Autunno

The air was colder this time of year, the last breezes of warm summer that September had brought around faded away to bring the gusts of chill October usually brought. And with that, came the feeling of fall, that perfect feeling of not too cold and not too hot. To you, fall was sort of the cross between the bearing heat of summer and the harsh cold of winter, a spot where everything seemed to be getting ready to head to sleep for the winter and awaken later in the spring. The leaves changed from their shades of green to more flowing colors of orange, red, and gold, capping beneath the light blue sky before falling away to dance at the heels of passerby and strangers at the behest of that same autumn chill. The birds flying away in black V’s, weaving beside the far-off ovals of airships and the steel monoliths of skyscrapers, department stores, and rail bridges to disappear off the coast to parts far beyond Canopolis. The nights with their mysteriously inviting dark, creating the perfect atmosphere of chill and dark to let you withdraw into your house, wrap up with a nice hot drink and a good heavy blanket, and spend the night basking in the warmth of a cackling fire or a flickering television, or in the depths of a good novella.
For a moment, you really considered how much of Squigly and Leviathan rubbed off on you. They were both all about the vivid and the detailed worlds of nature and scenery, what with them being performers after all, and maybe you felt that you were picking up on that too. Either way, they were right- autumn was a beautiful season, and always seemed to have the coziest- if that was the right word-memories with it.
Speaking of Squigly, you looked up from fixing your heavy coat for what seemed to be the tenth time this past 5 minutes, noticing where you were. Your eyes fell on the heavy iron spires that circled the entrance to what seemed to be a small grassy hillside, a space where the piercing skyscrapers fell away into shadows to let rows of headstones and opulent crypts lay scattered across the leave-strewn cobblestones that criss-crossed through the cemetery. Above you, written in iron letters beneath an elaborate golden design, read New Meridian Memorials.
Yup, this was the place. And, if your watch wasn’t wrong, you were actually early! Maybe they weren’t ready yet, you thought, but seeing as there would be no place to go inside a cemetery, you wouldn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes anyway.
Stepping through the gate, you walked along the maze of gravestones right, left, left again, and finally going all the way to the center of the graveyard, eyeing the little obsidian crypt, just tucked between a small duck pond and a branching pathway which laid to the Canopy’s war memorial. It didn’t seem all too appealing or stood out in anyway- stained glass windows on either side, the solid brass door marking entrance,  although the name however seemed to stand out. In carefully cut letters across the width of the elaborate entrance read the name: “CONTIELLO”. It looked like any normal crypt in the cemetery, really, save for the curious fact that upon closer inspection, there seemed to be black and orange lights carefully strung along the awning above the door, and lights that seemed to flicker on and off on the inside.
Quickly hurrying to the crypt, you look around to see if anyone is in the graveyard with you and, not seeing anyone, you pull open the brass door and slip inside. After all, what would anyone think seeing a young man like yourself hurrying into creepy crypts on Halloween night?

But, for Squigly, the risk didn’t matter, you knew.
Inside the crypt, you noticed the empty altar, lit with a few rather decorative lanterns- and even a jack’o’lantern with what seemed to be an elaborate sketch of a dragon carved into the rind. Rather than the smell of formaldehyde and death you would probably expect in a crypt, you were greeted to the warm aroma of baking apples and cinnamon- your instincts either telling you it was the caretaker trying to keep the crypt from smelling like rot, or someone was baking. And from the idea that you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, you pray it was the second one. On the ground before the altar was a square wooden door, which seemed oddly well maintained compared to the rest of the place, and marked with a heavy brass ring, like a door knocker on those old houses. As if with the air of a cult member performing a secret rite to enter their hidden lair, you take the door knocker, bang it once, then twice, and then finally knock five times on the wood itself.
Squigly and Leviathan taught you that so as to identify who was coming in. They taught it to Filia, to Carol, even to that one guy Big Band that came around every now and then with supplies. So, it felt like an honor, the ability to have their trust enough that would teach you that. It was like being welcomed into a home, and being told you would always be welcomed, that feeling of acceptance.
A moment later, a voice, somewhat muffled behind the door, echoed out to you. It sounded like Leviathan- suave, deep, speaking with that Old World tone of refinement and distinction- although, you could swear it sounded a bit…off, as if he was talking with a lisp.
“Oh!...Uh…come in! Please! We’re down here!’
You open the door, revealing the entrance to the crypt below. Normally, you would think a crypt was full of blackness, the smell of mildew and cobwebs, and rotting wood leading to what could possibly be an unspeakable end of horror and nightmares. But, like everything in the crypt, it was different. Warm lantern light placed on hooks against the dirt walls illuminated the passage down along the swept wooden steps, where you could hear movement downstairs, and smell the aroma of cinnamon even more now, along with what sounded like music playing. Eager to escape the cold, you quickly duck down the steps, shutting and bolting the door shut behind you for safety.
A few moments later, you found yourself in the humble abode of Squigly and Leviathan’s “bunker”-or, more correctly, house. Built into the crypt’s repurposed cellar, the Contiellos had made quite the cozy little home. The tiled walls replaced the cool damp dirt, adding a soft warm white in contrast to the cold grey upstairs. Ornate lanterns hung on the walls, some filled with sticks of burning incense, others with candles illuminated by a flickering purple flame, and surprisingly, a small yet elegant chandelier hung from the roof, casting everything in a refreshing inviting glow. The floor was carpeted, neat and clean like any house, save for a small spot by the stairs where guests were encouraged by both hosts to remove their dirty shoes for the duration of their visit. A big, plush couch, a bit stitched with colored patches, sat in front of the stairs against the wall, covered in plush throw pillows and beautifully woven blankets, a coffee table in front littered with fashion magazines and papers, and a small serving tray of teacups and kettles. In the back, you could see the makeshift kitchen, where Squigly stood hard at work with her back to you, inspecting something in the old fire-lit oven. Leviathan was sitting in the big lounge chair beside what seemed to be a large cast iron fireplace, busily adding bits of purple flame to the roaring fire inside, snapping his fingers to let little tongues of purple leap hungrily at the wood inside. As soon as they saw you coming down the stairs, they smiled- not just polite smiles you would give a stranger, but warm, inviting smiles, as if to show without speaking they were happy you were here. Turning on her heel,  Squigly turned to you with that perfect smile she could give so well, even when stitched it carried such an allure to it that made it impossible to look away from. Her normal clothes, alongside Leviathan’s, were changed to a more casual wear, sweatpants, heavy sweaters-carefully stitched by Squigly herself!- and aprons, covered in stains of flour, as to give some hint what they were working on.
“Oh~! Hello, anon!” Squigly sang, her voice filling the cozy bunker with an even more feeling of comfort and warmth. Her red eye flickered with delight, as a skeleton hand reached to casually sweep back the dark blue bangs of hair that feel over her face, revealing her whole face for a moment, from her blushing rosy cheeks that stained her blue skin to her one missing eye, which did nothing to ruin her glowing smile. “We didn’t expect oh so early! Oh, well, that’s no matter! Leviathan and I were trying out this new recipe for apple dumplings! Care to try one? You must be looking for a way to warm up, seeing how cold it’s getting”