Fall was beautiful in the ministry. Each tree's leaves turned bright oranges and reds, and each step outside was met with the crunching of leaves underfoot. The air was crisp and there was just enough chill to warrant a sweater or jacket. Omega adored fall; it was his favorite season. It was gorgeous, and he loved Halloween. What he loved most, however, was the pumpkins.

They, like many things on the surface, were strange, and that's just why he liked them. A bright orange fruit that practically had a shell? There was nothing like that in the pit. More than just fascination with its existence, Omega adored the festivities and practices around them. Pumpkin patches were some of his favorite places to be, with sprawling fields of orange and the beautiful trees swaying on either side of them. He love carving pumpkins, too. He himself wasn't the greatest at carving beautiful, intricate designs, but he still loved settling for the basic Jack-o-lantern face.

The two of you had gotten into the old convertible that the ministry had, with its load engine and leather seats, and drove down to a pumpkin patch that Omega had all been begging to go to. He was delighted as you two had stepped in, taking your hand in his own large, calloused grip and leading you to the big ones. "I'll carry them back for us," he had said when you brought up a concern about the weight. "Don't worry. It'll be nothing."

"How does this one look, pulchritudo meus?" He called, lifting up one that was probably the size of your head. "I really like the color. It's very bright orange, isn't it?"