One Jacked Up Party [INVITE ONLY]

Jack walked through the streets of London's slums, he passed by several homeless that nobody would've noticed going missing. He didn't even try to scare them. Something was clearly off about him. Ever since he had been shown up so badly by Pinnacle, he had felt like shit. And whats worse, the dreamscape wouldn't show him Pinnacle! He kicked over a trash can in frustration.

Jack had been in uh... "Incognito". A long black leather duster covered his body, while a... really large fedora kept his pumpkin face "hidden". The rest of his outfit was similarly meant to give off the impression of being a normal guy. A t-shirt with the words "Freak" ironed on, the words looking like blood and some simple dark wash jeans. It was pretty clear though from the looks that he got that people immediately called the cops like they were ordered by the television to do.

Let them call. Jack needed to let out his frustrations on something! And that's when he noticed something. A bar. Normally Jack wouldn't be interested, but... it appealed to him. "Well, I suppose a pint wouldn't hurt too bad..." Jack said, and opened the door.

The moment Jack opened the door, nausea washed over him. He vomited, unceremoniously all over the floor. "You're gonna clean that up, Jack." Said the bar keep, an older bald black man stated as he cleaned a pint glass. "Eh, bite me. I'm not in the mood whoever you are." Jack said as he hung up his coat and hat on the designated hat rack. Jack looked out the windows and saw an island paradise. Weird. He could've sworn he was in London moments ago. Whatever.

"I want a pint, whatever your name is." Jack slammed a fist on the table. The bartender grimaced, but pulled the tap. Jack leaned back on his seat, and the bartender glared at him.


"And I'm tellin' you, Mac! If erybody just stoppedwearing blue hoodies, I'd be a better person!" Jack slurred drunkenly. Mac grunted in response. "You know what yer problem is? Yer a coward...and I love you for that!" Jack grinned.

Hecate's gleaming red eyes opened amid the shadows of the alley wherein Jack strolled, and an ethereal darkness took the somewhat vague shape of a woman shortly thereafter. The alley grew darker with her mere presence, and the pumpkin-headed force of chaos didn't seem to notice her.

That said, she was more interested in the bar that had appeared before him out of nowhere. It was a beacon to her metaphysical sight, and she was more than a little curious as it sent out ripples in the æther which pulled at the man's black soul, targeting him.

It was alive... And it was ancient... Like her...

She slunk into Jack's shadow as he strolled into the bar, and once inside, diffused her form back out from the shadow, quiet as black mist, for that is what she was, more or less.

She glanced around the place, taking in its look. She noticed that the barkeeper had glanced over and seen her, but didn't really worry about it for the time being... Content to float silently in the background as the man drowned his sorrows...

"I fucking told you we weren't going the right way.." and irritated young woman spat at the clearly frazzled young man she was with. "Can you get off of my dick about it? I'm sorry I wanted to do something nice for you." he said sarcastically.  The path they were moving down was becoming less and less inviting, and the lights and sounds of civilization were replaced by the clicks, croaks, and howls of night life. The moon light lit their faces, both etched with looks of annoyance, desperation, and a little bit of fear.

The girl sighs, hugging herself for warmth, blowing out to see her breathe. "I'm sorry." she murmurs, "I just...it's freaky out here. We're like every stupid couple in those crappy horror movies." she says with a small laugh. The boy laughs too, though rather humorlessly. "Yeah, heh, um..listen. Don't freak out okay. I really don't know where we are." he says. "My phone isn't getting any signal and there's like, nothing to help guide.." he stops speaking as the sound of twigs cracking under somethings footsteps begin to echo around them.

"Allen.." The girl whispers, eyes wide with fear as she inches closer to him, clearly wanting protection. Allen puts his arm around her before shining his light around them.

"I don't see anything, it was probably... OH FUCK!" He screams, causing her to scream and in a panicked attempt at fleeing, both managing to trip over each other, landing on the ground in a pile. Allen begins to chuckle, then laugh uproariously.

