Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Ding.
There is a soft patter of steps as a British Shorthair walks over, leaping onto a desk; eyes hovering over a smartphone as it presses its paw against the screen.
"You have mail, Master," a deep voice emanating from the feline states.
A whirr of mechanical noise stirs from the opposite side of the room as a speaker crackles to life.
A synthetic monotone voice replies, "Is it important? Robotics isn't easy, and I'm already doing it hands-free."
Looking over at the source of the voice, the cat licks its paw. "It is an invitation to the festivities of Hollow's Eve for the site."
"That's not impor-"
"It's mandatory, for you at least. You must, if I may be so bold as to quote: 'Get out of your cave and show yourself amongst the living as physically as possible. You're not a damn specter so stop haunting your lab. Bring some body; and by this I mean one with yourself in it.'"
A moment of silence passes.
"But I'm still working on them. It's just a skeletal frame at this point. Barely put together, basic electronics and stuff put in. No reinforcements, no features, no actual body."
Static crackles over the speakers as the lights flicker.
Bright feline eyes stare forth throughout the flickering. "Do not worry, Master. It will be perfect for the occasion. You are supposed to be spooky, as I am told."

Some might complain about working on the holidays; missing the staff parties or their own plans.
Not Frank. Everyone's off doing their own thing, just peace and quiet. Oh, not to mention the free food. They feel so bad about the unfortunate few that have to work through the holidays; always food from any of the site parties brought down to you as thanks, and holiday treats.
Easy guard shift. Just him, the cameras, and free food. The occasional staff coming and going but nothing major. Sometimes one has to sit back and enjoy the good times in this line of work after all.
Click. Clack. The whirring of pistons in motion echoes down the hall.
"That's odd…"
The keyboard clacks as the camera feeds focus to that of the hallway outside the security checkpoint.
"What in the…"

A robotic skeleton with a messenger bag slung over its shoulder, cat head leaning out of it, walks down the hallway, holding what appears to be a Foundation-issued ID in its hand.
Coming to a stop and slowly turning to face the bullet proof glass of the desk, hand outstretched holding an ID card, a monotone voice emerges from within.
"Hey Frank. How's your night going?" says the skeleton, the lenses in its robotic eyes focusing on the Site Guard in front of it. "Not at the party either, huh? I feel that. They told me I had to go socialize in the fl- in the physicality as it were."
The robotic arm moves slowly forward, its hand placing down the ID card, a single finger laboriously pushing it forward.
Looking down at the card in trepidation. "There's no… There's uh no photo."
Gazing into him unblinkingly. "Sorry, I don't really have a," it gestures with overdrawn and unrefined motions, "much of a set appearance anymore. Just a spirit in a skeleton, you know?"
Reaching for a nearby radio, as it clackers on. "Checkpoint twenty to Sec-Command. Got a," he lowers his voice as he leans into the radio, "got a fuckin' terminator here at my desk, trying to head up. No, uh, verifiable photo ID. Name is Jasper Coldsmith, attached to a uh, SCP-7963."
Moments pass as both stare at one another without moving before a response comes forth from the radio.
"Hey Frank, How's the ghost shift treating yah? Heh. Jasper you say? Tell him to head on up, he's supposed to be up here. Almost got ordered to go drag him out of his lab, good timing. Take it easy, Frank."
Still perturbed, Frank slowly moves the card back out of the slot.
"Well… you heard em. Head on up."
Retrieving the card, a cacophony of mechanical noise erupts as it moves steadily towards the elevator. Turning forward, the messenger bag faces the security checkpoint, a cat staring out.
The cat opens its maw, "Happy Hollow's Eve, Guard Frank."

Sounds of a mechanical clanking and whirring fill the empty halls, emphasizing the eerie dead silence of the site, save for the ghostly whirring of the air systems breathing into the underground complex.
"Being the being that I am now, am I allowed to be freaked out by the empty halls devoid of life on Halloween?"
Leaning out of the messenger bag, the cat paws up at the robot. "Stop worrying. Knowing you I'm sure the room full of people will be worse."
Stopping for a second, the robot's shoulders creak as they lower. "Did you have to put it that way?"

A set of double doors are opened partially several times before something eases its way through it into the main site cafeteria.
People are gathered throughout the room, some in work attire, others in a variety of costumes for the occasion. Food, candy and drinks are layed out on the tables with Halloween-themed music floating throughout the air.
The odd disturbance at the door causes several to look its way in time to see some sort of metallic skeleton-like figure trip through them, with a cat leaping out of its bag onto a nearby seat.
Steadying itself and straightening up, it looks around. "Oh no, I've had this exact dream before, but I'm even more naked somehow."
Several party-goers, some a bit more into their cup than others, head over, greeting Jasper and his feline companion.
"Jasper!"
"You made it."
"Nice Entrance, drink much already?"
"Hey Bob, you up for cards?"
Jasper along with researchers Romeo and Kaelin meander over to a table closer to the center of the room, and the festivities. Now sitting down, the conversation shifts to discussion about Jasper's project and how the body building was going.
Meanwhile, Bob, the British Shorthair, has been dealt into a game of cards on the other side of the room.
"You want a drink, Jasp?"
"A Drink, Romeo? What do you think man?"
"Gotcha, wait here: I'll go grab something good."
"What? Wait, that was a n- and he's already gone."

The evening continues on as a metal hand methodically raps its fingers against the table, leaning into it.
"At least I got idling fidgeting down again. Good," Jasper tones out.
"Come on Jasp, yuh you gotta have fun. I know it's a w-ourk function but you guh-tta relax," mutters out a drunken researcher Romeo, now laying face down on the table.
"You're just here to drink, then drank drinks you wanted me to try somehow."
"Yeah, you're not looking good there," Kaelin adds in. "You need help back to the dorms?"
"Nah I'll… I'll just sleep here. No party like a Foundation pahhrty. It's fiiine," Romeo slogs on.
Kaelin glares at him before arching an eyebrow to Jasper.
"He's from Site 19," a monotone reply springs forth.
Meanwhile, several people throw their hand of cards onto the table they're at in dismay.
"Alright, I think you've all had enough tonight, Gentlemen. Both of alcohol and loss," informs a feline voice as it paws in its winnings closer to itself. "Besides, I don't believe any of you have much left to wager."
"How'd a cat beat us… it can't even hold the cards," one goes, swishing around the remains of their drink.
"Hey Bob, come on. Cat to man here, all in good fun… can I have my car keys back?" they ask, smiling nervously and while reaching towards a pair of keys.
"This is why I prefer dogs… Crow's shit at poker."

A ringing in his head, he coughs through a dry throat.
"Uauagh… what… where…" mutters the awakened researcher Romeo, now under the table in the main site cafeteria still.
"OW!" he erupts as he bangs his head into said table.
Looking up from the floor he spots a skeleton of sorts, with fake eyes, staring back at him, watching his movements.
"Oh god whatthefuck!!"
"Good morning, Romeo, oh Romeo," intones the skeleton as it slides over a pitcher of water across the table.
"Wha? Jasper, is that you? What happened last night?" Romeo groggily asks as he starts to drink from the pitcher.
"Oh you know. Halloween, costumes, candy. You drank for both of us, I guess."
Robotic fingers rap-tap-tap against the table. "And I decided to wait around while you and…" it gestures broadly around, "some others like you slept it off. I can say I was out of my lab then."
Placing the pitcher down, now empty of its contents. "Hey uh, aren't you magic too? In general?" he says as he waves his hands around. "You got some sort of hangover cure spell?"
"I can think of a few."
"Can… Can you use one on me?"
"No."