's house, with a sign that said "Free Candy" around his chest. The only thing that kept him from seeming creepy was the aura of trust he was giving off, effective enough to make even the most paranoid parent let their child take a Twix and a paper mask from the bowl.
The masks had a familiar design on them. The same kind that were found on a certain "Terrorist"
A boy ran by Vale's house with one of those masks on with a carton of eggs in his arm. He popped open the box and proceeded to do the classic egg-and-run. The boy smacked a couple of good ones on the walls and the mailbox, one even got into the severe-looking man with the pair of cat ears.
The kid ran off, and Writ came by. He was holding his bowl of candy innocently.
"I thought you lived a bit farther north. Unless 'mass decorating' is your type of mischief." Writ laughed, "Fits you."
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 8:17 pm
Smack!
His bag dropped as he yelped in startlement, and the zombie head rolled out to sing a merry little tune about brains as it jolted and danced against the pavement. He curled his lips in disgust, nose scrunching unhappily, as he fruitlessly attempted to wipe off the egg and shell splattered against his pantsleg. Goo hung from his fingers, and he shook them briskly.
"Damn little-" he growled, taking stock of the damage to his house, and eyes malevolently following the little b*****d what done it. A mask would not hide the boychild from him. There was always scent, and the next time the little mongrel showed up, Valeriu would be ready with revenge.
Speaking of mongrels--
"I," he began, slowly and pridefully turning towards the sketchy man giving candy out too far ahead of schedule, "am doing my duty as an upstanding citizen, and donating extra supplies to those who can't afford the simple joys of Hallov'een." He carefully avoided confirming where he lived; he didn't want Writ showing up at his door with explosives in hand.
His eyes dropped down to the candy that Writ held, and then back up, suspiciously.
"They are too young for drugs, you know." Because obviously, any candy that came from Writ was either laced with drugs, alcohol, or firecrackers.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 8:30 pm
Writ sniffed the air. The sulfuric scent of rotten eggs permeated his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose, but there was still a smile on his face.
"I see you've gotten a bit of holiday cheer." Writ grinned, "The old egg and run, classic." He nudged the fake zombie head with his foot, "Looks like you got a lot of work to do then, the guys down the street got those huge moving inflatable things out in their yard."
He offered Vale the bowl, "I might be a troublemaker, but I like candy as much as the next kid." Writ tore open a fun-sized candy bar with a claw and popped it in his mouth.
"You ever taste peyote raw? Tastes nasty. Salvia too." Writ said between chews, "Giving kids bad candy ain't my thing."
Innocent, innocent.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 8:39 pm
"Classic," he repeated, flatly, and flicked the last of the goo away. "Yes. I am so cheered now." His voice dipped into the recognizable drawl of his god, unamused. "The V'ilkensons?" He could catch, even from here, the steady waving of those inflatable monstrosities. He snorted. "My decorations are traditional."
As traditional as plastic got.
"None of their jack-o-lanterns are real anyv'ay," he added, disdainfully, as if that was a sin in and of itself. He immediately turned down the bowl, shuffling back a half-step and eyeing the candy warily.
Writ could have chosen a specific brand to tamper with. He would know which were bad, and which were good, and with Valeriu's luck he'd pick bad.
"Somehow, I do not believe you, candyman." He reclaimed his zombie head, bag returning to hang on his arm. "You are not planning on going trick-or-treating this year as v'ell, are you?"
Sure, technically, they were young enough to do so. But they all knew that technicalities didn't count in their case.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 8:55 pm
"Come on Vale, one little piece of candy ain't going to kill you." Writ pushed the bowl on the cat boy. Being trusted was alright, but the most fun came from the people who distrusted you. It was easier to make them squirm. He smiled. If only he did drug the candy. It'd be an entertaining prospect to watch the cat kid tripping. He should have bought a bag of catnip.
Nah, that would be too obvious.
"Free candy's nice, and I'm already in costume." Writ looked at his duds, "But I'm looking forward to the night before, if you know what I mean." He gave Vale a wink and a smile.
He kept nudging Vale with the bowl of candy.
"Come on, you know you want one."
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 9:06 pm
"I'm allergic," he lied, dismally, and pushed the bowl firmly back at Writ, ears twitching nervously at having potentially explosive chocolate within his immediate vicinity.
"Your costume isn't cool at all." He sniffed, haughtily. "V'hat are you, a hobo? So very unoriginal."
Once upon a time, Valeriu would not have known what Writ meant. The wink and the smile would've crashed and splintered against his shield of naivety, to be met with a blank look and a polite nod. Unfortunately, Valeriu knew a trickster.