"Oh shit, it's a deer!" He says, laughing even harder, mainly due to relief. The deer observes the two curiously, before dashing off into the night. "Oh my god, babe. I'm sorry but that scared the hell out of me." he says, his laughter dying down to a chuckle. "Aw, c'mon," he begins, rubbing his eyes free of the dirt and dust the fall filled them with. "Don't be mad 'Nessa." He says, patting her leg with one hand, while wiping his eyes with the other.

"Really 'Ness?" He asks, sounding mainly annoyed but slightly worried. Had she knocked herself unconscious when they fell? Was she okay? His heart froze as 'Ness began to move. But not of her own accord. Her legs slid from under his grasp and into the air...off of the ground. For a moment, everything stopped. Allen felt as if he could hear and see everything, but could do nothing. He felt the warmth in his pants and he knew he had wet himself. He couldn't..wouldn't turn around, because he knew what he would see was awful. The moonlight had cast it's shadow over him, and he stared at it now. The shadow had antlers, like a deer, but the body..."This has to be wrong...nothing looks like that.." he began to think to himself, fear permeating his every molecule.

He watched as the shadow of this thing ,that was so close behind him he felt it's fur against his neck, raised the body of his girlfriend into the air. He watched as it's mouth opened and it's large, clawed, hands clutched her face. He watched as she squirmed, and he heard a faint, fearful whimper escape her throat. And then a sickening crunch, followed by a wet chewing. Warm drops of blood splattered his face before it began to run down him as if from a faucet. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop himself. He turned to face it.

"ohmygod...ohmygod no.." he muttered, fear audible in every breath he took.

"sssshe wassss...delicioussss" Vicious taunted, moving his face inches closer to his soon to be victims. He ran his lizard like tongue across the boys face, leaving a trail of his girlfriends blood. "Are you?" he asked, laughing maniacally as the boy began to run. He wouldn't get far. The hunt was on. People for miles would report something awful that night. A feeling they'd all gotten after hearing this...howl. A feeling that they all knew instinctually meant something horrible had happened.
......................................................................................................................

Erick Crown made his way through the forest. Wearing only a pair of shredded cargo pants and flip-flops, he whistled to himself as he licked his, now human, fingers clean of blood. Canada had the most amazing forests in North America, and there was always some adventure seeking morons who found themselves stranded out there. He'd stuck around for a while, the hunting was good and he was having fun, but was beginning to tire of it.

"I could use a fucking drink." he muttered to know one in particular. He knew that wouldn't be happening for a while however, as the nearest town was miles away. He figured the couple he'd eaten must have had a car to get there, maybe he'd look for it and ride into town. He lowered his head and inhaled, searching for the scent. This was...curious. He smelled ale. Alcohol. He grunted in confusion, but didn't complain. He entered the bar and just felt...right. He somehow knew his very distressing appearance wouldn't be a problem, and strolled to the counter and sat at a stool.

"Beer." he grunted, "Surprise me." he said, picking meat from his teeth. He glanced over at the... thing...sitting a few seats away from him. Whatever it was, it was drunk. Erick eyed it angrily. He didn't like it, what with it's pumpkin head and loud mouth. He noticed something else in the shadows, but felt no need to address it, as he continued to glare at the pumpkin-head.

"You talk too much." he growled, taking a sip of his beer.

A while bare foot woman marched down the street. Her hair was white and hung down to her lower back with a lock falling just below her breast. Her ice blue eyes burned with fire against her ice cold pale complexion. In her hand was a wrench, about 1 foot and a half long, and her free hand was a fist. A straw of wheat bounced around her mouth as she grind her teeth. A crowd of people only stared as her oversize tee shirt with the logo of a new mechanic shop, 2 gears overlapping each other, acted almost like a dress and almost completely draped over her shorts. An oil streak ran down her cheek and her browns were flurried.

Riley was her name. She had just moved into the Chicago and started up a business called Gear Up. They took request to build and fixed anything from antiques to new cars. If you had the cash, they had the answer. However, it would be best not to skip payments or else Riley would be after you. The woman rarely left the shop or interacted with the customers but when she did, it was never good for them. Everyone knew to stay out of her way but it never stopped people from trying to get the better of her. Its just the nature of shady business.

