Based on a headcanon I found on tumblr, credit for the idea completely goes bluemandycat. Happy Halloween everyone~
"The night is still and the frost it bites my face
I wear my silence like a mask and murmur like a ghost
Trick or treat, trick or treat, the bitter and the sweet
Trick or treat, trick or treat, the bitter and the sweet"
~Halloween, Siouxsie and the Banshees
Henrietta cradled the blade between her pudgy digits like it was some sort of paint brush. Pete was distracted by the deliberate flick of her wrists and twirls of her fingers. Beside him Michael let out a smokey sigh as he grit his teeth. The constant declarations of "Mint-Berry Crunch!" were rather irksome. He shook his head and continued to paint the question mark on his plain black shirt in white acrylic.
Michael eyed him. "Almost done?"
"Thought we were waiting on Sluter over there," he smirked.
"Claus Sluter is humbled by the comparison," she followed up haughtily.
"Jesus, can we just hurry up and go? I didn't even want to go trick-or-treating."
Henrietta tsked. "Halloween is our sacred holiday dear Firkle. It's like, our duty or shit to celebrate."
"Our honor and privilege." Pete corrected in between drags.
"Not like all the other conformists. We could be in the graveyard right now getting Lewis-Carroll-drunk."
"Pretty sure there's not enough alcohol in the world to get that level of...enlightenment. That was all LSD."
"Aren't you six anyways?"
"Your point?"
"There probably wasn't one."
"Either way let's get going." Pete hastily undid the the buttons of his shirt and threw on the one he had previously been working on, not quite caring that the paint had yet to finish drying. "I want to be back and pass out candy while it's still kind of early."
"Why in the name of Dave Gahan would you want to sit around handing candy to ungrateful cretins?"
"Trust me on this one. It'll be better to leave some antici...pation." Michael merely rolled his eyes in response.
Henrietta sat from her seat, signaling everyone else that the departure time had arrived. She heaved the rotund pumpkin from the messy table top. A witch on a broomstick flying near the moon had been perfectly punctured into it. Henrietta would of course deny taking pride in such skill and thus no one made any effort to express how impressed they were.
Michael wrapped his tattered black cloak over his his usual coat and pulled a top hat over his curls.
"Hyde?"
"Ichabod."
"Nice."
The curly haired boy shrugged. "Not really. Burton really upped his hero status, I forgot he was a total pussy he was in Irving's work. You?"
"It isn't obvious?
Michael snorted. "Very much so, I was referring to your lack effort."
"Exerting energy to be the best dressed? Not quite my style."
"Can't talk weak about attempts without mentioning Firkle." Said boy shot an icy glare towards her. If it weren't for those yellow contacts with slit pupils he would have looked exactly the same as any other day.
"I'm Rosemary's Baby, no need to fuck with a classic."
"Didn't Andy grow up to be a presidential candidate? Shouldn't you be wearing a suit?"
"And on that note, didn't Andy end up not even existing?"
"I refuse to acknowledge the sequel."
Pete couldn't blame Firkle for that one. He liked to pretend Son of Rosemary never happened as well.
"You going to skip actually wearing a costume as well Twerp?" She called to her brother while trying to hold the pumpkin while straightening up her Elvira imitation dress.
"Mint-Berry Crunch needs no costume! For I'm already a true hero of-"
"Put a fucking sock in it!"
She lead the way toward the door. Her dad went off about how ten year old girls wearing dresses with such low necklines was unacceptable and she more or less called him a drunken bastard. Henrietta's mother was far too delighted by her daughter taking her younger "brother" out to trick or treat to offer much of an input.
The younger boys knocked on doors and rang door bells while the rest of the gang stood in the drive ways like any other gaggle of vigilant parents. When the happened upon the house of an oddly cheerful Mr. Garrison passing out candy apples the elder goths eyed it wearily.
"How much are you willing to wager that there are razors in these?" Pete asked while never ounce letting the aforementioned apples wander too far from his line of vision.
"My Skinny Puppy tickets." Henrietta jestered.
"With odds this good I'd probably bet more than one-hundred and four dollars worth of paper." She made a face at Michael's comment.
"This would be a good time to wrap things up. Excuse the pun." Pete nodded at a passing mummy.
"I would call blasphemy on that since it's barely pass eight o'clock, but all things considered..." She slapped the apples from both Firkle and Bradley's' hands and they fell to the pavement with a sticky thud.
Pete sped a head, oddly excited about sitting in Henrietta's living room and passing candy out to brats. Before long, the vamp kids made they're way to the door step. Instead of passing out sweets he handed what he'd been hiding in a bag he arrived with. Wooden stakes. There were no words to describe how satisfied Pete was when the entire entourage left radiating with dejection.
Michael quickly finished robbing both boys and the remnants of the candy bowl of Milky Way Midnight and gestured for the exit. Bradley may have flew off for his home planet but the goths headed to the cemetery. Seances and absinthe awaited them.
"A sweet reminder in the ice-blue nursery
Of a childish murder of hidden luster and she cries
Trick or treat, trick or treat, the bitter and the sweet
Trick or treat, trick or treat, the bitter and the sweet
I wander through your sadness
Gazing at you with scorpion eyes
Halloween, Halloween
Halloween, Halloween
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh"
~Halloween, Siouxsie and the Banshees
So short and rushed .-. October ended up being pretty busy for me, so even though I wanted to do a goth kids Halloween adventure about two weeks ago now I barely started writing this when I got back from taking my siblings trick or treating. This was literally done in an hour :/