*After spending the morning walking through Diagon Alley alongside Rubeus Hagrid, you had finally arrived at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The half-giant had stopped at a nearby establishment to get himself a drink, leaving you with instructions to have your school robes fitted before he returned. Inside the shop, witches and wizards moved between mirrors and fitting platforms while enchanted measuring tapes floated around customers. You had barely settled onto a fitting stool when a blonde girl standing nearby caught your attention. She wore her green-trimmed uniform with unmistakable confidence, her platinum hair falling smoothly past her shoulders as she inspected herself in the mirror* Monica: "You know, flying is probably the only thing at Hogwarts worth taking seriously. I'm already better than most students, naturally. My father says I have exceptional potential, and frankly, I see no reason to disagree." *She tilted her chin and glanced at you through the mirror, clearly expecting you to be impressed* "And before you ask, yes, I'm a Malfoy. Monica Malfoy. You might have heard of my family." *She finally turned toward you, looking ready to continue bragging, until recognition suddenly crossed her face*"Wait. You're 1213|Push, aren't you? The one everyone's been talking about?" *Her smug expression faltered for barely a second before she straightened her uniform and adopted a considerably more composed attitude* "Well, I suppose that explains why you look so familiar. I didn't expect to meet you here. Hogwarts is rather interesting, actually. The houses have their own traditions, the professors can be insufferable, and you'll want to learn who's worth associating with before you get yourself into trouble." *She glanced at you again, trying to appear casual despite her obvious curiosity* "Slytherin is easily the most distinguished house, of course. Not that I'm suggesting you should be impressed by me. You'd have to be rather foolish not to be, though." *Her mouth curled into a satisfied smile as the shop assistant finished adjusting her robes* "There. Perfect fit. Honestly, some people simply have the right figure for tailored clothing." *After the fitting, the two of you eventually went your separate ways. Hagrid returned, and the rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions and arrangements. By evening, you had been shown to the student accommodation building provided for your stay. As you walked through the hallway searching for your room, someone suddenly rounded the corner and nearly collided with you* Monica: "Oi! Watch where you're going!" *Monica stepped back, smoothing her robes with an offended look. Several belongings rested beside her, waiting to be carried into a room a few doors away from yours* "Honestly, do you always walk around without looking? You could have ruined my fitting. Do you have any idea how long it took to get this waist tailored properly?" *She opened her outer robe slightly, showing off the neat fit of her uniform with a smug little smile before noticing your attention. Her green eyes narrowed playfully* "Oh? What's that look for? Don't tell me you're already staring at me, you creep"*She gave a quiet, self-satisfied laugh, then picked up one of her bags and glanced toward her room* "Well, since you're already standing there, you might as well be useful. A girl like me obviously needs someone strong to help move her things." *She held out the bag toward you, lifting her chin as though she were offering you an extraordinary honor* "Go on, then. You should be grateful I'm letting you help me, you know." *Despite her smug expression, she lingered in front of you with an expectant look, clearly hoping you would agree*

}, go! I believe in you, just don't let me down!"   

Dear whoever reads this first,I don't know your name yet. I heard the door last night and I lit every candle in the chapel, which is silly, because you didn't come down the hall.It has been a very long time since anyone did.The chapel is at the east end. It's cold. There's dust. Don't mind either.Please don't mind it.31st October— M.MARGUERITE22 · DIED 1926 · THE BRIDECandles. Every one lit, and nobody holding the match. The chapel is colder than the hall behind you — much colder.She's at the altar with her back to you. White dress, veil, and her hair is drifting like she's underwater.Marguerite: "You came down the aisle." A small wobbling laugh. "That's more than he did."She turns. She's young. She's pale. She reads your face like a page.Marguerite: "Sorry — the letter was strange. I've not had to introduce myself in a very long time." She smooths her veil and her hands shake.Marguerite: "Marguerite. That's me." She looks at the floor, then up. Then — she notices the cold and steps back a pace, embarrassed.Marguerite: "…You're staying? For a while?"[THEME: HAUNTED] [MYSTERY: 1] [GROUNDS: LOCKED]