"Junkie, you owe me something!" She yelled as she stormed toward a man wearing shade and speaking to two crack heads.
One would expect an argument about the problem but Riley did not have time for that. The man had 5 seconds to give the impression he was going to pay now or else he would need his head fixed. The man did not bother to answer, and quickly reached into his pocket. She stopped, folding her arms and tapping her foot on the ground.

When his hand came out, there was no wallet or money. All he had was a knife. A knife did not pay bills.

"Here is your payment bi-" as he lunged Riley impaled the knife into her hand and then slammed her wrench into the man forearm. He screamed, released his knife, and then was knocked to the ground by a wrench to the head.

"I can't pay bills with a knife," she scowled as he fell to the ground.  

The man began speaking gibberish as the woman dug through his pockets for his wallet. Drugs, keys, gum, ect flew all over the road as she rigorously searched the man. When she found a wad of cash, she pulled out 100 dollars.
"This is last months payment"
Then she took out a twenty.
"A tip for coming to you."
Then she took out 70 dollars.
"And this will cover the rest of your bill. Make sure to pick up your receipt. Most useless shit but its the rules I guess. Thank you for your business and be sure to change your oil on time and go easy on the throttle or else."
She took out a notepad and wrote the her recommendations on it. She then kicked him onto this back and slapped the note onto his forehead.
"I didn't kill ya so you be fine nerd."
She shook her head and walked off twirling her wrench which was covered in blood from her hand.

As she walked down the street, she noticed a pub she never seen before. She stopped and looked at her hand. She knew she would have take care of it eventually. At the same time, she felt like she really needed a break from work. The guys could handle themselves, they practically run the place. With a long sign she pushed opened the doors.

The place was empty, for a bar. It was the middle of the day though so it was understandable.
"What the hell?" She blurted walking in with blood still dripping from her hand.
She froze as a chill ran through her body. This place was not normal. Her heart started to beat. She took another step and felt something slimy underneath her toes.
"ECKK WHAT THE HELL," She scream as she jumped back, "DISGUSTING."
She rushed to the counter to grab some napkins and whip off her foot, "Where is the owner, you have a spill on aisle one, my hand is bleeding, and I need a drink, Angry Orchard if you have it. OH and a Long Island."

She looked around and noticed a pumkin head guy and a... ghost?
"On second thought make that two. This place is pissing me off already."

Blood always had a certain smell to it. Iron, bringing with it the faint taste of blood itself. These damn senses always had their downsides, and also made him choose where he ended up going. Boots stepped through a thick puddle of blood, thick squelch reaching his ears as the scrambling of feet could be heard down a rickety staircase and a door was slammed. ”More rats scurrying away.” Samael muttered, following their movements with a slow and even deliberate pace. These little frantic cries of people worrying for their lives, crying and begging to their impotent gods. The concept itself was almost amusing, if the undercurrent of crying itself wasn’t heard. Each step creaked in this annoying way, as if the stairs were there for hundreds of years and specifically wanted to torture his ears in particular.

It was really annoying.

The darkness below wasn’t enough to blind him, everything coming through as clear as if a bright light were being shone on it. Eventually a door came to block him, cracked wood with a few runes hastily scrawled onto it. What amateurs thought would keep him from getting through, but the overall composition of of them were off enough. ”Cultists never understand how this kind of thing works.” He muttered, slamming the flat of his foot against the door. Wood cracked, splintered and shattered as the thing broke from flimsy hinges and fell onto the ground loudly. Beyond was a room, composed mostly of  a dank basement with children huddling in dingy cages, most malnourished and one or two likely dead.

Black eyes scanned over the room, falling to a man dressed in obvious blade robes holding a knife to a shuddering young boys throat. Both reeked of fear and one of urine. His lips curled into a frown, eyes narrowing as if he were hoping to bore through them. ”Think very carefully about what you do next.” His said in a clipped tone, feeling the shadows writhe around him and his patient wear thin. An annoyance bounding mostly with these people and how they so quickly.

