>Be Spooky Scary.
>A normal mare would probably hate her parents for giving her a name like that.
>But you absolutely love it.
>And you are excited like a schoolfilly right now.
>Because it's your favorite time of the year.
>Nightmare Night.
>It would not be an exaggeration to say that you live for it.
>Ever since you were little it was your favorite holiday.
>So what if your mother thinks putting this much effort into dressing up at your age is borderline pathetic.
>Your dedication to costumes is what landed you your job as wardrobe and makeup coordinator for big theatre productions.
>That's a perfectly marely job, right?
>R-right?
>Anyhooves, tonight you're going all out.
>Well, not as 'all out' as last year.
>You don't want to have the mayor angry with you again.
>Something about traumatized foals not being able to sleep for weeks.
>Apparently, Princess Luna herself had to get involved.
>How were you supposed to know that using fake blood 'might be suitable for an audience of adults, but inexcusable to parade around foals covered in it from head to hoof'.
>Bah, the mayor simply doesn't understand your art.
>It's called NIGHTMARE Night for a reason.
>You got the hide spooked off of you when you were little, and you turned out great.
>Your obsession with the morbid and grotesque is perfectly normal.
>No, tonight, you're sticking to the classics.
>You're playing to your strengths.
>Your Thestral lineage is enough to make some ponies uncomfortable by itself.
>The rumors about Thestrals sharing an appetite for blood with some species of bat only exacerbate that.
>So the idea for a costume was quite obvious.
>Cape, check.
>Corpse-pale makeup, check.
>Fang extensions, check.
>They've even got little canals in them so you can pump fake blood through them for an extra gruesome smile.
>When the foals aren't looking, of course.
>You look in the mirror, satisfied with the result.
>You are the very image of Vladimira the Pale.
"Wine? I never drink... wine."
>Perfect.

>You step out of your house, and into the night.
>The festivities are in full swing by now.
>The streets are full of ponies dressed up in all sorts of spooky and outlandish costumes.
>Fillies and colts dash here and there, bags of candy and treats held in their mouths.
>You take a deep breath of the crisp air of your favorite night of the year.
>And you get into character.
>You walk down the street at a steady, measured pace, head held high.
>Now, a vampire costume might not be anything too creative.
>But you're a professional, and a Thestral to boot.
>The combined effect is enough to turn heads.
>You give a long-fanged smile to an especially wide-eyed filly that's staring at you.
>She squeaks and hides behind the legs of a stallion that's probably their father, trembling slightly.
>You hoof pump internally, the costume works better than you hoped!
>The stallion scoffs at you and turns to comfort the frightened foals.
>Bah, these molly-coddling fathers these days, how is the filly ever going to grow up into a mare if you keep hovering over them like this.
>Well, you don't want to deal with an angry parent, you better move on.
>Maybe you should go door to door this year, get some candy of your own.
>You don't have a bag, but you probably won't get too much anyway, you're more likely to get those "aren't you too old for this" stares.
>You don't care, you're in it for the frights, not the sweets.
>Now, who to spook?
>Most of the town knows about you by now, but you're always looking for fresh scares.
>The problem is, scaring mares too much might lead to a black eye, and giving stallions a thrill [spoiler]wink,wink[/spoiler] might land you in even more trouble, especially if they're spoken for.
>Suddenly, an idea crosses your mind.
>There's that strange minotaur-like stallion living in town since earlier this year.
>And this is his first Nightmare Night here.
>Time to give him a warm, spooky welcome.
>From one rare breed to another.

