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"I can regrow hair or heal injuries, if anyone's interested," they offered, "though it's my first time using magic, so... I'm just not sure how good I'll be at it." They had miraculously escaped unscathed from the rain of molten glass, and was quite grateful for that fact. It did not look pleasant.

The Musician clapped a hand to her cheek where a burning chip of glass had torn a bloody gouge. Staring at the Wolf she raised her hand as though she was going to say something, but only blinked and blinked again before turning it into a helpless shrug.

She was, to put it politely, a mess. She had not dressed with the expectation of encountering fire, molten glass, or punch - her hair was still smoking slightly, her dress was saturated with fruit-smelling punch, and glass had burned a good dozen holes through it. Adding insult to injury, the punch had been strawberry. The Musician was allergic to strawberry.

"Just." She said. "Stop? Please? This was supposed to be a party..."

She also failed to respond to her own fiery issue. (That being her mask.) Finally deeming the door at least acceptable, she passed through it without issue.

Said door was no longer dark; it was made of some light wood or another. You wouldn't be able to tell which one without coming closer.

There was a gust of wind as they circled the room repeatedly, moving quickly enough that they managed to dodge the punch. Thankfully, both the wind and the material managed to put their dress out very quickly, and they stopped approximately where they had been, glaring at the Wolf. When they heard what he said, they sighed, deflating. "It's alright. I'm okay, at least. You, Musician?"

Wolf flash stepped over to the punch. He grabbed the whole bowl, and flash stepped back, dumping it over everyone. "Sorry sorry sorry...was just trying to blunt the sharp edges." He was trying very hard to ignore the fact that he'd been pelted just as much, and that his mask was amplifying every bit of the sensation. "Also...oww."

It also sticks to things and can potentially light them on fire.

What did the Ghast ever do to you, Wolf? Their nice outfit is burning. And it's all your fault. You monster, they're going to be roasted alive, with all the glass that hit them!

The Musician is also on fire. Except it's her hair instead of her clothes. Geez, this is not a good night for this group, is it?

A barrier of fire appeared, trying to melt as much of the glass as possible. Hot was infinitely preferable to sharp.. He extended it a far as he could to try and cover everyone else. Then he lowered his staff and sighed. "That was...surreal. Almost like the painting incident." Then he casually converted the barrier into a fireball, and blasted the remains of the boots.

"The Aspect symbols tried to appear in her eyes, but because she was channeling more than one, I'm guessing they started fighting over which ones got which parts."

She tightened it so much, in fact, that the halberd snapped, becoming a sort of shiny pink stuff that reabsorbed back into her body. Stepping forward, unhindered by the sticky goo, the Hostess picked up Spanky's escape mirror, stepped out of the ring of sludge, placed it face-up on the balcony, and proceeded to stomp on it in her heels until it was very well shattered. After that, she raised her hands and spoke in that sibilant language - a swirly white thing appeared and the shards also lifted. They then coalesced and exploded outwards, peppering everyone on the balcony (Hostess included) with tiny bits of glass. Thankfully, all of them missed people's eyes.

After she was done obliterating that mirror, she turned back to the circle of sludge, waved her right hand, and - oh, look, the sludge is gone, leaving a plain balcony in its wake, save for the boots partially sunk into the flooring where Spanky had been forced to abandon them. No symbol this time, just more strange eye stuff.

Then, without answering Sapphire's questions, she stalked over to the door Spanky had appropriated and began to mess with it, muttering all the while.

"Uh... so... what the hell was that all about?" they asked, slowly flapping down from the safe vantage point they had taken. "Cal, um... your eyes were, for lack of a better description, swirly. Would you mind explaining?"

Attempting to walk a few more times with no success, it pulls a miniaturized cane out of its pocket, which is shaken to full size. The clown plants the end of the cane into the sludge, attempting to dislodge itself, to no avail. "Well, Callie, it seems you've got me in quite a jam, as it were." Its masked expression briefly morphs into one of thought, before returning to a mischievous grin. "But you should really know better than to think that this would hold a clown of my caliber for very long. Ta for now!" Upon concluding, it once more reaches into its pocket and pulls out a miniaturized mirror. With the flick of a wrist, it assumes its full size, which is a rather impressive three-by-three foot square. The creature tosses the mirror into the air and assumes a diver's pose, with the mirror landing face down on top of it with a faint splat! as it strikes the slime, while Spanky disappears into it. Barely a moment later, the door to the Funhouse swings shut of its own accord and shatters into thousands of tiny fragments which are absorbed into the mirrored balcony, the wooden door revealed unchanged in its place.

