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There were two common ways to react to the existence of the Soft Topic storefront, with all its glittery rainbows and darting unicorns (devoid of any blood-dripped horns) and gentle pastel kittens (no third eyes; no bared teeth; no arched backs).

The first--and rather the more common, especially among older Halloween residents--was to walk a little faster past the garish facade, stuck like a sore thumb and tinkling calliope music between the rows of cobweb-draped, fashionably black and gothic window displays to either side. Just avert your eyes, was the apparent philosophy, and whatever horrid beasts are shopping in there--kids these days!--can't do you any harm.

The other was a little more perceptible among young, edgy, rebellious creeple, who might pause to gaze longingly up at the Soft Topic logo in all its bubbly bow-bedecked glory, their claws clasped behind their backs as they gravely and a little wistfully surveyed the pink lace in the windows.

But there was, of course, a third: the ones who marched boldly in as if they were going home rather than off to spend hard-earned money. The ghoul exiting the cheesy photography shop across the way was clearly of this disposition, and clearly also of the money-spending one--she was tucking cash in a pay envelope into a little glittery handbag slung around one shoulder, out of which peeped a shiny red balloon dog that was making menacing growling and latex-squeaking sounds at any mall-walker who dared strayed within the ghoul's considerable personal bubble.

She was certainly dressed the part: all white and floaty frills, a rainbow pom-pom fringe on her tulle-fluffed skirt, a pair of lavender bows secured to her very short-cropped hair. The effect was helped by eyebrows sculpted into tiny hearts, and by painted on red lips similarly-shaped; there were pink hearts glued into her long dark lashes and marching up the sides of her tights.

She was making a beeline for Soft Topic, of course, but it didn't stop her from pausing consideringly near a mall customer, giving her a once-over with a critical eye and an upturned nose, the aloofness helped along by the fact that she was floating some inches off the ground as she did so. She made no effort to hide the sense that she was appraising the young reaper's get-up quite in passing, as if pausing to assess the sartorial qualifications of everyone her balloon dog bothered to growl at was a natural matter of course.

"I like," she pronounced, "your hat."

Misinterpreting the apparent surprise resulted in a tight little smile that, had Alice known her better, might have suggested she'd said something faintly offensive. Instead it was mostly masked by the makeup anyway, and too short-lived for much in the way of analysis.

Two could, however, play at that game. Nona hazarded a guess, that would either pay off in indignation or in giving her another route to follow. The gift from my family comment was filed away for latter, as with a second quick glance she assessed the hat and how much it might have cost.

"What a lovely minipet you have," she enthused, patting the balloon dog's head as she gazed admiringly at Klaus. "Such an interesting accessorization to your outfit."

A beat of hesitation followed while Nona considered her options.

The ghouls (and boil) at the Soft Topic counter had the aloofness one expected of any highly-specialized fashion boutique, but Nona had often felt their nose-lifted stares more acutely for the fact that she was inevitably alone. And, sure, it's possible to broadcast a general desire for solitude--that has its own kind of cachet--but it's quite another to broadcast such a thing when the absolute truth is that you do not yet have friends.

She gave Alice another quick assessment. Not quite Soft Topic material--not quite--but stylish in her own definite way, and Cool was Cool no matter what genre it landed you in. She would Do, Nona thought, with the capital letter inclusive, and so she allowed herself a broad and welcoming smile.

"Oh, sweetheart," she said."Haven't you ever been to Soft Topic? I was just on my way there."

Nona allowed exactly enough of a measured pause for the pause to be obvious, and then beamed, offering the ghoul her free elbow as if they were very old friends. Taken or refused, she'd immediately start drifting--literally--in the direction of Soft Topic.

"That would be amazing," she enthused. "I'm Nona. What did you say your name was?"