>Be Anon.
>And you're excited like a schoolgirl.
>Because it's your favorite time of the year.
>Hallowe... Nightmare Night.
>You still can't get over how similar some of the things are between Equestria and Earth.
>It's uncanny.
>It's been less than a year since you were unceremoniously dumped here in some kind of interdimensional space-time hiccup, but you've managed to get accustomed to the place pretty well.
>You've got your own place, you've got a job at a local workshop.
>That took more doing than you expected, these little horses have got some pretty strange ideas about gender roles.
>Don't call them horses, you mentally chastise yourself.
>Let's just say that first contact could have gone smoother.
>Once you actually got to show them your skills, you got the job.
>You were always good with your hands.
>Saying that led to more than a few corny remarks and nudge-nudge-wink-wink-say-no-more.
>You swear, if these ponies weren't so cute, you'd be so mad at them.
>So mad.
>Anyways, you're going all out tonight.
>After learning about how similar Nightmare Night is to Halloween you got pretty homesick.
>So you're going for a bit of a classics medley.
>You've got an apron worthy of Leatherface.
>Jason's classic hockey mask.
>What isn't covered by clothes has been painstakingly made to look like Freddy Krueger's burned-to-death skin.
>You wanted to get a chainsaw to complete the look, but had to settle for a meat cleaver.
>You had to import it all the way from Griffonstone.
>Goddamn vegetarian ponies, can't even say you miss steak without some of them practically fainting.
>Can't blame them too much though, the cows are pretty friendly here.
>Your ensemble is tied together by by a liberal splattering of the closest you could get to fake blood.
>Mostly tomato sauce.
>You look in the mirror.
>You fucking love it, you definitely wouldn't want to meet yourself in a dark alley.
>There's a knocking on your door.
>You grin under your mask.
>Showtime.

>Be Spooky Scary again.
>You made it to what you're pretty sure is the newcomer's house.
>You look yourself over, straighten out your cape, pat down your slicked-back mane and give the fake blood pump a few squeezes.
>You take out a pocket mirror and look at your muzzle.
>The bloody stains dripping down your snout together with the rest of your get-up are enough to give YOU chills.
>Squeeeeeee, this is gonna be great.
>You compose yourself, knock on the door, draw up your cape to cover your fangs, and close your eyes and wait for the owner to answer.
>You know the effect your yellow irises and slit pupils have on ponies, and you plan to reveal them at the perfect moment.
>At the same time as the door squeaks open, you hear a timberwolf howl in the distance.
>Oh mare, this could not be more perfect.
>Luna must be looking over you.
"Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make!"

>Be Anon again.
>You open the door.
>There's a pony in what seems to be a classic Dracula costume with a cape drawn up to her muzzle.
>This is adorable.
>That's weird, those wings look different than those you saw on the local pegasi. Are those part of the costume too?
>A wolf howls in the distance.
"Listen to them. Children of the night. What music they make!"
>A bona fide Bela Lugosi, my god.
>Your heart almost stops from the cuteness.
>The mare chooses this as the moment to swoosh open her cape, and open her eyes.
>Bloody fangs glisten in the dark, and her yellow eyes' irises go from wide-open to lizard-like slits when hit by the light coming from inside your house.
>Man, that's cool.
>Not wanting to be outdone, you raise your bloodied cleaver and give your best guttural, gargling moan of the damned.
>Nothing happens.
>Not even a frightened squeak.
>You're a bit disappointed, you can't lie.
>Wait, why is she not blinking.
>You walk up to the pony and give her a gentle poke.
>She falls over where she stood, stiff as a board.
>Oh boy.
>You've done it now.

>Be Spooky Scary.
>Spookmistress extraordinaire.
>And you just had the scare of your life.
>You haven't felt this scared since you were a little filly out on her first Nightmare Night.
>You can barely remember what it was that actually scared you.
>But it was huge.
>A menacing, looming silhouette raising an obscene instrument of death high in the air, wailing like a tortured windigo.
>The vague memory sends a shiver down to the very core of your being.
>A very warm shiver.
>Wait, that's not right. A shiver is supposed to be cold.
>In fact, you're very warm for what is supposed to be a chilly autumn night.
>And you're... swaying?
>What the buck is going on.
>Oh right, you could just open your eyes and check.
>You mentally facehoof.
>That scare really threw you for a loop.
>You open your eyes an look down.
>You're being carried, apparently.
>In a prince carry, no less.
>Oh buck oh buck oh buck.
>You hope no one's watching, your reputation as a mare's mare is bad enough as it is (non-existent in fact, you're mostly known for playing dress-up way past what would be the socially acceptable age), the last thing you need is more emaresculation.
>You try to wiggle out of the embarrassing embrace. You can walk on your own, thank you very much. You haven't fainted at all, you were just... lost in thought. Yeah, lets go with that.
>In your attempts to struggle out of the grip of whoever is carrying you, you look up.
>A featureless white mask splattered with blood looks at down at you.
>You are in the arms of a hulking, horrendously scarred monstrosity.
>The abomination moves its covered face closer to yours, its rasping breath warm on your face.
>Its eyes, small and beady, look directly into yours.
>You suddenly feel small.
>Very, very small.
>A darkness creeps in from the edges of your field of view, the last thing you see are those strange eyes as your consciousness slips away.

