Spooky Scary Skeletons Send Shivers Up Your Spine...

[lonelysmiles]

Halloween. A fun night of spooks and candy up on Earth. Parties that sometimes get a bit too wild. Often times kids and adults alike waking up with regrets from too many treats, not always of the candy variety.

Down in Hell, it could be quite a celebration in places if only for irony's sake. After all, ghost stories were all the funnier told between those who were already dead.

Happy Halloween, Hellaverse!

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Alastor | Hazbin Hotel

[lonelysmiles]

Special Halloween Broadcast

"...and it seems our dear Alucard has finally decided that he's finished serenading us with his screams," Alastor cooed, wiping his claws with a towel. "He'll make an excellent meatloaf, I think! Perhaps I'll share the recipe for another night!

"But now that we're all warmed up for a proper Halloween, I'll be reading many of the wonderful ghost and horror stories that you all were so kind to send in on such short notice! Truly, I'm humbled by the enthusiastic responses, dear listeners, given I advertised this special broadcast at more or less the last moment!"

The shadows took away the corpse to be stored in the icebox while Alastor sat down behind his desk with a stack of papers.

"Imagine my surprise when I saw just how many of my listeners seem to be Hellborn based on the legends said to originate from the other Rings! I'm looking forward to hearing how well I presented your tales to my fellow loathsome sinners! Which I'm sure I'll hear plenty of critiques of when the phone lines open for musical requests to give my voice a break!"

Alastor picked up the first story. He'd chosen only the shorter ones to get through as many as possible tonight. Hopefully, it would be a long night.

Aftershow

Alastor put the last page down on top of the stack. The time read just after eleven-thirty.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems we've come to the end once more. As always, remember to keep smiling! After all, you're never fully dressed without one! Abyssinia!"

He ended the broadcast and sighed, propping up his head in his hand. His smile almost, almost fell but he caught it. Even if there was no one to see.

His shadow eyed him.

Alastor ignored it, snapping the fingers of his free hand to summon himself a triple of bourbon. He took a long slow sip before walking out of the booth with his glass.

Not bad for a last Halloween broadcast, he supposed. Though now he had nothing to do for the rest of the evening.

His feet took him into the workroom he'd turned into a planning room for his original plans, everything still precisely as he'd left it. He snapped his fingers again, destroying everything, before downing the rest of the glass and heading downstairs.

Nothing like a few bottles drinks of bourbon in front of the fire, right? Nice and quiet and cozy. Nobody around for at least a mile.

He emptied another glass before pouring a third and slumping back on the couch. How...delightful.

Aftershow

[grointothebust]

One could debate how considerate the timing for Ozzie's visit was. On one hand, he waited for Al to be finished with his task, unlike last time. On the other, Al's ready to retire after a marvelous performance. This time around, he brought a little something for the host! Carried in a cute little basket with a red cloth draped over it.

Yes, Ozzie's wearing the red cloak to go with it.

"Oh, Alastor~" Asmodeus sung, knocking on the sinner's door. "Trick or treat~"

[lonelysmiles]

Alastor blearily looked at his front door, wondering who would be so stupid as to knock on his door. There was a reason there was at least a mile of unoccupied space surrounding every radio tower in the Pride Ring.

He got to his feet and took a deep breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. He brightened his smile, straightened his posture, and prayed to the Creator above that the scent of booze on his breath wasn't too bad. He had an image to maintain...even if it was an image he really could've lived without.

He opened the door to be met with the lower half of a very tall, very familiar demon indeed. He mentally groaned as he tilted his head up to look at Asmodeus.

"Happy Halloween, Your Highness. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

There was more of a drawl in his Transatlantic accent than usual, the threat of his Southern accent trying to escape thanks to the liquor. Hopefully, Asmodeus would assume it was just tiredness after a performance. The rooster was involved with Fizzarolli, after all. He likely knew the post-performance crash after the performance high all too well.

[grointothebust]

That he did. With Fizz, sometimes a few drinks and some cuddling would do it. Talking about weird stuff, watching shows together, getting intimate...pretty sure most of that wouldn't work with Alastor. Instead...

"Happy Halloween. Loved the show. I'm guessing you're tired, so I won't take much of your time." He shares with a smile on his face, adjusting his red cloak. "I wanna thank you for being a good friend for Bee. You're someone she trusts, to the point that you're helping her with her food babies. She tells me about the girls nights you two have and Al, the way her eyes light up..."

Ozzie folds his hands and dreamily looks up. "It warms me up, seeing her so happy..."

[lonelysmiles]

Honestly? Even Alastor wasn't sure if it would work or not. Typically he went through the post-performance crash by himself.

Alastor paused for a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When it didn't, he shuffled uncertainly. "Well, it was just fortunate that I've had to help other women with such a thing. Really, she's the one who's been such an excellent hostess and was kind enough to invite me to these little private parties."

