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

Hate group. [i]Hate group?[/i] The words echoed in his mind, along with the second string.

White supremacists. [i]Assholes,[/i] Clancy affirmed himself, and the realisation hit him. [i]What?![/i] He shook it off. He was no [i]asshole[/i] like the bikers and their Nazi friends. One thing he [i]did not[/i] suffer in his presence were bigoted assholes. 


[b]"I don't need help-"[/b]

A pang of... [i]something[/i] irritated him, but he wasn't sure why. An old memory from a while ago, resurfaced, that he quickly pushed back as Lihn pulled out the 'spare' accessory which might've blunted the damaging effect of his costume. 

[b]"Cat ears,"[/b] he echoed, the words joyless and almost disdainful, [b]"Sure, why not?"[/b] That sarcastic edge, once again - but he took the ears without argument, slipping the headband atop his head and over the hood like a crown, so he looked like a perculiar caricature of a cat-ghost, or more accurately - a robed, white cat-boy, missing the tail in either case.

At the least, he could distance himself from the [i]stupid assholes[/i] who wore robes and burned crosses on lawns, the blanks slowly filling in.

[i]Stupid costume.[/i] 

It was too late to seek alternatives now, in any case. He'd figure that out later, and began dwelling on another consideration.

Was he wasting his time here? 

[I]Remember what you...-[/i]

Noise in the background derailed his train of thought.A vaguely familiar voice, the accent [i]distinct[/i] enough that it caught his attention.

"... drop on you...".

Turning away from Lihn, who at this point was probably moreso concerned about the uncharacteristic behaviour of someone she had known for [I]thirty seconds[/I], Clancy verified that the voice belonged to the man he suspected.

[i]Shayton.[/i]

The suit, the white hair, and the distinctly foreign accent, only slightly dulled by time in this country. He was conversing with the [i]other[/i] asian girl, the one who'd been watching a little boy.

[b]"Prepared."[/b] Clancy muttered under the hood, observing the facial paint modeled after the cheetah.

[i]Now or never.[/i]

A combination of restlessness, frustration, and persistence drove him to act. While Lihn tried to offer a helping hand, Clancy broke from their conversation without a word, pacing towards Shayton and his would-be associate, [i]brazenly[/i] cutting into whatever conversation might've sprung up.

[b]"-been looking for you [i]everywhere[/i], don't leave me like that [i]ever again[/i]."[/b]

A robed hand clamped around the sleeve of the man's tailored suit, tightening just enough that pulling away would not be a viable option without tearing [i]something[/i] up. 

The intention was implicit.

[b]"We've got [i]tons[/i] of catching up to do, don't we, Uncle S?"[/b] There was little sarcasm and no bite to the statement. Only a cold determination masquerading as a poorly costumed child.