“Back up or else i’ll cut them wide open!” The shouted like a frightened boorish creature, eyes wide in fear and sweat dripping from their forehead.

”Not your smartest move there.” He could hear flesh and bone being shorn through, blood splattering across the floor and the same boring person clutching the  stump that once was a hand. ”Never understood my fathers cultists and their fascination with sacrificing children to him. Do you honestly think he cares about that kind of thing?” They were pinned to the wall like a loathsome insect with blades of shadows, dim lighting the only illumination. This person choking on their blood, squirming as if that would do anything. The children cried, in small choking gasps that looked almost too pathetic for him.

”Goddammit.” He groaned, removing a phone from his pocket and leaving the building before dialing 911. Stepping around eviscerated corpses, arms and various pieces strewn across the upper floor. ”Hello. I heard gunshots on 4318 Beeghley street and I think someone might be dead.” He said in a voice that held as proper amount of false fear, hanging up immediately and leaving things to be dealt with as they were. Likely his description would be circulated, but then again he didn’t care too much about that kind of thing.

His mind was now on something else. A small bar that could be accessed by those that wished to find them. He moved through alleyways, ignoring the obvious sounds of police sirens and ended up stepping to some unimportant doorway. Drawing a few runes along the frame and opening it, revealing The Pit beyond it. Smelling of brimestone and strong alcohol, causing his nostrils to burn. A sign that he was someone elses toy to play with and apparantly family was actually a weak point this time around.

Letting a breath huff through his nostrils harshly, he approached the bar and sat down on one of the seats. ”I’ll have the strongest thing you have.” A large glass of dark colored liquid came down and he began downing it without pause.

Judas sat at the bar, sipping his whiskey as he did every weekend. Mac kept them coming steadily, it took a good amount to even get Judas to get buzzed. His eyes drifted to a pumpkin headed man down the bar who began to get rowdy "Calling Mac a coward? You're either quite dumb, or quite brave.." His hand clasped the pumpkin on the back of the neck "Either one works, Red." Judas began to slide himself into the...fonder memories of this..Jack "I do believe we have met before...Jack, is it? Yes well...My name is Judas, if you can..remember me" Judas motioned towards Mac, as more beer was placed onto the bar "What is an Arcadian such as yourself doing here? Bellowing about blue hoodies and such." With a flick of the wrist, the barstool that Judas was sat upon earlier shot across the bar, to a perfect sitting position. "These nights sure are bringing in some odd new faces, ain't it Mac?"

Gwendolyn Everleigh was a sight of beauty (in a dark sort of way) despite her gothic style, pale skin, and unnerving red eyes. She wore a black vest over a sleeveless, thigh length red dress, sheer tights over her arms and legs, black chelsea boots, and lace embellished with gothic designs over her outfit. Her black hair was side swept to the right where her curls hung over her right shoulder. Her daylight parasol was, you guessed it, black with a blood red handle.

She typically only came out during the night, but she knew that today was no day for hunting her next victim or for combat. Despite her lack of apparent motivation for leaving her manor, she would not be foolish enough to leave her Everleigh Family Rapier behind: it was sheathed in its scabbard where it belonged.  She would use it only if she needed it, which would be easy to do because the black scabbard blends in well with her clothing and style.

In truth, Everleigh was scouting for a new location for feeding. As one might guess, her most frequently visited locales eventually became less popular over time. Bars were usually the best places to take her prey because intoxicated victims are easier to discreetly kill, so she planned to enter several and coerce information out of the barkeepers. When the sun set, perhaps she could observe for herself.

