Forums » General Roleplay » Trick-or-Treat: Leon Robertson

A huge mansion. A comically oversized box. And me, sitting in a chair, wearing a Deadpool costume, complete with pistols and katanas. Inside the box is nothing, but at the same time everything. You reach your hand in, and your favorite candy is what you pull out. At least the first time. If you reach your hand in again to be greedy, you get a very small and short shock, akin to that of a joy buzzer. "I wonder if I'll get more visitors this year."

A young boy in a soldier's costume marched up the long drive to the mansion, an orange, half-full pumpkin bucket clutched in his left hand. He had already been to one house tonight, and they had given him lots of treats. So he really didn't need any more. The boy just liked seeing the different houses decorated for All Hallow's Eve, which was what Halloween was originally called.

Arriving at the front porch, the boy, David, saw a man in a red costume sitting in a chair next to the door. "Trick or Treat." David saluted, clicking his heels together and standing at attention,

It was that time again.

He couldn't talk, but he did want to grab sweets. More suitable for dogs like himself. Repede was wearing what appeared to be a uniform? No, he was dressed as Lloyd... something that a four legged canine would not dressed like.

He carried a leather pouch around his neck as he slowly padded down the side walks. Looking up, the blue furred canine reached a house,where he saw a young boy. Keeping his distance, by walking over to the lad, he sat on fours, a few feet from the boy and looked up at the door, waving his tail abit.

"Woof...Woof..Guraff!"

I smile when I see the little soldier. "Hello there, soldier." I stand up and salute him. "Reach into the box, and see what you pull out." I motion to the box.

When I notice Repede, I walk over to him and kneel down in front of him. "Well hello there, little guy. I think I've got something just for you." I reach behind my back, and from seemingly out of nowhere I pull a dog bone, and show it to Repede. "It's chocolate flavored. Or at least, that's what the packaging said. And I made sure that it doesn't have anything that could hurt you."

I laugh softly. "So this is where you have been. I have been calling you." I turn in my grim reaper costume. "It's close to what I normally wear, but I think this counts." I walk up the steps and look inside the box. "Let me guess, just magic?" I reach in and take a Hershey's kiss. "Oh, you shouldn't have." I blush softly.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, this suit is skin tight, so I can't exactly have my phone on me. Plus the pouches on my belt aren't exactly big enough for a phone." I walk over to Gwenevieve, and lean against the wall.

"You look good in the suit." I wink. "It fits your personality very well." I pop the Hershey's in my mouth. "Well, I shall see you later," I say with a nod and the chocolate wedging into my cheek. I turn and begin down the stairs, a cheeky smile on my face.

"Well, I am a bit more than crazy." I laugh lightly. "You better be careful. I don't want to wake up tomorrow and hear that you got hurt." I take off my mask, revealing the very detailed makeup that makes me look like the train wreck that is Deadpool's face from the comics. I reach into the box, pull out a chocolate bar, and proceed to eat it.

I giggle my way down the street, casting looks at you, renewing my smile.

A pale woman walked briskly from house to house. She is dressed in a scientist costume, complete with labcoat, clip board and a tight, no-nonsense bun pulled up on the top of her head. She didn't knock, and rarely approached further than the sidewalk. Indeed, she simply seemed to be reviewing the neighborhood, or maybe she was providing chaperone services for the neighborhood children, ensuring there were no teenagers taking the "tricks" too far and scaring the little ones this evening?

She stopped in front of Leon's house, and stood there scowling at his Deadpool costume for many long, uncomfortable seconds, before briskly approaching his porch. Again, she scowls at him, unblinking.

Eventually, she says, "Do you think that's appropriate? Let's see what else you're corrupting the minds of our youths with," and sticks her hand into the magic box.

Apparently, her favorite treat is an American flag pin. She stares at it in unvarnished surprise. "...Perhaps I've underestimated your patriotism."

"Well, you could hardly say that I'm corrupting youth, seeing as any kid with $2.50 can go to a comic book store and get a Deadpool comic book, and no one will stop them. Plus there's the Deadpool video game, which is all about murder. And do I think this costume is appropriate? Appropriate yes, comfortable no. Last year, someone tried to rob me. No one's gonna try to rob someone who's armed." I shrug.

Irene looks like she is going to make some argument to Leon's line of reasoning, but when he mentions being robbed? This gives the good doctor pause. "Someone tried to rob you? For your... candy?"

"No, not for the candy. For all the expensive stuff inside. He thought that since I'm rich I'd be a pushover. But since my weapons were in the house, I had to fight him off with my bare hands. Let's just say I sent him to the ICU instead of the police station." I laugh lightly.

Hatfield's expression darkened considerably as she listened to this Halloween tale. And her expression hadn't been very pleasant to begin with. "I am sorry to hear that you have had to tangle with the bad elements of society. You are to be commended for your handling of the situation. Though," she sniffed, "I still find the use of a costume from a rated R movie while passing out candy to minors to be encouraging the wrong sort of entertainment for young children."

Oooh, she just couldn't let it go.

"But the flags are a nice touch. You're a complicated case."

I smile under my mask. "Complicated. That word is used to describe me a lot. But hey, in the comics, Deadpool stopped an alternate reality version of himself from altering classic literature, by killing the characters in them. That would've been worse for kids to read than his comics. Imagine a kid opening up Mark Twain's book The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn for a school project, and reading about Tom Sawyer getting his brains splatters all over the fence he was painting. In great detail. That's not a world I want to live in."

For a long while after this explanation, the good doctor simply stares at Leon. An uncomfortable silence stretches between them. Then abruptly, she turns and walks away, muttering about moral peril. What a very chipper person she is.