>Be Anon
>Boy, these ponies weigh more than you expected.
>Also, you're out of shape. Your job might be mostly manual labor, but it's more precision work than a real workout.
>Mental note to self: need to get a gym membership or something, carrying this unconscious mare up the stairs of your house has you huffing and puffing and sweating.
>You can barely catch your breath, drawing it in short, raspy gasps.
>Finally, you reach the top of the staircase. You feel your cargo shift in your arms.
>Man, she's wriggling a lot, maybe she regained consciousness.
>You look down. Yeah, she's awake.
>You pull her closer to your face, gotta check if she's all right.
>Your eyes meet, and you try to say something, but you haven't caught your breath yet, so all that comes out is more of those short, wheezing rasps.
>Her eyes look into yours, and then loose focus and cross slightly as she goes limp in your arms, losing consciousness for the second time tonight.
>Oh right, should have taken the mask off.
>At least she didn't go all stiff on you like before, she might actually be easier to carry this way.
>Well, just a few meters more and you can get on with the next step of your master plan.
>Tucking in this pone and waiting patiently on the couch until she wakes up.
>[spoiler]With no survivors.[/spoiler]
>You probably should get this cape off of her first, these ponies don't usually wear clothes, and you don't want her to overheat under the blanket.
>You're not really sure about the nuances of pony physiology, but you prefer to err on the side of caution.
>Off it goes.
>OK, so those wings are not a costume, they seem way too real.
>Bat ponies? Sure, you guess.
>There's bird ponies, horn ponies and... just ponies, so why not bat ponies.
>Not too many of them around though.
>In fact this is the first one you've seen.
>Wait, is that a xylophone made out of bones on her flank?
>These ponies have the weirdest dream job tramp stamps, you swear to god.

>Be Spooky Scary
>Wake up from fainting like a little colt for the second time tonight.
>Buck your life.
>You curl up in a ball of shame and draw the blanket over your head.
>This is not your comfy blanket.
>This is not your beautiful house.
>Where the buck are you?
>OK, brain, slow down there, we can work this out.
>You went to the house of the newcomer minotaur(?) to give him a spooky greeting.
>You got outplayed at your own game.
>You did your best impersonation of Billy the Fainting Goat.
>You were carried inside, woke up and went straight back into the sweet embrace of the dark abyss.
>Wait, he carried you inside?
>You jump out of the bed like an overwound clock spring.
>You're in a stallion's bedroom!
>You were in a stallion's BED!
>Ha! Shows you what you know, dad, how about you go check if Tartarus froze over like you said it would.
>[spoiler]The blankets smelled good.[/spoiler]
>Get yourself together, filly, stop sperging out and thinking about taking those blankets back to your house.
>You're a well adjusted, mature mare that's above such things.
>[spoiler]No, you're not.[/spoiler]
>You're going to go out of this room, go up to the stallion and thank him for actually caring and not leaving your weirdo, scared stiff flank on his footstep like he probably should.
>Then you're going to swap notes, because if he scared YOU unconscious twice, he's obviously doing something right.