"Just keep av'ay from my neighborhood," he warned, darkly, and gave Writ The Look. It said, in its entirety, that no hijinks were to be had anywhere near Valeriu's preciously sheltered street on pain of death. He paused, and added as an afterthought, "But Quinn is fair game. He deserves it." Quinn always deserved it. Always.
Not that Valeriu had any plans to indulge in pranks, of course. It would be a horrible waste of all the toilet paper he had just recently bought in bulk to teepee Quinn's house. No, no, he wouldn't do anything of the sort.
Of course not.
"No," he declared, and firmly crossed his arms against anymore candy attacks. "I most definitely do not v'ant one."
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 9:30 pm
Writ took the candy back, unwrap it, and ate another one. He shrugged, there was nothing to be afraid of. It looked like everything was alright. With an exasperated sigh he took Vale's hand, opened it, and stuck a candy in it.
"Nobody's allergic to Lifesavers." He said, "Look, If I wanted to make everyone in the neighborhood a drug addict, I would've been more subtle." You can sniff it yourself." Writ gave Vale an innocent look.
It was time for a different approach.
"Everybody likes candy, that's why Halloween's such a popular holiday. You've been working so hard for all these unfortunate people, you could use the candy break."
He wouldn't mind hitting Quinn's house, but he had bigger fish to fry, "Does it look like I know where you live? Besides, I got enough firepower to make tee peeing look amateur, it's gonna be a mischief night to remember after I'm through."
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 9:50 pm
The round little candy rested obtrusively in his palm. He frowned at Writ.
"You only say that because they all die," he rebutted, stubbornly. "They think, of course, no one is allergic to Lifesavers -- and then they eat one, and they die. It is tragic, and you are perpetuating tragedy v'ith your lies." He sniffed again; but really, he was checking the candy over.
Fruit flavor assaulted his nose, but no trace of crack-cocaine or gunpowder was to be found. Just cherry red, standing out and above its lesserly-flavored fellows.
He hesitated; and that was his downfall.
"I have been v'orking hard," he admitted. Man-eating vigilante by night, builder of homes by day. It was tough. Very tough. He deserved this, really. A reward for jobs well-done.
Cherry red met its end faster than it could blink, leaving only a crumpled plastic wrapper behind as its last will and testament.
"If you do not know v'here I live, best to avoid Middling altogether, da?" He nodded, wisely. "But Uppers is a good target."
And the home of several people he hated.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:21 pm
"They wouldn't be calling them 'Lifesavers' if they killed people. It's even got a little hole in case you start choking on them."
When Vale ate the candy, Writ knew he won. He kept his evil laughter to himself.
Writ looked around, "Middling's a nice little burg, good memories. Even if there were Blacksuits around, I'd probably kick off the festivities somewhere else." He handed Vale a paper mask, "Comes with the candy."
Writ leaned on the porch posts, "So, you wanna help me out on mischief night?" Writ smirked, "Don't think you're too busy, being too old for Halloween an' all. Unless you got some lame prank planned out already."
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:36 pm
Valeriu wasn't quite sure what logic Writ was using, but nodded in the polite way that said Writ was insane by normal standards.
"Right," he added, and enjoyed his Lifesaver. He took great care not to choke, though. No need to test Writ's bluffs.
"You lived in Middling?" He stared at the mask, frowned as if in offense, and slipped it into the bag to be dropped off at the donations center. Valeriu had a little bit more taste than that. If he were to wear a mask, it would be a Batman mask. "Thanks. I v'ill treasure it, forever," he lied, cheerily, as if he hadn't just marked it as a recyclable.
"I'm not sure I can." He tilted an ear as he thought. "Either I v'ill be taking Sydni trick-or-treating-" And of course he wouldn't dress up. Costumes were for kids. Although Sydni had helpfully suggested that he dress up as a vampire-werewolf (neither of which was as cool as Batman). "-or v'hile she is out v'ith an organized group, I v'ill be giving out candy."
He didn't much look forward to giving out candy. It was boring, and as cute as kids were, he wasn't good with large quantities of small children.
He frowned, and glared, and huffed, puffing up. "My plans are never lame!" he snapped, and crossed his arms. "My prank v'ould totally blow yours out of the v'ater, if I had one planned," he insisted. "You are lucky I do not."
"Decorating" Quinn's house wasn't a plan yet, anyway. Just an idea. An idea with toilet paper rolls at the ready.
