Welcome to Gaia! ::

A few days was plenty of time in which to cool down from the rage fest that Belladonna knew as the spar she had participated in with Mort. A few days was more than enough time in which to send sweet text messages and give the other space and hope that things were starting to get back to normal. A few days was also the perfect amount of time where wounds that had finally scabbed over were prepared to be touched, and thus Belladonna felt herself aptly prepared to see her boilfriend in more than just a friendly, class setting.
She wanted cuddles.
With a skip in her step, and a pretty new dress on (pink and black, extra low cut just because she knew he liked it and packed with petticoats and frills) Belladonna found her way to outside the Reaper dorms before she realized it would be silly to just show up at his room. Huh, whoops!



Ah, that should do. Maybe she should have thrown in a heart or smiley face or--? Nah, that'd be fine. Unwilling to really go any further than was needed, Belladonna located a nearby tree and happily tripped on over to it. With a few minutes on her hands, it was nice to just lean against the tree and relax for a few moments. It was nice out, finally starting to cool down from the summer months and a perfect, cloudy day.

The reply didn't take altogether too long, just long enough that Belladonna had closed her eyes and began to breath in the nice breeze in long, cleansing bouts. Though it wasn't one of his usual replies, Belladonna laughed all the same, thinking it a funny joke, and replied with a quick message saying she was on her way.
A surprise, hmm? Wonder what that could be?
Curiosity hastened her steps and the fact that his grammar was so terrible on made the witch more curious. By the time she flung open the door of the Undead dorm she was practically vibrating with the need to know. Happily she clacked down the stairs and down the hall, her clicks not as loud as she hadn't worn heels, merely a pair of nice boots with the tiniest little kitten heel. Maybe she had discovered she rather liked being a bit shorter than Mort, but whatever the reason, she wasn't at her normal taller height.

With a chirrup of "Hulloooo in there!", Belladonna knocked on the door.Before it opened, she folded her hands behind her back, stuck out her chest and put on her best smile. Quickly, she brushed some curls over one shoulder, considered it and then ran out of time. She placed her hands back where they had previously been and waited.
Things are going to get better. Today is going to be great. Fantastic. Stupendous. Nothing will go wrong!

The bright smile and cheery "Hi!" quickly died on the witch's face the moment the door opened. Not one to let her emotions so easily be displayed so quickly, Belladonna was able to keep it from fully falling so that she only looked a bit surprised.
Something looked so... Strange and different about Mort!
"Hi!" She did finally greet, though it was not so cheery as it had originally been. For a moment she considered it, thought it over fully and finally decided that whatever was different must be the effect of his Knightly Duties. It was most likely temporary, and while not necessarily bad, it was certainly something Belladonna wasn't excessively fond of. But because it was Mort, because it was her very own Death Knight, she let it go and instead settled on a cheeky, "You've done something new with your hair!"
Already letting herself in, the witch stopped at his words and blinked very slowly. That was... That was a full, coherent and not very Mort-like sentence.
Not in the 'He would never say something like that!' manner, as well, it was very well possible. It was just... The structure. It was so... Cohesive!
Strange how suddenly the witch felt a deep pang for his old speech patterns. It had been so charming, it had been so him.

In any event, Belladonna waved a hand at Lanna and whispered a greeting to her. Once inside, the witch would scoop the pup up and give her a few kisses and hugs, but first. The toll.
As calmly as you please, Belladonna stepped forward into the room, stopping as she was only a breath away from Mort. Her hands reached up and spread out onto his chest as she reached up on tip toes and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth.
"Now may I come in?" It was asked sweetly, but not in the altogether sugary way she often affected. It was just asked simply, as a young woman who wants to spend a few precious moments with her boilfriend is want to ask anything of him.
Perfect, perfect, its going to be perfect.
Maybe if she kept repeating it in her head, that weird sense of dread, of something wrong would go away.

His comment was ignored, but the witch certainly grew a little dismayed over his need to keep her from giving her toll. Due to his height, it was made a little more difficult so that Belladonna even managed to jump at one point. A small little huff escaped her, but finally he let her pay. But immediately after that moment, the witch appreciated the playfulness of it all and instead stuck out a tongue at him that she accompanied with a smile.
With a tiny squeak of joy, Belladonna swooped down to scoop up Lanna, pressing a big kiss right between her ears. Well, sort of, what with the horn and all. Due to Lanna's usually excitable manner, Belladonna didn't even notice how agitated and nervous she was. She merely thought it was her natural state of being. So she gave the pup some good scratches and one last kiss before she placed her back on the floor and turned back to Mort.