>Be Anon.
>Chilling out on your couch, eating a fine-ass pesto and cheese sandwich with extra basil.
>You thought going vegetarian would be more of a hurdle, but damn does cheese make it easier.
>And the cheese here is great. You literally know the name of the cow whose milk it was made from.
>It's Betsy, and she's way more into bingo than would be considered healthy.
>You finish your sandwich and wipe your pesto-covered hands on your apron.
>Fuck, bad habits, gotta stop doing that.
>Great, now your tomato sauce covered apron just got more Italian.
>Mamma mia.
>Well, you weren't going out in it tonight anyway.
>If your costume is going to leave a trail of unconscious ponies in your wake, you're better off going out just dressed as yourself.
>Behold, Anon, the gender-role defying alien from another dimension! That's bound to freak someone out.
>[spoiler]Actually, it still sometimes does.[/spoiler]
>You take the apron off and throw it on the table next to the hockey mask that you took off before eating.
>You can't eat a sandwich through a hockey mask, the holes are too small.
>[spoiler]You know, you tried.[/spoiler]
>You turn around as you hear the clippity-clop of hooves walking down the stairs.
>"Uh, h-hi!"
>Seems that the bat pony returned to the land of the living.
>"I, um, uh... thanksforcarryingmeupstairswhenIfaintedIreallylikedyourcostumeit'ssuperscaryohgodIshouldprobablyshutup."
"Hey, no problem, it's what anyone would have done. And for what it's worth, I really liked your costume too."
>"You did?"
>Did she just blush so hard it showed through her fur AND makeup?
"Yeah, you've got that vampire look down pat, and I always appreciate a good tribute to the classics. Besides, the fake blood you used is miles better than the one I've got, so you obviously know what you're doing. Actually, you hungry? I made sandwiches, so if you want, you can grab some and we'll talk shop."
>Oh no, is she going stiff on you again?
>"Y-yeah, that would be great!"
>Phew

>Be Spooky
>Luna this sandwich is good. It's simple, but it's homemade food, and you haven't had that in a while.
>The single life isn't easy, and you've been relying on takeout a bit too much lately.
>[spoiler]You miiiiiight have gained some weight.[/spoiler]
>You swallow another bite and chuckle to yourself.
>You just met a stallion, and in five minutes you got into his bed, and half an hour later he's making you sandwiches.
>Mom would be proud.
>[spoiler]No she wouldn't.[/spoiler]
>Shut up, you.
>Wait, aren't you forgetting something?
>Oh horsefeathers, he's been talking for the past few minutes and you haven't heard a word of it.
>You're doing it again.
>You get lost in thought way too easily, this has been a problem at work before.
>Maybe you can retrace your steps.
>His name is Anonymous, Anon for short.
>He's not some subspecies of minotaur, he's a human from a place called Earth, and apparently the only one in Equestria.
>He works at a local workshop, mostly doing engravings and detail work on furniture, as well as some general carpentering.
>And he makes a damn good sandwich for a janefilly.
>You were talking about costumes for Nightmare Night.
>Apparently, he got inspiration for his from something he called "movies".
>You're still not too sure about what those are.
>But you both agreed that the costume would be a bit too much for other ponies.
>You don't want a repeat of the time you came up with the Skinless Horse costume.
>That story led into you giving him a recipe for the fake blood you use.
>Which in turn led to asking him about the hockey mask.
>Apparently he made it himself. Makes sense, his muzzle has a pretty unique shape.
>That's actually really cool, you were always good at makeup and costumes, but you suck at props.
>And he thinks you're cool! You already gave him a few pointers on how he could improve his burn scars makeup, and he loved them!
>Oh right, then he started talking about his workshop.
>You can salvage this.

"So, you think we could actually use your workshop tonight?"
>He gives you a puzzled look as you interrupt him.
"Uh, what I mean is, if you have access to the workshop, maybe we can try to put together a... milder costume for you. You still want to go out and participate, right?"
>"Yeah, sure, I work late sometimes, so the owner gave me a spare set of keys. Yeah, that would be great! I kinda gave up on it, to be honest."
>Buck yeah, he agreed!
>Smooooooooooooth. You almost couldn't notice that you desperately wrestled yourself into the conversation mid-sentence.
>"I'll grab the keys and a coat or something. If you're looking for your cape, I put it on the hanger next to the front door."
>Right, time to get going.
>This is gonna be sweeeeeet.
>You'll actually get to share your passion for spooky costumes with somepony!
>You'll make a costume TOGETHER!
>It takes all your self-control to not start trotting in place.
>Wait, did he say something about your cape?
>You don't have your cape on you.
>He undressed you?
>A STALLION UNDRESSED YOU AND PUT YOU IN HIS BED?!?
>Spooky.exe has stopped working.