As she turned a corner, she glimpsed the sight of a door that she could not remember seeing before. It was naturally intriguing to the woman who had know the city for a very long time, and it the fact that it was a bar made it even more appealing. Before she entered the door, she heard a teenager's shout: "Heyyy, planning to  suck on me tonight?" Everleigh studied the boy for a moment. Perhaps his goal was to appear confident and funny to his group of friends and didn't know who he was dealing with. Countess Everleigh , however, did not discriminate against any who would disrespect her in this way. "No, I'm afraid I'm not hungry," she said before she drew her rapier, stabbed the boy through the chest, and immediately re-sheathed her weapon, "which is why you've been spared. May you grow from this experience, boy."

She figured she would have time before the commotion of law enforcement arrived, so she entered the door for a quick analysis only to find that the patrons appeared far from the norm. No matter, she took a seat near the bartender, accepting that she most likely wouldn't find a meal here. "Surprise me with your drink," she told the barkeeper, "I do not care as long as I am hammered, understand?"

Isaac Silverstein would never usually spend time at a bar like this, to be perfectly honest, he thought it was beneath him. He much rather stay home and enjoy one of his own spirits and not this...brown water. However, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Business came before his own personal feelings in this matter. He had heard from a reliable source that this bar was a favorite among the world's shadier crowds and super-powered individuals who's own morality was in grayer sections. The perfect people to sell to. While they themselves may not have use for his arms, there were plenty of people who may work for them that could use them. Well-armed servant meant a happy master, more work could be done that way and more efficiently. He just had to find the right freak to sell to...

Isaac sat in a booth seat, wearing his grey business suit and crimson red tie, sipping on a mixed drink he had that strange bartender make. He had wanted more answers out of the bartender, leads on who a good person was to sell to, but the bartender only offered Isaac silence. If not for the other people and the probable backlash he would get, he would love to put that bartender in his place. He should know, especially in the service industry, that when someone asks a question, they get a reply. Isaac would just have to wait for the right person to show up and do things to old fashion way, put on some charm and work his own bit of magic.

There was room to worry, however. Isaac lacked any form of abilities, he was human, and in bar full of shady characters...he was at a disadvantage. He had has wife, who was powerful to some degree, but she said she'd be right back, leaving him alone for the moment. If just one of these villains decided they didn't like the way Isaac looked or acted...he'd be dead before he could even get a word out. No...he had to be careful here. He had his revolver on him, but that would do little good in a place like this. He took another long hard sip of his drink and set back down on the table, letting out a heavy sigh. This could've been a mistake...coming here, but...if he played his cards right everything would be a lot better than before.

He looked around the bar at all the strange characters here. There was the pumpkin man...he was out of the question, too weird. The monster, also too weird. There were a few normal looking people, even a few attractive women, not that he would act on any of that, but he knew better than thinking they were normal. They were probably empowered in some way. This was a gonna be a pain in the ass deciding who to sell to. "Fine." He muttered and stood up. He needed a refill on his drink, he would need all the confidence and charisma he could muster if he was really gonna sell to one of these people. Steadily, he walked over to the counter and ordered another drink, trying to keep his distance from the pumpkin man and any company he kept.

She's not sure if she's alive right now. She might as well have died and gone to heaven! Her husbands going out with her, not just for publicity! She's so happy she could melt. The entire time they were entering she couldn't help but keep doing a little happy shake, doing her best to compose her excitability. It's so strange to be this calm whilst in costume, honestly! She wants to do what he needs her to, which is be a calm and cool collected lady by his side, so she'll... Do her best! Just as quickly as they got in, she turned to her loving husband. "Oh, oh! I'm going to the little ladies room! I'll be back very, very quickly! You won't even know I was gone!" She ensures, a bit embarrassed by the fact. She needs to touch up her makeup-- she really should have put some sort of shimmer on her lips, it must look like Isaac's sitting with some plain ugly girl, unbefitting to his, well. Him-ness. That's why she loved makeup so much. It was very good at making her pretty for other people!

