[img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjExNi5hY2FjZWYuUTJ4aGJtTjVJRkJoZEhKcFkycy4x/burn-out-fade-away.regular.webp[/img]
[@FernStone][@silvermist1116]
[code]Halloween Festival - Kid's Section[/code]
[hr]

The [i]rot[/i] in the air had pulled back, to the point he couldn't feel its proximity touching at him. Perhaps it was no coincidence that [i]some[/i] of the raucous across the other side of the festival had died down a little, drowned out by the various speakers and other digital apparatus broadcasting their playlist of modern [i]pop[/i] songs.

It was not to his taste, coming in as a watercolour of lighting, blended words and differing instruments, but he could admit that music was one of the [i]few[/i] things he might still find relatable in this world, that he could still [i]briefly[/i] find a level of inner-balance with when the right track came along. 

It was how he'd [i]centered[/i] himself, once - with the help of a walkman and the cassette left on a fallen oak tree, one tiny little moment of warmth and familiarity out in the wilderness some thousand miles back east. He wasn't sure why he was recalling [i]that[/i] bit of personal history, until he realised someone was talking to [i]him.[/i]

"You look a little lost.” A dull, buzzing noise in his ears, that had manifested as [i]words.[/i] Clancy he ignored it for a moment, thoughts elsewhere. “Is somthing bothering you? Perhaps I can help.”

Clancy pivoted on the spot, ready to tell the [i]next[/i] passer-by to mind their own business, fingers closing beneath the bleached canvas cowl that formed his garb. This time he pivoted, his eyes like dull, flinty chips of ice peering out through the holes he'd cut into the 'hood' of the costume. The passer-by in question, they - to be specific, [i]she[/i] - was the asian woman dressed as a witch, or more specifically, the [i]child's[/i] rendition of a witch, not dissimilar to those he'd seen when he was a little boy.

She was pointing at his outfit. 

“I take it you're a sheet ghost? It looks a little, hmm, like something else. People might take it the wrong way. I’d recommend taking off the hood at least.”

For a moment, it dawned on him to tell the lady to mind her own business, or something [i]else[/i], but at the same moment something unusual had briefly touched against him that he couldn't parse. A strange, almost alien sensation. [i]Warmth?[/i] Lihn's aura had touched at the guarded walls of his inner psyche, like warm oven gloves pressed against frozen metal - that was enough to give him some pause, even if she [i]barely[/i] scratched the surface.

[b]"No,"[/b] he answered, [b]"I'm actually just Pinnochio, can't you tell?"[/b] The dry [i]edge[/i] of sarcasm was present in his tone, but only [i]just[/i] - that momentary warmth sanding it down to a more rounded point. He hadn't caught on to her meaning, wondering if it was just some [i]moral guardian[/i] trying to protect the [i]children[/i] from the scary ghost costume while everyone else around them dressed like it was the monster mash.

[b]"It's just a stupid costume, why do you care?"[/b] 

It wasn't a challenge or an act of aggression, but a [i]genuine[/i] question that had sprung to mind by her [i]well-intentioned[/i] intrusion, only marginally underlined by the irritation he felt with [i]people[/i] in general.