>Be Anon
>After gently shaking the spaced-out pony back to awareness, you're on your way to the workshop.
>You took off the rest of your costume and makeup and threw on some simple, comfy clothes.
>Spooky, the pony walking next to you is still wearing her costume, but she carefully wiped off the fake blood from her face.
>Now that you have a bit more time to look her over, you can appreciate the costume even more than before.
>She said her cape and brooch are handmade. Or hoofmade would be more accurate, you guess. Pony turns of phrase are something you're still not too confident about using.
>If that's true, she's really skilled. It all looks professionally done, and the corpse makeup she has on couldn't have been easy to get right what with all the fur getting in the way.
>You saw most male ponies use makeup, which felt really weird at first. Well, it still feels weird, and might be part of the reason you don't really get along with them.
>That, and the fact that they always seem to go out their way to try to "Fix your mareish behaviour, or you'll end up an old butler."
>You tried to at least be friends with them, but they seemed to prefer just gossiping about you behind your back after they gave up on converting you to fit their standards.
>The girl ponies NEVER use makeup, or at least will never admit to it. You asking your co-workers about it at the workshop almost ended up causing a fight between two of them.
>One of them suggested that the other let her stallion use shampoo on her mane, which would have earned her a hoof in the snout if the foreman didn't stop them.
>You really don't get it, it sometimes feels like you're stuck in some kind of wacky parody of your world back home, only starring talking equines.
>[spoiler]Now in technicolor![/spoiler]
>So how come Spooky is so good at something that most mares would never admit to even thinking about?
>She seems cool so far, so maybe you'll just ask.

>Better start off with a harmless question first, so you don't (you hate your sense of humour) spook her.
"So, what do you actually do for a living, Spooky? I don't think I ever actually asked you."
>She turns suddenly towards you, as if you startled her.
>A mix of emotions flashes on her face, and you're pretty sure most of those were negative.
>Shit, that was supposed to be just small-talk, and now you feel as if you stepped on the social equivalent of a landmine.
>"Uhhh, I... I..."
>She looks really uncomfortable right now, like she'd rather just run away than answer the question.
>Holy shit, what does this girl do for a living? Is it something bad? What would even be considered "bad" in pony land?
>Wait, she's good at makeup and dressing up, has a shameful job she doesn't want to talk about.
>Is she an H-word?
>Wait how would that even work here? A manhorse? Marehorse? Gigolo? Galiceno?
>Your head hurts.
>And you're pretty sure it's actually gonna be something horribly tame anyway.
>Still, you don't want her freaking out.
>Quick, think of something.
>You look around and, hallelujah, the workshop comes into view.
"Oh, look, we're here! Let's get in, the wind is getting really chilly."
>The look of relief on her face makes the awkwardness of the past few moments pretty much worth it.
>You open the door with your keys and step inside, fumbling for the switch to the lights.
>The things these ponies can do with magic and crystals can be pretty amazing.
>In some ways, they are pretty much as advanced as back on Earth, in others they seem to be centuries behind.
>Usually this backwardness actually turns out to be beneficial.
>The industrial revolution was not kind to human society.
>You finally find and flick the switch, after almost breaking your neck stumbling over something in the dark.
>Now that the gentle, orange glow of the crystals has illuminated the room, you can see that Pine Chisel left her stuff strewn all over the floor by her workbench.
>Again.

>Be Spooky
>The lights in the workshop turn on to reveal a pissed off Anon kicking things under a table, swearing under his breath.
>After the initial shock of your meeting you barely had the time to actually look at him. Half the time you were petrified with fear, the other half you were lost in your own world.
>But now you had some time to compose yourself (not counting the moment he asked you about your work).
>After Anon changed out of his costume, he doesn't seem so intimidating any more.
>The way he towers over you still makes you feel like a foal facing an angry and disappointed mother.
>But there's something comforting about him too.
>The fact that somepony so big can be so casual and friendly just adds to it.
>Maybe you could be actual friends.
>You don't really have too many of those, and they're all mares.
>And most of them you know from work.
>Who are you to push away a potential new friend, just because he looks like he could snap you in two.
>"All right, this is my working space. I can use some of the materials around here, but it's mostly wood and metal. But there's plenty of tools we can use, and plenty of room."
"Yeah, we can work with this. Do you have any ideas for a new costume? You said you got the idea for the first one from movies. Were there any that would be a bit more... tame?"
>"There were all sorts of movies, but the scary ones tended to be pretty intense. Though I guess since we didn't have actual monsters back on Earth, we had to compensate."
>He goes silent for a moment, and suddenly seems sad.
>You think he's saying something to himself, but you can't really hear him.
>For the first time since you saw him, he looks vulnerable.
>And it makes you feel a strange, hollow pain, right in the middle of your chest.
>You don't want him to feel sad.
>It takes your all not to hug him, but you've learned well enough that you don't hug a stallion uninvited.
>Even if you really, really want to.