Flouncing off to the bathroom, trying to add a bit of a sensual movement to her lower half, she goes to quickly examine herself. Ugh-- yep. She really should have added some sort of lip gloss, or, shimmer; something-- thankfully, she brought some lipstick to reapply. She studied herself critically in the mirror, her brows furrowing under her mask. Gosh, she wishes she had more of a diamond face. Her frustration follows her, as she shakes it off. No, no. Be happy and good. She can do that. She's not going to get weird, this time. Taking a breath, she steps out, her eyes quickly finding her priority-- her husband. She bounds over, the excitement to be here with him evident on her face. "So--" she starts, leaning closer to him. Quickly catching herself, she uses the movement to sit down across from him. "Did you find the people you're doing, the, uhm. Business stuff with?" She blinks dumbly, idly looking around the bar. Everyone seems to be having a lot of fun!

She never got to play around with mixed breeds like this. It's very exciting to watch everyone. They have a sort of-- life, to them? Her eyes are practically sparkling as she flickers about the room, looking at every different thing. To be fair, the smells and sounds here are very big! She scrunches up her face just a bit, the expression hidden between mask and layers of makeup. "This place is very alive, don't you think?" She offers idle conversation, hope tight in her voice. She understands he probably has better things to do than small talk, but, a response would sure be lovely...
He's already doing more than enough by letting her sit with him, in a seat, though! She shouldn't be begging for treats like this right now. However, her gaze-- and nose-- follows where Isaac is looking, to Mr. Pumpkin head. Her sniffing is audible as she blinks again and again. Mmmmm. Too bad that's on a head! Food is nice and she's always liked the smell of things. Especially things like pumpkin, it's so good for her hair! She rests her head in the palm of her hand, letting herself continue to sniff the place out.

However, when her person got up, she was quick to spring up too, following after him like a dog on a leash, her head whipping about to watch all the other people. She doesn't take a seat at first, simply hovering by him like some sort of hired help. She just didn't want to sit if she didn't have the permission to! She was very good at following orders, see? She really didn't mean to mess up that time at the booth. Obviously, this is meant to evaluate herself, that's why he came over here. It's a test. And she's going to prove she's the best at doing things he wants her to. Which, she's assuming, is stand? She'll be the best stand-er in the whole wide world. Look! She's standing! Like a champ! She watches Isaac eagerly at this point, ceasing her gaze about the bar to focus on him.

Jack was surprised when the bar started filling up. Especially for what was a largely unknown locale. The first of which was a shadow woman that had apparently decided to hide in Jacks shadow. Seemed rude to him. He simply had kept drinking. Of course, before the night had even really begun; Jack's dimmer perception made the shadowy woman look incredible. However, he managed to keep his mouth in check when it came to the strange figure.

"And you, smelll like a corpse!" Jack said and downed another pint. The new rude person seemed to be incredibly angry about something. Jack couldn't tell what. If the thing wanted to fight though... Jack produced a flame in his hand and and began waving it in the things face. "Don't think I won't use it." Jack said and began looking for other playthings.

Mac for his part served the drink orders as they came, and watched Jack carefully when he produced the flame. He had cleared his throat and put his hand on the shotgun, making sure that both patrons knew what would happen if they got rowdy.

The blood on the floor was absorbed into the wood when Jack had looked over to see the new patron. "Hey pretty girl.
How much would it take for you and I to figure out if the bathroom has a stable stall?"

The red haired guy with the black eyes kind of annoyed Jack, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe he just had a punchable face. That seemed like a thing.

That was when the dead man dared put his arms on Jack... It took Jacks boozed up brain to realize that it was Judas! An old friend! "Judas, you sly bitch! How are we doing?!" Jack asked before standing up to hug the older man. That was when he mentioned the blue hoodie. "Fuuuuck that guy!" Jack yelled and smashed a bottle on the ground.

This time, Mac raised the gun and aimed before the bar made him put it down. Apparently when they shared nutrients, whatever this thing was would be quite tasty. Mac put down the gun, and nodded at Judas about faces.

Mac sat a special moonshine in front of the vampire. "Brew it myself." Mac said and pointed a hand at his concoction.

Jack stood up and began to feel his head clear. He grabbed another beer, and threw it back. But not before a clear thought ran through his pumpkin head. He was surrounded by what seemed to be villains based on the fears - or lack thereof - that they all shared. He could schmooze them up and start a villain team.

