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Something was making its way towards the Scarentine dance party. Something that no-one should see, experience, or interact with. It was deadly, more so than usually, but with a keen interest to make an acquaintance with everyone in the room. To gaze upon this being was to accept responsibility for it. To question its terrible logic was to open a world of torture. To be apart of its world? Admit defeat right now. Be warned, all be warned of what is to come. The end...

The end is nigh…

"...he...Heehee....heeh *hic* hee, aww...awww come 'ere beaut *hic* iful, i just wanna kiss!...oh...Hahaha its a mirror..."

Floating...barely floating was the ghost of a banshee, slightly discoloured from cider swimming she was slowly making her way towards the cafeteria where music playing softly made it way towards her. Not that she noticed, she had more pressing matter to attend to. "Sarias, Sarias P. Blacksling.” The P stood for nothing, it was just fancy, but saying it over and over again helped her stop seeing double, for a few seconds. Until she burst out gigglingly all over again. She was on a mission though. She was here to reclaim her skull pin. She had it all planed out, she would go to the dance where she suspected Icky to be (since he hadn't shown up when she had yelled his name throughout the monster dorms! Until she was kicked out of course.) and very nicely smash his face in until he gave it to her. Foolproof.

Except she had never realised how difficult it was to open a door, her hand couldn't quite grasp the handle to the cafeteria. “What the...jack....Hey, HEY!” she shouted to the imaginary people not helping her. “Bunch of scrubs, not opening a door for a lady.” With one eye closed and the other focused (sort of) on the door she aimed a hand with such precision, that she missed completely. Lucky for her, well unlucky, she was dead and a ghost. This shouldn't have been too difficult to work out but this momentary lapse of balance allowed her to fall head first into the dance room.

“Owwww...ow... wait...that didnt hurt...pffttt...hahaha...stupid magic door...huh? Hey...hey you! Icky! ICKY!!!”

Stumbled floating (its truly a sight to see!) she made her way over to the boggart and with all the determination a girl in her position could muster she stood, proud, hands on hips.

“I!...have arrived!”

It had been about half an hour since he had arrived, more drunk than he had been in a long while, and a lot of stuff happened. Fortunately, with the cider acting as a buffer, he was left largely unphased and merely watched with his wooden claws hugging his small plastic punch cup. He watched as people danced and busted their rumps, he watched as someone got flung clear across the room, he watched as that little lizard boil careened into the snacks table. The punch bowl went flying -- on him.

That garnered a half attentive giggle.

Then he realized that the little boil was wearing a dress. His lower jaw jutted out as he scrutinized the creature, the gears of his mind clicking very slowly, before his entire face practically fell to the floor. It was a ghoul!

Before he had much time to contemplate how this turned his entire concept of ghouls and boils upside down, a rather loud and familiar voice cackled its way past the music as an equally (or perhaps more so) inebriated individual approached him. This one he had been waiting for and his dark eyes lit up with a slight drunken delay as she called out his name. With a clumsy flourish, she stopped in front of him and announced her arrival, causing his mouth to pull up from a slight pout to a devious and tired grin.

"I see this," he burbled uneasily while using the table as a crutch to get to his feet. He still managed to knock his knees against it and jostle what remained of his snacks but his punch was unharmed. The boggart stood to greet her, though he was unsure if she was qualifying herself as his date or not. Her mood, however intoxicated, was truck fulls more jovial than he had ever seen her. A hand reached into his pocket as he made his way closer and gave the air around her a gentle sniff.

She practically was cider at this point, and her entire body had a slightly yellow tint which made her look like she was in sepia tone. "Screamer," he purred quietly, his weight shifting uneasily as he swayed in place, "I got somethin' fer ye." The hand in his pocket retreated, closed into a fist and held between them. He looked rather smug despite one eye being half closed and as though he might fall over at any moment -- but he was calm. This was certainly a sight to see, in regards to both of them. His grin curled further, nearly touching his ears as he leaned forward so much their noses were practically touching, "But ye gotta close yer eyes a'fore I give it te ye."

Probably not the smartest thing to ask of a drunken banshee but when was Icky intelligent?

