Never let it be said that Carlisle was a procrastinator. He was always on top of things, his schedule neatly organized to make sure he completed all his projects and work in a timely fashion. As such he'd been preparing for Halloween since early September. It was one of the most enjoyable holidays and he would always take time off work to participate without worrying about staying up too late the next day.
After digging through all the options in his spare closet, he managed to cobble together a passable outfit to match
Matheo from the game Potion Permit. Honestly, the cloak he'd found buried under several boxes of random clothing items had been the deciding factor. It just fit the character so well! All it needed were a few additions.
However...he found that his pickiness had made things take far longer than necessary...and as such, he was literally down to the wire to finish his costume. The wig wasn't right, he couldn't get his facial hair to look presentable, and somehow he'd misplaced every single tie that was even remotely a purple shade. At least the contacts he'd ordered were the right orange...
Frustrated beyond belief, Carlisle nipped the thread he'd been using to sew fangs onto the cloak and tied it off. "Beggars can't be choosers," he growled to himself, "and you're LITERALLY going out trick-or-treating in an hour to beg for free candy with your nieces and nephews. They'll love anything you dress up as. And besides, what does it matter if anyone recognizes your costume? Dressing up should be for yourself and yourself alone!"
Feeling a bit better after that little pep-talk Carlisle gave himself a quick shake to get rid of any lingering frustrating and redoubled his costuming efforts. Boots polished, suit primped and pressed, cape whirling about his shoulders, wig expertly combed; everything finally started to fall into place! Finishing things off with an assortment of fake potion bottles, a mortar-and-pestle, and a candlestick (with holder) to carry along with his candy bag, Carlisle set a bowl of treats on his porch for the local trick-or-treater's to take before driving to his sister's house.
The night went quickly after that, the older dog corralling a group of five young pups and kittens as they dashed eagerly through the suburban streets. Despite his rigid personal schedule, Carlisle adored children and often found himself spoiling them...just a little. He indulgently led them to all the best houses (catalogued during past Halloweens) and took pictures of them throughout the night in front of the coolest decorations. As the youngest began to rub their eyes sleepily and trail behind, Carlisle expertly diverted their attention to the final street, informing them all that they'd head home afterwards.
A chorus of tired protests followed, but he held firm. Sure enough the children all scampered off to collect their final treats, the eldest pointing at one of the furthest houses. "Why don't you try one Uncle Carlise?" she grinned, hefting her foam battleaxe over her shoulder. "You deserve some candy too!" Rolling his eyes at the little viking, Carlisle hefted his (empty) treat bag and shrugged.
"Only because you asked me to Livia," he said with a laugh. "Make sure your brother and cousins don't go too far." Straightening his suit and tie, he ran a quick paw through his wig to make sure it was properly styled before walking up to the house's door and giving it a sharp knock. Despite not really being in it for the candy, Carlisle found himself smiling as his cape billowed about his shoulders in the breeze. It had been ages since he'd tried getting anything for himself.
"Trick or treat!"