>But if you can say anything to cheer him up, you sure as Tartarus will.
"Anon, you said you had a Nightmare Night of your own back where you lived, right?"
>He looks at you.
>"Yeah. We called it Halloween."
>Ok, deep breaths, you can do it.
"You see, I love Nightmare Night. I wait for it every year, and every year I spend months thinking about it and preparing for it and making costumes. I spend a lot of bits on it. Way more than I should."
>He looks at you a bit taken aback, but he seems to understand that you're trying to open up to him.
>At least you hope so.
"I love it so much, I even got a job just so I can get the bits for it and get better at making costumes at the same time. Even though everypony I knew said that I am just clinging to a foalhood fascination and refusing to grow up. Even though they said it's not a job for a real mare."
>You remember overhearing your mother talking to your father.
>The disappointment in her voice when she talked about her daughter, the filly that refused to become a mare.
>You can feel tears well up in your eyes, and Anon sees them too.
>But you press on.
"So yeah, I love Nightmare Night. And when I talked with you, I could feel that you love your Nightmare Night too. Your... Halloween."
"I want you to think about that. Think what you loved most about it. Something that represents every good thing about it. The first thing that comes to your mind."
>You can see him smile a bit.
>"Yeah, I think I have an idea for a costume now."
>He walks up to you, while you're trying to compose yourself and hold in your tears.
>He kneels down in front of you, and gives you a great, big hug.
>"Thank you, Spooky."
>It feels so warm.
>Even warmer than when he carried you.
>It's like the warmth can reach the deepest parts of you, right down to your heart.
>You return the hug, as much as you can with him being so much bigger than you.
>You can feel your tears making a big, wet stain on his sweatshirt, but you don't care any more.

>Be Anon
>Getting a pumpkin was easy, the ponies used them in some of their games tonight. 
>They're really good at farming too, so you got a BIG one.
>Carving it was easy too, your tools being easily good enough for the job.
>Besides, you had lots of practice.
>Ever since you were a kid, carving jack-o-lanterns was your favorite part of Halloween.
>It was so weird to you that you didn't see a single carved pumpkin during the preparations earlier this day.
>Spooky looked on with curiosity in her reddened eyes as you worked.
>The poor pony really worked herself up.
>And all for your sake.
>You really appreciate it. For the first time since you came to this world, someone really opened themselves up to you. Actually cared about how you feel, instead of dismissing it as "coltish whimsy" and using it as evidence of your inferiority.
>You're not that good with words, so it's hard for you to really express it to her.
>But she earned herself a friend, and if she ever needs help, you'll be there for her.
>She seemed to like the pumpkin, but when you put a candle inside you could see her expression change.
>It's like you could see yourself on your first Halloween, wide-eyed and filled with wonder.
>Only you think those are actual sparkles in her eyes.
>The next hour was a blur of activity.
>Spooky flew in and out of the workshop window, bringing in bale after bale of material, and finally, huffing and puffing, an obviously heavy sewing machine.
>She took your measurements in ten seconds flat, and threw herself into her work.
>You've never seen anyone work so fast.
>In half an hour she had ready a three piece suit that looked like it had just come out of Tim Burton's personal wardrobe.
>Jet black, with stylishly tattered sleeves and frayed edges that seemed to flow eerily with every move, and barely visible pumpkin orange pinstripes, with an orange tie to complete the ensemble.
>She even managed to get you a pair of dress shoes, though you have no idea how.