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Posted: Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:51 pm
"Born and raised." Writ rubbed his chin, "If it weren't for all this god business, I'd probably be a pretty nice kid." No, that was a lie. At the rate he was going, he was going to grow up into what he was now. The local teenagers were beginning to color his innocent little mind with strange and wonderful ideas about the world before Coyote came about.
When Vale mentioned his Halloween plans, Writ replied,"If you're one of those houses that give out apples, I'll be sure to egg your house
personally." Writ raised a finger up in mock threat, then went on, "You know Mischief Night is the night before Halloween, right? I bet you got plenty of time when you're not guarding the cookie jar from your little sister."
From the way she gobbled that kettle corn, it looked like Halloween would be Sydni's only day of solace.
"My plans aren't lame, and you know they aren't lame." Writ was in Vale's face, with a genuinely curious expression, "What's your prank, hmm?"
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Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 12:01 pm
"Of course," he confirmed, dryly, as if there wasn't a chance in hell that Writ could've ever been a pretty nice kid. "As nice as that one kid - the one, about four years back, who took a hose to all the streets one cold v'inter morning so that they froze completely over."
He scowled, remembering that morning. A much younger Valeriu had, so happily, hopped down his steps only to slip and slide and crash the minute his foot hit pavement. Not even the sidewalks had been spared an icing. While other kids were busy skating around, he'd spent the day recuperating in his bed with scraped knees and brightly colored bandages.
"b*****d," he muttered, and shook off the memory. "I do not give out apples. It is the parents' responsibility to decide v'hich candies their children may eat, and how often." Although he might've snuck some healthier candy alternatives in the mix. Everyone loved caramelized fruits. And celery sticks.
"Mischief Night?" He frowned in puzzlement at that. "I have not heard that term." Sure, he knew that around Halloween teens went smashing pumpkins, but he never thought there was an official night for it. "Hm, I do not think I have anything planned for that night, then. And v'e do not have a cookie jar," he declared loftily. "Too much temptation for my sister. And she is sneaky. It v'ould be very difficult to ensure she v'ouldn't steal any cookies from it."
Valeriu had no illusions about who the more cunning of the two siblings was. Sydni had, repeatedly, outsmarted him. In a battle for the cookie jar, he would lose, and lose badly.
His back straightened pridefully at Writ's invasion of his bubble, ears flattening. "My prank is v'ay better than yours. That is all you need to know. You v'ill see, and be dismayed, and fall sobbing in ruin at how awesome my prank v'ill be. I v'ill forever be your better."
Even as he boasted, Valeriu knew, now, that harassing Quinn would not be good enough. No - this Halloween, he would have to beat Writ. It had become an imperative. He had to fulfill his claims. And though Valeriu wasn't a very good prankster, he did have tricks up his sleeve. A special trick. He just had to figure out how to use it right.
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Posted: Wed Oct 14, 2009 5:10 pm
That may or may not have been Writ and his friends. He didn't remember. Probably best he didn't. Whoever that kid was could take all the credit they wanted, it'd be their blood on the sidewalk if they ever came around. Writ dismissed the thought.
"If you ask me" Writ hefted the candy bowl under his arm,"It's the kid's responsibility to hide the best sweets from said parental figures." What was a parent's business telling their kids what to eat on Halloween? Vale was strict. He figured he could make a better parent, at least, a more fun parent anyway. Though he didn't say that to Vale, for fear that kitty and his competitive spirit would force Writ into a parenting competition.
It seemed amusing, but that sort of game would take way too long. There was that whole business of acquiring a child.
"That's great, what is it?" Writ was curious now, "My prank's going to start at Middling and go to Uppers." He emphasized the word "Uppers"
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 1:30 am
He grunted at that. Heaven knew Sydni was already preparing protected spots for her future secret stash of candy; if he didn't act quickly enough Halloween Night, he'd be taking her into the dentist only a few weeks later.
"I pity your parents," he said, at last, shaking his head somberly. "They probably have gray hair already. But it is not their fault. You v'ere just a bad seed." Really, they couldn't be blamed. Every once in a while, the Anti-Christ pops up in a wholesome, honest family.
Will of the gods, he supposed.
"You v'ill not know until you see it," he said, delicately, brushing back the question confidently. "I have told you this. It v'ill not change."
In that moment, a streak of inspiration hit him. He knew - he knew exactly what he could do.
It just meant recruiting a particular pair of hell-raising construction workers, who doubled as electricians and tripled as pyrotechnics and quadrupled as safe-crackers... The list went on. But Valeriu only had a few of those jobs in mind.
"You v'ill see," he repeated, smugly. "No matter v'here you are, you v'ill see."
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