[grointothebust]

"The way she tells it, you help make them parties. Helps make her nights, so I thought maybe these will help make yours."

Ozzie offered him the basket. Nestled inside are bottles of wine older than Alastor himself, paired with a few cheeses to complement them.

Descend! Shark Dracula! ...Sharkula? Dracushark?

[hadal_predator]

How does a small venue like the Little Red Box get asses in seats? Plenty of advertising.

But commercials were expensive, and flyers used a lot of paper, only to have dicks drawn on it or something far, far worse. As Nephew puts it, 'Why don't I take a stroll and put business cards in pockets?'

When Auntie Fire Ruby quirked a brow, asked '...You just wanna play around like a fool in costume, don't you?' He couldn't deny it. But she was grinning too. She bid the boy have a little fun.

The minute he exited the manor, he smoothed down his cravat, took a breath. Under the glow of Pride's red moon, he let his mind shift. He needed to hunt. Would he bite? Wouldn't he bite? That all depended upon his mood.

Two arms swept back the trail of his cloak and he headed along, letting it flow. Perhaps it wouldn't all be advertising... he could sneak in a little fun, a treat or two, and enjoy a little mischief along the way, couldn't he?

All work and no play made BLAH blahblahblah- He missed this costume.

A literal 90's kid enjoys his #SlutEra

[mansbestend]

Look, there's crushing shadow monsters and being a hero, but then there's Helloween. How many opportunities for free candy was he gonna pass up? NOT A FUCKIN' ONE.

He tied his rollerblades on tight, and was happy to know he still had the skill down. He was able to glide down the sidewalks and across streets with easy, even make a game out of it. With his bright cut-off jean shorts, bare midriff and sleeveless shirt with an extremely kitschy logo of palm trees on the chest, earbuds in and a ton of snap bracelets on his wrists, he was the spitting image of a California Gurl someone who looked like the late eighties or early nineties spit him out straight from the american west coast.

With ear buds in, he could enter a groove. Clutched in one hand was a pillow case only partially full of candies to sort later.

Tonight, shit was gonna be cash. Cough up the candy! ...And ask to pet the tummy.

The I.M.P. Office

[ohcrumbs]

Staying open for Helloween was a business decision....... sure, Blitzø might have a little more financial flexibility with his finally functional relationship, but he has employees that still need his business to be a success to get by!

No one seems to mind, though, if the racket coming from their office is any indication. There is loudly blasting 80s rock coming from the speakers, and inside, one will find all four members. Loona may be in the corner at the front desk with massive headphones to try and combat the noise, but the boys?

Moxxie is dressed up in a lab coat and a fake beard, and Blitzø is dressed in a punk-ish leather jacket, a long scarf around his neck and a chunky pair of sunglasses. Both of them are banging their heads to the music, Moxxie air-guitaring and Blitzø air-drumming as they took turns singing for the different parts of the song.

🎶"Well, a friend once told me men, they would follow any man who would turn the wheels.
Now the wheels are spinning out of control,
What would they do if we held them still?
If you destroy the working parts, what you'll get is a broken machine:
A beacon of light from a burning screen!"🎶

Neither of them have voices that match the intended characters, but they're both having an absolute hoot singing at the top of their lungs. Blitzø especially jumps onto the desk, bellowing his next lines with all his fucking heart,

🎶"Light it up!! Light up the night!
There is a city that this darkness can't hide!
There are the embers of a fire that's gone out,
But I can still feel the heat on my skin!
And this mess we're in, well you and I,
Maybe you and I--
We can light up the niiiiiiight!"🎶

I CHOOSE BOTH

[ninefunerals]

These were her boys, okay? With a slow day in the office, she was sharpening her knives, looking them over, but ultimately bopping to the beat.

She paused to take a drink of a minty tea before she went back to her task, but would join in the choral 'Oooo ooooooohs whenever some extra punch was needed. Sorry, Loona.

In a black dress and shawl, a wide-brimmed hat, it seemed that Lydia Deetz was busy at work for some sort of 'extreme photography'.

Besides, it was getting her mind off of her stomach doing flip flops. If she could just get through this shift, that's another day won. But as the weeks went by, it was getting tougher and tougher. She just needed to survive another... what, 2-3 weeks? That's all.

But oooh was her body fighting tonight.

...Shit, where was that ginger candy she had stashed? She didn't run out, did she...?

[helluvaboss]

God, Millie was so fucking cute and hot dressed as Lydia. Once the song switched over, Blitzø took a break and laid on the desk in front of her, tilting up his sunglasses with his pinkie.

"Whatcha lookin' for, Millie-Billie?"

[ninefunerals]

Well, Lydia was strange and unusual. Millie, too, was strange and unusual~

But uh oh- She hadn't found the stuff fast enough. Fortunately, she'd be a chump if she didn't know how to talk to the boss babe.

