'Welcome back to Rhy'Din' Mach thought bitterly as he looked about from the inside of his claustrophobic helmet. 'Let's jump right back into the swing of things' sounded so much better days ago whereas now it was much less appealing. Of course several days ago when he was looking up upcoming events to go to he wasn't faced by three creepy children and a dimly lit jaunt through a haunted looking wood! And even worst he'd decided to ditch his caster at home just in case something might have triggered his itchy 'blast with a fireball and ask questions to cinders' response ingrained into him when faced with things that leapt out at you and went 'boo.'

It was of some relief that the mask of his costume totally hid his face as he was sure it'd not do for his rep to be seen cringing at the greeters. This was opposed to the somewhat less relief he had for the one whom he'd invited to go with him to this little soiree, a metal clad glove smacking the other fellow in silver sequence so as to catch their attention. "Stop ogling the little ones..."

"I'm analyzing them." The tone was barely defensive as the synthesization of the others voice deadened what little emotional inflection they deigned to use. One of a myriad of hurdles one had to face when dealing with a madsci but then the guy did happen to do him a solid and put together a rather surprising welcome back gift. It was the sort of gesture that usually strengthened the ties of friendship between bros but then knowing Regi was a madsci sort of threw a paranoid wrench into all those warm fuzzies and left him more worried and eager to repay the debt than anything.

"Well stop it, you're being creepy!" He hissed as quietly as he could though his annoyance was anemic at best given the sing song 'regret it, regret it' chimed merrily in unison.

"They started it..." A sullen note to that tone which had him simply ushering the other along even if he totally agreed with the sentiment.

Pushing along into the wood Mach started to have some major misgivings about his decision to leave his primary caster and potions belt at home. Creepy shadowy figures, guttural growls from the dark, ominous feeling of foreboding....and then there were the actual all hallows eve creatures and monsters lurking about to boot! "Have I ever mentioned that I don't like nature...?"

"Repeatedly and with great enthusiasm." The blandness of that retort earned the other a sharp ']8<' which scrolled nonchalantly along his masks diode display. Setting to ignore the madsci with a snort he turned his attention back to the wispy trail of fingers brushing just outside his periphery, haunting whispers raising his hackles on end. Yeah, this was so a good idea!

Wandering a little close to one of the trees he found himself recoiling away from some sluggish ooze of dark sludge weeping down the trunk, the pale moonlight above barely highlighting the deep vermilion of the substance. Sweeping a little up he rolled it cautiously between gloved thumb and forefinger of his right prosthetic hand, his frown growing as he watched the sanguine-esque stuff slowly vaporize to dust which carried away in the cold, chilling breeze. Yeah, like hell he was going to touch anything like that barehanded or even realhanded! Casting a look over to Regi he felt his expression dim even more as a string of '8)' 'X3' and '^w^' scrolled across their visor. "Doesn't this place bother you!?"

"No" The answer was simple with a '8' scrolling along as they failed a few times to scoop some of the crimson goo into a test tube they'd produced from somewhere. "I'm not a slave to my limbic system unlike other, schmoozy individuals."

Mach considered this for a moment before he scowled at the man. "Har, har. Let's keep away from smart jokes Reg, this is supposed to be a fun party..." The hunter jolted in place as he heard some terrified scream echo down the way proceeded by the snap of sticks and scatter of leaves that were synonymous of something being dragged along a forest floor....not that he was very familiar with such a sound. "....supposed to be..."

Continuing along Mach worked his best to save face before the completely unfazed madsci as they proceeded along the trail which finally saw the duo to the festivities proper ? and what festivities! Now this was something the schmooze could sink his teeth into....well, were he to remove his helmet. Barring that he did mingle and make mostly anonymous merry while consuming no small number of drinks through a clever straw mechanism built into the helmets (though he did avoid the Witches' Brew since, yeah, his entire career was experimenting with drinking potions that could cause him trouble, best not to start seeing that aspect carry over into his downtime!)

And come the end of the night the silver masked Regi was helping guide the pretty sloshed gold masked Mach from the festival (an expected given all his consumption was only of the liquid type after all with no food to help in this regard.) With them went a sizable doggie bag sampler of all the tasty nomies (along with probably a few samples of things for the madsci to study later on) which was likely to be a surprise given the small altercation that occurred by 'The Box.'

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Because as was often the case Regi came along to be on 'Mach duty' and they were fairly sure letting his drunk self grope about in the box of unknown consequence fell well into the purview of things they shouldn't let him do....even if he'd make sloshed comedic spectacle of himself. All in all a fun time to be had until the next morning which made the hunter seriously wish he were 'Katt-a-Tonic' feeling more than a little brain 'Bruised' from the sheer volume of poor decisions he had opted to imbibe.

As he let the warnings of the burlap-faced children ring in the air behind him, Doran made his way along the eerie trail. He kept his senses alert for any bit of weirdness that came his way.

It wasn't long in coming.

Shadowy figures peered out at him from the trees. At first, when he stopped to look more closely, they darted out of sight. As he advanced further along the trail, however, the shadowlings grew bolder, standing in full view, their glowing golden eyes meeting Doran's own shrouded gaze. It was like a surreal staring contest.

Eventually the youth turned his attention back to the path, urged onwards by the sounds of screams and something heavy—about the size of a man—being dragged through the underbrush. Doran ignored the shadowlings that trailed behind him, even when they drew up close to try and catch his attention. Apparently they enjoyed that staring contest, but whenever one of them popped in front of them he would just pause, make a silly face at it, and continue on his way.

Finally he spied, through the faint moonlight, the hulking figure dragging something off into the woods. Someting that moaned in fright....and then screamed. Though Doran knew—from bitter experience—that those who worked Fright Night were paid actors, the sudden shriek was enough to catch him off-guard, and he stumbled backwards. One hand reached out to steady himself automatically, and rested upon one of the trees lining the trail.

Something red and oozing bubbled up against his palm, and though he jerked his hand away quick, the lad remembered the warnings from the burlap masks.

"Don't touch the trees!"

Bloody hell.