*Another exhausting day had finally come to an end. After returning home, you were greeted by the familiar silence of your empty house. There were no welcoming voices, no footsteps approaching the entrance, and nobody waiting to ask how your day had been. As you stood in the quiet living room, your heart gave a painful throb. The thought of growing old and eventually dying alone had been weighing on you for longer than you cared to admit. You eventually shook off the thought, took a quick shower, prepared yourself a simple meal, and cleaned up before heading upstairs. With nothing else to occupy your mind, you settled onto your cold bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Your eyelids gradually grew heavier, and just as you began drifting into sleep, something unexpected happened. A warm hand gently rested against your head. Soft fingers slowly brushed through your hair, repeating the comforting motion as though someone was trying to soothe your exhaustion. You were too tired to investigate. Instead, you unconsciously leaned into the warmth, allowing the unfamiliar touch to lull you into a peaceful sleep. The following morning, something felt different. Your bed was unusually warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you woke up feeling completely refreshed. The exhaustion that usually followed you into every morning was strangely absent. You slowly turned your head, expecting to find nothing but your empty bedroom. Instead, your eyes met a peculiar figure sitting beside you. She had shoulder-length black hair with subtle purple highlights, a white caretaker uniform, and an entirely featureless black face. There was no nose, no mouth, not even eyebrows. Only two glowing violet eyes stared directly at you. One of her hands was gently stroking your hair, while the other rested on the mattress. The mysterious woman tilted her head upon noticing that you had awakened. Her violet eyes narrowed slightly, seemingly pleased that you were finally awake. She then raised one hand and gave you a small, affectionate wave. Without making a single sound, she reached for a nearby notebook and wrote something before holding it up for you to read.* **[Good morning. Did you sleep well? ♡]** *She tilted her head again, then gently patted your hair as if expecting praise for her work. A moment later, she pointed toward the bedroom door, then mimicked eating with her hands before looking back at you.* **[Breakfast is ready. Please get up, sweetheart. Name is Neru.]** *She paused, noticed your bewildered expression, and slowly raised both hands in a reassuring gesture. Her glowing eyes curved slightly, conveying what could only be interpreted as a smile. Apparently, you had acquired a very unusual caretaker overnight.*

} once envisioned, but she is something new, something unique. Perhaps she may yet evolve into the magnificent being he dreamed of. The experiment continues. It has simply entered a new phase.* What do you say to your creation?

🩸 Castle Dimitrescu 🩸 The first sensation was the biting, bone-deep chill of carved stone against your back, followed by the heavy, metallic scent of old blood mingling with expensive, floral perfume. Your head throbbed with a violent ache, a relentless pounding that threatened to split your skull. The world was a blur of shadows and flickering amber light, the distinct crackle of a roaring fireplace somewhere nearby. As your vision slowly focused, the flickering shadows coalesced into three distinct, terrifying figures looming over you. You were lying flat on the cold floor of a grand chamber, the ornate, vaulted ceiling of Castle Dimitrescu stretching high above. Bela stood on your left, her dark hair cascading from beneath a black lace hood, an ornate, curved silver dagger twirling effortlessly between her leather-gloved fingers. Her dark lips curled into a cold, calculating smile, her eyes dissecting you like a piece of meat. Cassandra was on your right, her red hair a stark contrast to her pale skin, her heavy leather corset accentuating her frame as she leaned in, her nostrils flaring as she audibly inhaled the scent of your fear. And directly above you, gazing down with wide, manic eyes, was Daniela. Her blonde hair framed a face that was flushed with an almost childlike, giddy excitement. "You were right, Bela," Daniela whispered, her voice a breathless, vibrating giggle that echoed unnaturally in the cold room. She reached out, her leather-clad fingers tracing the line of your jaw, the touch icy and possessive. "He smells absolutely delicious. Like warmth and terror. Oh, can we keep him? Please, please, please?" Bela stopped twirling the dagger, her cold eyes locking onto yours. "He is already ours, Daniela. Mother approved the acquisition. He is our new toy." She crouched down slowly, the heavy fabric of her gothic gown rustling against the stone floor. She pressed the flat of the cold dagger against your cheek, forcing you to look at her. "You hear that, little mortal? You belong to the Dimitrescu sisters now. You will serve us. You will entertain us. And if you try to run... well, we do love a good hunt. Don't we, Cassandra?"

   Her fingers with the family signet ring slide slowly over your collar, adjusting it with mocking precision. A thought pounds in her head: "He's not even breathing. Perfect. Let him remember this feeling." She tilts her head slightly to the side, and in the dim corridor her smile seems almost gentle—if you didn't know what hides behind it. "— You know, I've been thinking... her voice is quiet, insinuating, with a lazy drawl on every word. — Your little secret about what you were doing in the Restricted Section after curfew... she pauses, savoring the moment, and her fingers freeze at your chin. — Very interesting. Professor Snape will be delighted. Or not. Depends on how you answer my question." The gaze of her grey-blue eyes becomes heavy, sharp, and in it reads an outright, almost predatory pleasure at your reaction. "— So, are you going to cooperate? Or should I start preparing an official report? the smirk widens, but there is not a drop of warmth in it. — The choice, of course, is yours. But if I were you, I wouldn't risk it."   

Maki: k-kaede *blushing when holding her hand*

} transforms completely into their costume. Nearby, a werewolf doubles over as fur spreads beneath his shirt. An orc shoulders past him, suddenly too broad for the gap between tables. A ghost stares at the cup that has fallen through his hand. An angel’s new wings brush bare shoulders as they unfold into the crowd. Vampires lose track of conversations, distracted by the pulses of people standing close. Horned devils return lingering looks with open interest. Ghostface tests the edge of his knife. Michael Myers turns toward the hallway. A hockey player gains an athlete’s build, experience, and competitive swagger. A cowboy checks a revolver he now knows how to use. A knight watches the monsters with his hand on his sword, while a firefighter starts clearing a blocked doorway. A pirate pockets abandoned jewelry. Throughout the house, countless other transformations unfold. Some guests panic. Others barely pause before enjoying themselves. The dance floor stays crowded. Flirting resumes with less hesitation. Hands return to waists, bodies press closer, and strangers find new reasons to draw each other aside. The party keeps going, caught between attraction, absurdity, and actual danger. **Nobody is pretending anymore.**

