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Mathias was grumpy at her; he was upset - and once again, Hollandaise was not sure where exactly she had gone wrong. Sure, she hadn't asked for permission, but he had clearly liked it, snuggling into even after she had moved her hands away. The fierce flush on her cheeks didn't fade as they moved away from the game tables. Hollandaise mumbled a sorry, and another, but she followed him obediently. Finally, just as they located what appeared top be the food table, she could hold it no longer.

"But, Mathias, you liked it. I don't understand why you're pretending it was a bad thing. I would do it again - you have soft ears." Her teeth flashed whitely as she spoke, her own arms crossing under her bust. The arm-crossing was mainly a reminder to herself - don't reach for the ears. Hollandaise stared at him intently, even as she still kept one eye for a certain set of ghouls.

Jory was grateful that Zaire hadn't pushed further. Honestly, he wasn't entirely sure he couldn't have kept evading an answer if his boilfriend persisted. He had a hard time denying him anything, really. So he showed his appreciation with a squeeze of tanned fingers, a kiss to his cheek, before baby blues went wide at the sight of the giant Tesla coils that stood sentry to either side of the entrance to the dance.

"Wow." They had really gone all out. The whole room looked decked out like a laboratory. His gaze flicked around the room rather distractedly, hand tightening on Zaire's, as they made their way in, but he jumped, utterly startled, as that weak electrical current raced through him. It had been thoroughly unsuspecting, and could anyone really blame him for the squeak of surprise that had followed, or the quick rush forward, dragging the mahamba along with him.

It hadn't hurt, it had just startled him, and he turned a sheepish look up to his date, toes curling against the ground as long ears dipped low. "Sorry." He could task meal on his tongue, it was weird.

Focusing on Zaire's question, rather than his own slightly embarrassing entrance, he looked around the large room until his eyes landed on the drink table. It wasn't food, but it was something. "We could mix drinks, if you want." He looked back up at Zaire, reaching up to run his fingers along a a bit of dark hair that hung in front of one of his ear fins. "Or dance."

Well that was at least good to know. Titus wasn't terribly thrilled about the idea of consuming something, especially something as risky as school event punch. No good could come from it but glancing over he couldn't help but be intrigued by the set up.

"Maybe I'll mix something just for the hell of it." Though Titus had no idea he had to drink whatever he made. Oh well, he would find out soon enough.

After chugging what little of her concoction remained after the spillage, the feline yawned and rubbed her eyes. Jeez, one moment she'd felt fit as a fiddle and the next she just wanted to crawl under the table and take a nap. "Okay." She yawned, rubbing at her eyes and swaying where she stood. "Your turn to pick what we do." Because really she could only do what he was willing to do at this point.

He... Wanted to dance?

Of all times, that just had to be now?

Oh well, there was some saying about gift horses that could be applied to this situation. The feline smiled wearily and held out her hand to him. "Sure. Lets dance." Surely she could keep up. Surely.

Riyo followed Titus in a daze as he yanked her in the direction of the dance floor. Jack, she just couldn't stop yawning. This was ridiculous.

Her sleepy eyes watched the boil as he ever so gracefully busted a move. "Haha, you're good." Regardless of whether the general populace agreed, she thought he was. Riyo had some moves of her own. They went a little something like this.

Mathias was grumpy, but more so than usual as he stomped his booted feet, determinedly moving from the drink table towards where the food table was set up. He did not know if Hollandaise was following him (though he thought that she had better be, considering he had paid for her, after all), and it wasn't until he stopped just short of the table that he turned to face her, arms crossing over his chest once more, her words travelling to his large ears through the loud decibels of music.

"Because, it is not....is not..." He spluttered, face reddening further as he struggled to find the words to use in his upset state, his words coming out with a thicker accent than usual. "Vell, fair for vun. Is never fair. To be....ach, vut is vord?!" He growled, his teeth bared in a snarl. "Is debilitated vord? Just by small touch, just by looking at for too long. Is not fair."

It wasn't quite what he was trying to say, the words to describe his discomfort not coming to him readily enough, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

Junko grinned and turned as he wanted her, leaning back against Seiji and closing her eyes. She tipped her head back, making a happy noise as he kissed her head. "If I'd had more time I could have done something grander~. Maybe there'll another dance later on that I can make something else for." She swayed with him, carefully moving her braid so it was out of the way of being stepped on by anyone around them. "I like your hair tonight," Junko opened an eye to look up at him. She was glad he was growing it out. Everyone would look better if they had more hair.

And then she heard shouting. Very familiar shouting. Junko opened her eyes again and lifted her head to look around until she found the source: Hel.

Hel in.. "...Is that a wedding dress?"

There really were so many familiar and unfamiliar faces all around them. She wanted to dance, she'd mingle later, but seeing creeple she knew was getting Junko excited.