"Its lovely!" Belladonna enthused, though her heart wasn't in it. No, its terrible. It isn't you at all. Damn Medea and her stupid quest. "The teal is an interesting color... And you look so different with darker hair." As she spoke she had been sidling her way across the room so that now she was right before him. A hand reached up to gingerly brush at his hair and a finger caught a strand that she curled around idly. "The glasses were cute." She added in a softer voice, unwilling to speak of anything else he'd asked. Mort's blue was not boring, this color combination was fine if you liked looking like you'd just visited the tropics and Good Hecate, he's so articulate today! Has he always been like this?
"So what have you been up to today?" That seemed a safe enough question with an equally safe answer. Maybe it would even give her a bit of a clue as to what all was going on. He was being so... Very Un-Mort. It was disheartening, but also very odd.

Maybe he'd watched a few too many action movies, but Belladonna was skeptical about this change. It had to be only temporary, or she'd have to storm the Clans' new home until she found Medea and demanded she make things right.
To hide all these thoughts, the witch offered him a smile and a teeny, tiny bounce. It was just enough to count where it mattered.
Thin fingers wrapped around the front of his shirt as Belladonna tilted her head and gave him her most coy smile.
"You mentioned you had a surprise?"

Without even thinking, the witch opened her mouth and had uttered a small little note that would have quickly grown up into a word had her brain not otherwise kicked in. Thankfully it did and the witch only turned the note into a smile and shrugged as well.
Don't need glasses? Then why in Jack's sake would you wear them? Hecate alive, what is going on?!
But the witch didn't give herself much more time to consider that as the next sentence brought on a new thing she had never even considered.
R-r-r-r-r-roleplay!?
Her cheeks flushed a bright pink and the witch ducked her head so that he wouldn't see. Something told her that this Mort would have capitalized on her blush, made it a bigger deal than her Mort. Which was sad, a sudden difference between today and the usual. But it was only temporary, surely.
In any event, Belladonna totally ignored the roleplay (was he into that? He'd never mentioned it, not really. Not that they had actually even mentioned at anything close to that. There were still so many bases to cover! So many experiences to be had! That was so far away! Gyaaahh!!) comment and eventually settled on a sheepish, "Or I could be the librarian."

Used to appreciative looks, Belladonna had tuned them out and only payed attention to what he was saying. She laughed at the joke, not for one second believing that Mort had been foolish enough to go find a Hunter to fight and definitely not believing that he would have killed one.
A small "oh" was his reply to the sudden chill on her hands, as well as the insinuation.
Somewhere, in the back of Belladonna's mind a little voice shouted that this was wrong. That the last time she had coaxed the boy's shirt off his body it had gone horrible and he'd been embarrassed and she had told him to let her know when it was right. But that small voice was drowned out with a resounding YES as all the pent up frustrations the witch had felt melted away.
No words were spoken, only another coy but eager smile given before the witch made quick work of the buttons. Her fingertips happily brushed the shirt open and off his shoulders, skimming the curve of his arms and chest and--
"Good Jack! Are those... Bullet holes?!" The witch's voice was high pitched, startled as her fingers danced around the little pox marks already starting to heal.

Pink eyes looked up at him suddenly, eyebrows pulled down in concern.
"Mortimer McNeal, did you pick a fight with a Hunter?!" Oh sure, she couldn't fight the good fight because she wasn't chosen. She couldn't wander the school looking for fights because she wasn't marked. But Mr. Cocky and Teal could because he was... What?! Special? Different? Better than her?!
The witch drew in a deep breath to calm herself, splaying her hands out on his chest and letting the coolness of his skin keep her grounded. She was being silly. She needed to get a handle on the situation before she lost control and said something she regretted.
"Is this my surprise? You without a shirt? Its lovely, I must say, but hardly a surprise as I have seen it before." She finally settled on with another deep breath.
Perfect, perfect, perfect, oh jack in the seven hells what is going on!?