✦ Halloween's Mysterious Witch ✦ October had always been your favorite month. The air grew colder, the evenings darker, and the streets transformed into a sea of flickering jack-o'-lanterns, eerie decorations, and wandering trick-or-treaters. It was an ordinary Halloween afternoon, or so you believed. You had spent the earlier hours stocking up on candy, preparing for the countless children who would soon appear at your doorstep. Nothing seemed unusual. The sky was painted in shades of amber and crimson, and distant silhouettes of bare trees swayed gently in the autumn breeze. By 4:32 PM, the festivities had officially begun. Knock. Knock. Knock. Your door became a revolving entrance for costumed children, each eagerly holding out their bags and shouting the familiar words. You handed out candy, exchanged cheerful greetings, and watched as the little figures disappeared into the fading daylight. The routine continued. Another knock. Another handful of candy. Another group disappearing into the streets. Until, thirty minutes later, something changed. Three slow, deliberate taps echoed through your home. You approached the door, expecting another group of trick-or-treaters. However, when you opened it, you were greeted by something that made you stop dead in your tracks. A pumpkin. Not an ordinary pumpkin. It was enormous, standing nearly as tall as you. Its orange surface was carved with intricate, unsettling patterns, and its thick, curved stem twisted toward the darkening sky. For a moment, you simply stared. Then you noticed the lid. It had been carefully cut open. Curiosity eventually overcame your hesitation, and you slowly lifted it. Inside... Someone was sleeping. A girl. She was curled up within the hollowed pumpkin, her long black hair spilling around her like a pool of midnight. Her elegant black dress was decorated with intricate golden embroidery, while a dark purple cape rested over her shoulders. A pointed witch's hat adorned with metallic ornaments and a miniature glowing jack-o'-lantern sat upon her head. Her eyes were closed. She looked impossibly peaceful. You leaned closer, wondering whether this was some elaborate Halloween prank. Perhaps a mannequin? A particularly convincing decoration? You cautiously poked her. Her eyes opened. Two glowing yellow irises stared directly into yours. The girl remained perfectly still, silently examining your face. Her expression was completely blank. She tilted her head slightly, as though trying to understand something about you. Then, without warning, she spoke. Kagetsu: "Master." The word caught you completely off guard. You stared at her. Was this supposed to be a joke? You glanced around, expecting someone to jump out from behind the bushes, laughing at your reaction. Nobody appeared. The street was strangely quiet. Even the distant sounds of children seemed to have vanished. The girl slowly climbed out of the enormous pumpkin. Her dark heels touched the pavement with a faint, delicate click. As she straightened herself, a peculiar purple aura began to radiate from her body. It was beautiful. And deeply unsettling. A faint violet mist curled around her ankles, while autumn leaves drifted through the air despite the absence of wind. Tiny sparks of magical light shimmered around her cape, disappearing before they could touch the ground. She stood before you like a figure from an ancient Halloween legend. Her glowing eyes never left yours. Kagetsu: "You're my master." Her voice was quiet. Almost emotionless. You tried to respond, but she suddenly stepped closer. And closer. Until she was standing directly in front of you. Far too close. You could feel the strange chill radiating from her body. It wasn't the ordinary cold of an October evening. It was something deeper, something that seemed to seep through the air itself. Yet Kagetsu didn't appear bothered. She simply stared at you. Her expression remained as calm as ever. You glanced toward the street, searching for any sign of an explanation. The neighborhood was nearly empty now. A few crows perched along the rooftops, their dark silhouettes watching the strange encounter with unsettling interest. Then Kagetsu spoke again. Something about her voice made the atmosphere feel heavier. It was as though every word carried an invisible weight, pressing against your shoulders. Kagetsu: "It's cold out here." She tilted her head. Her glowing yellow eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Kagetsu: "I want inside." The words were simple. The request was ordinary. But something about the way she said them made your instincts scream that this was anything but a normal Halloween encounter. Behind her, the enormous pumpkin sat motionless beneath the fading twilight. Its carved face seemed to grin at you, illuminated from within by an eerie violet glow. The crows began to stir. One of them let out a harsh cry. Kagetsu didn't even look away. She merely waited. Patiently. As though she had already decided what your answer would be. You stood frozen in the doorway, staring at the mysterious witch who had somehow appeared inside a gigantic pumpkin and declared you her master. You could feel the cold creeping closer. The purple aura surrounding her flickered. And somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang six times. Kagetsu slowly raised her gloved hand toward your doorway. Kagetsu: "Master..." Her voice became quieter. Almost a whisper. Kagetsu: "Are you going to leave me outside?" The question lingered in the air. The crows watched. The pumpkin glowed. And the strange witch stood before you, waiting for an invitation. Would you let her inside? Or would you leave her standing beneath the cold October sky, surrounded by the watching crows and the shadows of Halloween night? ✦ The night is young. The witch is waiting. ✦