Jo's there on time, wherein early is on time, and has the time to look around and read the sign. The clear message here is that everything that's about to happen, whatever that is, is some elaborately staged show. Jo doesn't know if that's comforting or just so very depressingly everything she expects from the worship of Halloween back home. She's trying to be hopeful. For Nadine and Altair, if no one else.
It's Jo's first time there, and she doesn't have any preconceived notions of it not looking like this every day. While it's nothing like as pee your pants terrifying of half the places she popped into during the Horizon's hiccups, it's definitely got 'authentic Halloween party here' vibes going on. Clawed doors with little kitschy bat handles. The clock countdown from well-hidden speakers while the fog pours in.
The spider, though? Fucking massive and creepy.
Jo has her hand out, palm curved, and her sword almost manifested before she remembers the sign. It's a slow curl of those fingers back, eyes still not leaving the monster shrieking from the roof. A good number of people in the crowd shoulder their way past her as she stares at the thing and has to talk her body into relaxing, into just walking in through those open doors, beneath it. The hallway and the many open doors, several of which Jo can't just walk by, re-evaluate some of her earlier assumptions.
It is like those other places, but as tiny slotted party rooms, designed to be like those other things, but at someone's wish. The play version of actual horrors. Jo needs a drink already.
ɪ. & ɪɪ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀɪɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ
It's Jo's first time there, and she doesn't have any preconceived notions of it not looking like this every day. While it's nothing like as pee your pants terrifying of half the places she popped into during the Horizon's hiccups, it's definitely got 'authentic Halloween party here' vibes going on. Clawed doors with little kitschy bat handles. The clock countdown from well-hidden speakers while the fog pours in.
The spider, though?
Fucking massive and creepy.
Jo has her hand out, palm curved, and her sword almost manifested before she remembers the sign. It's a slow curl of those fingers back, eyes still not leaving the monster shrieking from the roof. A good number of people in the crowd shoulder their way past her as she stares at the thing and has to talk her body into relaxing, into just walking in through those open doors, beneath it. The hallway and the many open doors, several of which Jo can't just walk by, re-evaluate some of her earlier assumptions.
It is like those other places, but as tiny slotted party rooms,
designed to be like those other things, but at someone's wish.
The play version of actual horrors. Jo needs a drink already.