Oh you did NOT!
Though she was small, the witch was still able to puff out her chest and stand a little straighter, drawing her spine taut until she stood at her full height. Which, with the addition of her baby heels put her at a whopping 5'2". In any regard, her face was fixed with a look of utter indignation as she whirled toward the boil.
"Walking invitation!? Because yes, I am not a person with feeling but merely a thing to be owned and taken when anyone pleases! My outfit cannot say 'yes' for me and the only invitation would be me saying 'Mort, you're attractive let's have sex!'." Here the witch stopped and flushed an even deeper color. That was never, ever going to be the way she initiated such a thing with the boil. Maybe years and years down the road, when were both so comfortable that--AH! Now she was getting even more flustered! Stop it!
"And it wasn't seduction for that, I just wanted a kiss or two!"
But now that he'd mentioned it, all Belladonna could think of was that. Which was quite disconcerting, because this wasn't Mort. He wasn't like this! But it was him? Hecate, this was so confusing.

As for his sneaky snake arms, the witch wasn't quite up to fighting him just yet, so she let herself be pulled in. For a moment, she thought he'd be nice and try to say something sweet. But he didn't. He didn't even bother to really smile. With a wiggle, Belladonna decided she didn't want to be trapped against him, but it was a decision she had made too late. Unfortunately she'd forgotten that Undead often are blessed with a vice like grip that overpowered the witch's meager strength.
In reply, she frowned up at him and pouted.
"Nope. You'll not force my hand." She'd meant it to sound eloquent and intimidating. Instead, Belladonna was mostly just mortified that she'd used such a lame phrase in the context of... Of... Personal relations.

asdfghjkl;lkjhgfdsa
Though she tried, Belladonna just couldn't think straight. On one hand she was heavily clued into the something wrong as Mort never acted like this, and he never even looked like he did currently. At least, the witch thought he had never looked this way. But on the other hand, her senses were charmed with the roughness. It was what she wanted, and that satisfaction was completely fogging up her otherwise steady gaze.
Maybe she had wanted to fight, but upon receiving the kiss, Belladonna only let out a tiny whimper at the scrape of his teeth but certainly wasn't able to stop her hands as they curled into his hair. Traitor.
When he finally pulled away, the witch began to take a step back, to bring one hand up to her mouth and hope she wasn't bleeding like last time, but had hardly touched fingertip to lip when she was up in the air. Both hands slammed against his shoulders for purchase, but it wasn't needed.
Mort was in full control.

A tiny squeak of misfortune escaped Belladonna as she struggled in his grasp, even bothering for one whole second to kick her feet. But all of it didn't matter. That toothy smile was not Mort! Not like this, not for this situation!
All the bravado leaked from her as she spoke, as she realized the horrid situation she had fallen into.
"E-elsewhere?" The witch asked in a softer voice, confused and altogether too befuddled to properly think that out.
Everything was so wrong, everything was not how she'd planned. What had happened to their perfect day?
It felt like a broken record in her head, but always running in the background was the phrase What is going on?

Hhhgggnnnnn~

If things had been bad before, they had just gotten worse with all this neck kissing. It turned out to be a spot the witch hadn't considered it as being as sensitive as it was, and she had to fight hard not to let all these little noises out. Thankfully his pause at her collar bone gave her time to think.
Not naive, just playing dumb. That small voice of reason retorted, but the rest of her brain was so fuzzy that she couldn't form her mouth around the words to say that. Instead her mouth opened slightly and sucked in a breath, unsure whether to fight some more or not. If she fought, would that spur him on? Or would a well placed kick to the shins grant her freedom?
Still Mort, its still him.
Oh jacking hell, she was right! Even if she fought, she wouldn't want to hurt him because this was temporary. It had to be. Any minute now he'd shift back and apologize and they could cuddle and it'd be alright. She just couldn't hurt him...
Belladonna took another deep breath and angled her head back a little so she could better peer down at him. Why hadn't she noticed the orange in his eyes?
With a small start that began as a weak struggle, the witch realized he'd not once said her name. What if this wasn't her beloved?! Just some strange impersonator? But he looked exactly like him... Ugh, she was so confused and fuzzy and why did this feel so jackdamned goooood?!

"Not like this..." She finally was able to mumble, blinking furiously to try to bring her head back around.
Not like this because its not right and you're not going to force me and it should be about both of us and not like this.
Prepared to fight, her fingers clenched against his shoulders slowly, as she tried to angle herself backwards. Even if he dropped her, it'd be easier to get away. She'd suffer a little pain to make this right.