[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/5CeYBGt.png[/img]
[color=000000][u][b]Location[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Mt. Justice.
💀 Casper’s Room.
💀 Teleporter Room.

[color=000000][u][b]Interactions[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Whoever.
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Gazing upon the ghostly reflection of a peculiar boy on the surface of a polished mirror, Casper’s eyes scrutinized every available venue. Questions circled his mind, the notion of regal formality clashing with a casual approach. Following a slow tilt of his head, Hex gently adjusted the tie around his neck. Was it the right color? White with black stripes, or black with white stripes? Tracing claws against its shape, Casper closed his eyes for a brief moment. The boy quite enjoyed donning different outfits, thoughts of past masquerades coming to mind. 

He missed those days, soft classical music filling marble halls with elegant regalia dotted by intricate masks rightfully dubbed artwork. Festivities of the wealthy, a flamboyant display of riches and fashion entwined, a side of Casper he had not displayed for his newly acquired allies. Perhaps one day he would regale them of waltzes beneath shimmering moonlight. A slowly wagging tail indicated bliss conjured by such thoughts. A nobleman’s dance of pleasure shrouded in the mystery of obfuscation, ornate visages blanketing each attending face. It was what Casper considered a party, what he thought of as gatherings, something quite clearly separating him from modern wealth. Drugs, prostitutes, and costly mistakes. 

Returning to the current issue at hand, Hex’s dilemma remained. He did not know what to wear. In fact, this extended to the boy’s new approach as a whole. Who was he? Who was Hex? “I have an idea,” Coal stated, piercing the silence that had grown thick between the two. 

[color=FFE4C4]”Share with me these thoughts,”[/color] Casper responded, brow rising as he aimed those ghostly spheres at the crow visible upon his mirror. 

“Where’s that leather vest of yours? You know, the gay one,” the avian cawed, pointing a wing at the closet, “put it on top of what you’re wearing.” 

[color=FFE4C4]”The gay one,”[/color] Hex repeated, followed by a slow shake of his head. [color=FFE4C4]”Mother claimed the same,”[/color] he continued, reaching a clawed appendage into the closet before he procured the vest. It was a peculiar thing, one with zippers and a punky touch, something that may have clashed with his otherwise regal attempts. [color=FFE4C4]”It doesn’t.., look horrible,”[/color] Hex offered, donning the vest atop his dress shirt and jeans, witnessing it hugging his spindly, svelte form. 

“Now, roll up your sleeves, put on those gloves, and you’re golden!” Coal finished, indicating the fingerless leather gloves Casper would soon slide over his claws. It was, incidentally, the only type of handwear he could utilize. 

A moment lingered, Hex’s gaze returning to that mirror as he pondered the [url=https://i.imgur.com/IKUHIgr.png]result[/url] of Coal’s suggestions. [color=FFE4C4]”It is.., different,”[/color] Casper offered, arms crossing as his tail swayed in thought. 

“You look great! Stop obsessing over your clothes, geeze,” the spirit rolled its eyes. “The others are waiting for us. Come on, come on!” Small, taloned feet hopped in place before Casper finally conceded. Coal was right, the boy could very well spend an entire afternoon fretting over his attire. It would not come to that, however. Taking a step towards the door, Hex wasted no time in phasing through the obstacle, dark energies dematerializing him before once more shaping the boy into a solid form on the other side. 

[color=FFE4C4]”Where do you reckon we’re headed?”[/color] The Wraithborn asked, a claw rising to call the elevator at hallway’s end.

“Therapy,” came a quick response, “these kids are made of glass. Imagine when you need to actually fight shit.” 

[color=FFE4C4]”Come now, Coal. Don’t be so crude,”[/color] the boy retorted, his converse-clad feet bringing him into the metal box, [color=FFE4C4]”it was you who assured me of their eventual growth,”[/color] Casper reminded, hands moving behind his back as the elevator started towards the lower levels.

“Yes, but that only means that they’re crybabies right [i]now![/i]” Coal pushed as they waited to reach their destination. “If this was the reaction to your initiation, you’d be dead.”

[color=FFE4C4]”I’d be dead.”[/color] Hex displayed a soft smirk, eyes rising to a shifting number over the metallic door. 

“You know what I mean! The not-walking-around type of dead!” A very passionate display, but Casper had a single rebuttal. 

[color=FFE4C4]”We shall revisit this conversation when I embrace flight.”[/color] With that, polished, chrome doors slid open, and Casper joined his team. To him, it mattered little who drove. Hex would remain in the backseat. 

Halting at Daphne’s side, the boy remained silent, tail slowly swaying as he carefully listened to his new comrades.