Taking the opportunity to lift Tsetsiliya to her feet as the winners were announced, West helped her over to the tables near Holly once again, thankful that everyone in the room was too preoccupied to care. "Yer'okay, right?" he asked, uncomfortable gaze on everything except the poludnica. What had happened to the punch bowl? And who was that drunk ghoul who had just showed up? In a room full of lovey dovey cheese, the bizarre antics of Sarias and Icky hadn't gone unnoticed by the wrath demon. Would there be punching? He hoped there would be punching. Sigh.

Icky stared blankly at her for a moment but then sputtered out a horrid giggle as she addressed herself in, not only the third person, but her entire name. Did her middle name really start with a P? Did she actually have a middle name? Whatever, it didn't matter. He was about to try and convince her to do so regardless when she promptly agreed and he turned his head, leaning closer to as to hear her better amidst the music.

So she wanted more of it, did she?

Well, too bad for her he didn't have any more at the moment. He was bone dry and it would probably be a long while yet before he managed to make-- err -- find some more, especially with the staff becoming increasingly adamant about it. He didn't want to get kicked out of the only place that was putting a roof over his head, but those were worries for another, less drunken time.

"They's th'sneakiest," he slurred in agreement, even giving a firm nod of his head while scanning the crowd. None of them were looking, of course, or they were doing so discreetly. Turning back, he took note of her closed eyes and silence, though that was quickly broken by her garbled speech about not trying anything. She could still make threats, but they were less than intimidating in her current state so he merely let out a short chortle, "Good'n."

Opening his claws revealed the skull pin she had returned to force back from his ownership. He edged closer, their faces just a hair's breath away as his thick wooden fingers hooked through her ghostly tresses and managed to clip into her hair thanks to the powers of the pin. She smelled like dusty old tomes and alcohol, as if she were an old basement that had been used to make the strongest of brews. It was only now that he was really taking note of her natural scent due to their proximity and he lingered with his fingers in her hair and their faces so close just to keep a watch on her closed eyes.

He wanted to.... do something. Wanted to do exactly what she warned him not to do, but he had no idea what exactly he wanted so badly to attempt. That lick during the auction had certainly gotten a rise out of her but he didn't want to be a one trick pony and as long as it took him to think of just what to do the moment had passed and his hands fell away. "Open," he croaked, waiting to see her reaction now that she had her pin back safe and sound.

(( *will edit in* XD ))

Arachne heard, or caught the question from Riley and looked at the dice placed on the table. Maybe this evening's luck wasn't over? She picked them up and with a little flick of her wrist sent them tumbling onto the table.

((Oh figures, the one time I want a dare. Morton, wtf since when are you lucky with dice.))

When Morton straightened up, he took a moment to brush himself off. His clothes looked pretty... all over the place, really, but given the fact he was well aware he wasn't going to manage to make them look any better on his skeletal frame, he barely gave them another thought. Instead, he turned his head to look at Coralie, offering her a small smile, "You already know my weaknesses anyhow. There's no one more suited to exploit them than you and yet... you haven't," he stepped nearer and held out a hand for her to take; he was hardly elegant about it, but he didn't seem to care. He made up for it with obvious enthusiasm, "I think that counts for something."

As the gnomes announced the winners of the dance off, the gargoyle stepped off stage, apparently simply happy to have gotten to dance; it'd been one of the few things he'd known he wanted to do off the bat. Looking at the reaper, Morton winced slightly and then turned to look around, apparently at a loss. Alas, Riley saved him by announcing the game, and he waved his hand in the air, "Oh! There!" he gave Cora's hand a small tug before walking over to take the dice, "I wanna do this!" he took the dice and rolled.

"Lucky... dice?" Malodore gave Riley a sidelong look. It was, it had to admit, vaguely curious what she'd dare it to do if it was unlucky.

Well then. For science!

((Just wanted to formally post that the minipet raffles are open! Anyone who has posted or participated in this event may enter! There's two separate raffles and while you can enter both, keep in mind that you can only win one pet! The Shop Minipet Raffle will be the first rolled for tomorrow afternoon! When those winners have been determined, we will roll for the SE Minipets, donated by some amazing students! I'd like to add a quick note that the SE Minipets are to be assumed to be given in character! Good luck!))