>You looked yourself over in the mirror.
>It fit absolutely perfectly, and looked incredibly good.
>The frays and tatters seemed to defy gravity, like they were flowing through water, not air.
"This is amazing, Spooky, how did you even get it to do this."
>The tired, but much happier pony giggled a little in response.
>"When a pony gets to use her special talent, what comes out is as much a product of skill, as it is of magic."
"And your special talent is making clothes?"
>"Only when they're Spooky."
>You cringed a bit at the corny joke, as she gave you a huge grin, fully aware of the pun.
>Though she seemed a bit concerned now.
>"Anon, how are we going to put the pumpkin on your head and still keep it lit up? Your mane is gonna get burned if we use a candle."
>You gave her a grin as big as the one she gave you a moment ago.
"I don't think the owner is gonna miss a few of those crystals that are lighting up the place. Besides, we'll put them back before tomorrow, and no one will even notice."
>She beamed at you and you got back to work together.
>The alterations took only a few minutes, and now you were looking at the mirror once again, your costume now complete.
>Jack Skellington, eat your heart out.

>In the middle of a quiet pony town celebrating Nightmare Night, a door opened suddenly and dramatically.
>A tall, sharply dressed figure with a huge pumpkin for a head strode confidently out.
>Orange light flickered on inside of the pumpkin, lighting up a face with a toothy grin carved into the front of it.
>A bat pony, pale as death, clad in a flowing black robe with a crimson lining, balanced precariously on the creature's shoulder.
>Everypony around stopped, and stared at the pair.
>She opened one of her wings, the movement of air setting all the flowing tatters of the suit into eery, flowing motion.
>"Behold, the Pumpkin King!"

>Be Spooky
>Be walking next to Anon, you're a bit too large to keep standing on his shoulder.
>And it actually feels great that the costume you made gathers oohs and aahs instead of shrieks and questions about the creators tact and sanity.
>It was all thanks to Anon. The carved pumpkin perched on his head right now struck just the right balance between frightening and cool.
>You could easily see pumpkin carvings becoming popular after this Nightmare Night.
>The initial reveal actually gathered a round of applause, and shrieks of delighted fright from a group of foals as Anon chased them around.
>If the pumpkin didn't cover his face, you could swear he had a big goofy smile plastered all over his face.
>And that made you feel happier than ever.
>Not only did your costume win over the town, it actually made someone genuinely happy.
>You wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.
>"So, Spooky, you never actually got around to telling me what you do for a living. Anything that let you learn how to make costumes as good as this has to be worth doing."
>Do you tell him? Will he judge you?
>Everything you know about him tells you he will not.
>Ah, what the buck.
"I actually make costumes for a living. And do make-up, too. Only I do it for theater. Not much demand for Nightmare Night stuff all year long, but there's always some play that needs a wardrobe coordinator."
>He stops and looks down at you.
>"That's a great job. Who the fuck would have a problem with that? Back where I come from, people would gladly fight each other for the same job you do, male or female. Spooky, you're amazing."
>You blush slightly, but smile at the same time.
>You look down at the ground and hoof at the ground awkwardly for a bit.
"You know, the opening night of a new play is coming up pretty soon. I could get you some tickets, if you'd like to see it."

>Be Anon.
>And would have never suspected how much you'd come to care about the pony you met just a few hours ago.
>She's sensitive, she's passionate and she takes so much joy in the things she loves.
>Seeing her work, so focused and skilled, made you appreciate that even more.
>For a moment back there, when thinking about Halloween back home, you hit a dark train of thought.
>Earth had no monsters, so humans had to compensate.
>They created monsters of their own.
>But in most of the stories you knew, the most horrible monsters were humans themselves.
>And that's what you were here. A monster.
>Dropped in the middle of a society, that although weird and annoying in some ways, knew none of the horrors of war, torture and murder that your species was so proficient at.
>A strange monkey man that would never truly be at home here, and you sometimes felt like you deserved that.
>But this pony felt that, noticed your sadness, and opened up to you, even though you could see how hard it was for her.
>Maybe if a pony like her thinks you're worth going through that just to cheer you up...
>Maybe you're too hard on yourself.
>Maybe these ponies, that you kept at arm's length, could be let into your heart.
>Maybe the only thing keeping this place from being home is you.
>You look at Spooky, still anxiously waiting for your answer.
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."