"My little snack stash! I figure tonight's a perfect night to say 'fuck it' and go ham, but I, uh... guess I went through it a little faster than I thought! Damn."

[helluvaboss]

"Oh yeah? I think it's time to make a little trip through the portal to restock, then! It's halloween, who'll even notice!"

Sliding off of the table, Blitzø strolled to retrieve the book. "Let's go shoplift, that'll be fun!"

[ninefunerals]

Talk of portals had her momentarily shocked, but she had to remember that the Void was a whole other beast. Portals... portals should be fine this early, but she still needed to speak with Stolas about things.

"You know what? Sure! I could use the human-sized sodas and stuff, too." If no candy would work, sour candies and ginger ale would be perfect.

"Hey, you know what always bugged me? How come they call it a five-finger discount...?" Shrugged. With her distinctly four-fingered hands.

The Inkwell's Private Collection

[inkwell_books]

Closing time at the Inkwell was always a bit of a rush. Not because people were dying for a particular book, of course, but because those in the know knew that once the bookstore closed, no one else would be allowed into the Private Collection. And tonight was Halloween Night, the perfect night to tip a few back while listening to good jazz and potentially a good book.

Ethan wagged his tail as he went over the last of the sales for the day. True, the real draw was the Private Collection but the Inkwell itself was starting to take off as a bookseller. Most people hadn't figured out the secret code yet but the Inkwell was still able to make enough from book sales to stay in the black without it being obvious that there was a side hustle going on. The fact that Ruth had come up with a way to satisfy both of their dreams -- his of running a bookstore and hers of running a speakeasy -- had him shaking his head every time he went to flip the sign to CLOSED.

Tonight was no different even if he was wearing a costume more in line with 1922's Nosferatu than most media's depiction of Dracula. Well, the clothing at least. He hummed to himself as he walked to the door and locked it. Then he reached up to grab the sign, intending to turn it.

Last call...!

[hadal_predator]

He checked his phone. Ah... just about that time. He needed a break, and he knew precisely where.

Some days you just want to embrace your inner victorian gothic. He, too, was dressed for his own role, and hoped that this would pass for the dress code politely enforced for the Private Collection.

So it was that he would darken the door, his collar drawn high and his eyes aglow. Time to be full vampire...

...For he came on behalf of Carmilla, from far, far away in The Castle of Otranto.

[inkwell_books]

Ethan glanced at the front door. The costume was appropriate. After all, the reference might be a bit obscure but it was from something that would have been possible to read during Prohibition.

Unfortunately, the hellhound pointed at the sign proclaiming "CLOSED".

"Sorry, sir, but we're closed for the night. Come back tomorrow."

[hadal_predator]

Denied! Oh the bitter, bitter taste of defeat. This creature drew in sweet breath and hoped that the devil before him- barring his destination in so much glass and steel- would understand.

"...Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown horror as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams."

[inkwell_books]

Ethan rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. "Hey, Ruth. Got a late customer. Yeah, he's got the right dress code. Quoted Bram Stoker at me." He paused. "Got it. See you in five."

He unlocked the door and held it open.

"You are so lucky. I just got finished locking up."

[hadal_predator]

"Busy night! Do forgive me. Love the outfit!"

He walked past and offered Ethan a hearty pat. After a good night on stage, he needed to unwind. ...And pay more attention to the time in the future. But that was a problem for another day, and he wished to see his absolute favorite lady.

[butterflyaffect]

It really was time, unfortunately. She'd come with an armload of books previously purchased, only to find that Ethan was already closing up shop. Well, that was disappointing.

She frowned at the sign through the window, even as his hand left it, and sighed quietly, turning to leave.

As though it would have never occurred to her to simply ask.

[inkwell_books]

Ethan recognized the oddly-covered imp. (Maybe one of her ancestors was from Envy.) He liked her -- she was always interested in book recommendations -- and immediately unlocked the door to call out to her.

"Renѐe! Come on in!"

He held open the door for her, motioning her inside.

"I think Ruth won't mind if I bend the rules a little for a regular."

[butterflyaffect]

The calling-out, the invitation- she found herself shocked, but smiled, faintly, pleased anyway. She stepped inside.

"I am sorry. I wasn't thinking of the time. I... wished to return these to your custody."

[inkwell_books]

"It's all right." He closed the door behind her, locking it. "If you wanna leave afterwards, I'll let you back out. Otherwise you can come on down to the Private Collection with me."

He headed over to the register, turning it back on.

"It'll take a couple of minutes to warm up. So, how'd you like them?"

[butterflyaffect]

"I enjoyed most of them. I will confess, I could not find it in myself to finish Frankenstein." She grimaced. "Which is nothing to do with the subject matter, it's just- my father's name is Igor. And I am beginning to think it's his favorite book, because many of my siblings' names come from this book."

She stared at the register, slightly uncomprehending.