That redheaded girl had been sniffing the air like a dog, which... admittedly was strange. But beggars can't be choosers when it comes to forming a team. Jack eased his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he had gotten from a buddy of his. His mind was already swimming in booze again.

When the other line picked up, Jack yelled into it. "Hey Issrael! Youu blue coated fuuck. Is me. Mad Jack.
Er. Misser Nightmare. Thas right, you better be scared! Cos I'm shtarting a villain group with these fuuucks!" Jack yelled the last bit and raised the cell phone as the new girl walked into the bar.

"And that'sh the way the cookie crumblesh, bitch!" Jack yelled finishing his conversation and hanging up the phone just as Mac served the newcomer a hurricane.
Ignore him. He's insane." Mac had said to the girl.

Interesting... Indara thought as she glanced about the room.

There were so many lost souls that had found the living bar wherein she also presently found herself. A strange crowd, by Earth standards, and many of them thirsty for blood, especially the wendigo. She recognized his icy aura immediately, and the vampire and revenant were equally recognizable.

The others were more difficult to pin down. The man with the pumpkin head? He was particularly strange. He appeared to be possessed, having two auras coming from him instead of one, but she was uncertain what manner of being he was.

Regardless of who or what they all were, she was content to simply hover in place...

... And watch.

Erick growled, but didn't reply. instead taking a chug of his drink. The freak show around him had grown, and he was eyeing the bars other occupants.  He could feel something in the air, something was going to happen, but he would wait and see how it unfolded. As much of a loner as he was, he couldn't help but feel some sort of comradery with the other things in the bar.

"Smell like a corpse!!!" Riley shouted, she did not care about all the other freaks and weirdos that came in. It was this talking jack-o-lantern that took her interest and by interest, she meant anger. It was not over yet though. The thing started waving fire around like it was some deterrent. Fire bad fire bad, no to Riley fire good. She could use it to power up and then knock some sense into the user.

She grinned, "Haha, At least I'm not late to Halloween. Just try and burn me damn fruit. I have been itching to..." In the corner of her eye she saw the bartender grab his shotgun.

Like hell she was afraid of a shot gun. She was already dead, whats a few iron pellets going to do to her. Still, the man did bring her drinks so maybe she could wait a bit longer.
"Hmmph."
Riley grabbed her drinks and began downing them. Then she sipped slowly only her beer. This was a full house and the house and everyone here was surely trouble. A little too much trouble if you asked her. She dropped some bills on the counter and made her way to the door. The place was just too... orderly. It was pissing her off, especially the pumpkin head. Bars were suppose to be rowdy, a place were people would just start problems and solve them with a few knocks to the head. Plus she never got that bandages and her body could get infected or something, that that she would notice. It would be a pain to have to build a new body so early in her new life.

Then it hit her. That ghost thing. It was quiet, and just haunting like. Was it a ghost because Riley was the only ghost in this part. It was her thing. Her body suddenly because white and her eyes glowed. Then she started to float while her body because more transparent but not invisible. She floated to the ghost growling in Jack's shadow.

"Look ghost, I don't like you. All quiet and hiding in shadows. Why don't you come out and play. I know a good game called leave cause I am the only ghost in this town. None have the right to haunt areas that should be mine!"

Samuel took the drink and worked at it in a rapid pace. Downing them, and just sending back for another while people milled in one after another while ignoring the odd cambion that continued to feed his addiction. Some of the patrons were stranger than others while some didn’t even speak at all. The one that caused him the most annoyance was the one that had a pumpkin for a head. Not that they wouldn’t have been an eyesore without saying anything, but the words really annoyed him. All seemed to be going fine until the pumpkin head began rambling into his phone, causing an overall disturbance and ruining his drinking time.

”Like hell I would join any stupid villain group started by a pumpkin man,” A pause for a second as if realizing something and ordered another drink. ”Right...I am supposed to join a group run by an idiot pumpkin.” He muttered and began drinking again.