The Hostess reaches into her own chest and drew out a pink-tinged halberd, which she proceeds to grip in a manner that indicates many hours of practice. The ground around her for several feet becomes slightly sludge-like, though she does not sink - anyone else standing there sinks perhaps an inch or two, and has a bit of trouble trying to pick their feet up.

Those able to see her eyes might notice that said eyes are no longer green; instead, they seem to be swirling with pink, black, bright blue, and a significantly too-dark green. None of the colors are actually mixing, either. How peculiar.

((Oh, and yes, the colors are actually moving. Have fun thinking about how that looks.))

"Oh, you are such a joy to bother, Callie dear!" it said, continuing to laugh. "Besides, the prizes I give would make all this so much more interesting, wouldn't you say? After all, there's nothing boring about the power to reshape reality!" It then looked at the Ghast, strode over, and claimed a mouthful of cake as its own. Which it then promptly ate, not bothering to remove its moving mask.

amusement. They kept a safe distance from the proceedings, but still, it was rather funny to see their Hostess so worked up.

"All of them, Dicebag! And don't call me Callie, this is a masquerade. I have a mask on. My identity is concealed. You can't prove I am who you say I am."

The Hostess then promptly realized what Spanky was doing. The crackling of the air intensified and spread outwards a little, and her eyes went... strange. If the Hostess had been unhappy before, she was clearly angry now.

"Why Callie, dear!" it exclaims, returning to its cheery persona. "I was wondering where you'd gotten to! Can't go abandoning your own party, naughty." It rolls off of the piano to stand in front of the Hostess, and lightly swats at her masked nose. "As for why I'm here, well, your parties are always so lovely, I couldn't stay away! Besides, what party isn't better with a clown, especially one with a funhouse as fun as mine!"

Completely ignoring Time, she strode forward and up the stairs, moving purposefully towards Spanky. When she reached him, she spoke in a cold, hard tone - "Why have you broken my party, Clown?" Her body language spoke volumes of hostility; the air around her seemed to crackle faintly.

The Hostess was not happy.

"Alas! The curious cat indeed met misfortune, though how was she to know the shark was hungry?" The clown exclaimed, hamming for all it was worth. "And woe is Spanky that he cannot float! Climb walls, yes; walk within the mirrors, yes; bend reality itself to his will, yes! But floating yet eludes him!" A single tear begins to form in the eye of its mask. "Oh, if only Spanky could award brave party goers with fabulous prizes! That would make him truly happy, yes! But alas! He cannot, unless they can make it through his funhouse. But they do not, and so Spanky must consign himself to be a sad clown, with a sad piano, and a sad funhouse, and a sad funhouse is no fun at all!" As if to confirm that the funhouse itself was sad, the jaunting tune began to warp and slow until it jangled discordantly, and the brightly painted walls began to gray.

"Okay, so you clearly made some terrible mistake that's going to have far-reaching negative consequences for all of us. You might as well tell us now so we can work together to fix the problem, rather than keeping it secret as long as possible in such manner that makes things worse and harder to fix later, only to reveal the actual problem at the last possible dramatic moment. Agreed?"

"As close as I've been able to piece together from the last time he came in, though, he just wants to have fun." She rolled her eyes. "He thinks that messing with me and my guests is fun. I should never have giv--"

The Hostess froze. Her eyes widened. If she hadn't been trying to hide her pause, she would have clamped a hand over her mouth. "--given him the time of day when he first popped up."

He tapped the cane on the floor. "Well, you got killed, we formed a team for exploring, opened a door, and murder fog appeared. We broke it and closed the door again, then your mesages started showing up. And finally the clown showed up." He crossed his arms. "Still not sure I get what his deal is."

"Now, then - what have I missed in my absence?"

"He gave it to me, though..." After a moment, he relented. "Alright, I'll pass it back to him once he heads over here."

"I'm glad you're interested, Wolf. But if you could give the Ghast their Rogue card back, that would be appreciated."

"Like the mystery of where you got these cards." He reached into his hammerspace and pulled out the witch card. "I am intereted/worried about using these. Should be fun."