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Alex gave the ghoul a large grin. Happy? Of course he was happy! What wasn't there to be happy about in this situation? Sure he had gotten attacked by a land shark several times now but he wouldn't let that spoil the good cheer.

"Yes, very!" He replied, still doing some form of the twist while mopping the floor before stopping and turning to his zombro.

"Can't beat mah cleanin, can't beat mah bakin....what are you good for?" He squinted, "Mabe need to fin' better zombrowife."

Punch was mentioned, again, and while Alexander had no desire to drink any of this so called punch, he did perk up at the thought of adding a little extra 'pep'.

"PUNCH IT IS!" He threw his mop. It landed somewhere. Somebody splashed him with water but he was really so sludge covered now it wasn't going to make much of a difference.

"Onwards!" He began sloshing and squelching his way over to the punch bowl, totally distracted away from cleaning.

It had surprised her, when Freya kissed her cheek in greeting, and Amarus did not entirely know what to do. She just stood there, blinking at the lovely ghoul, and sought out Kettil to try to tell him: "You are disgustingly lucky," mumbling and shaking her head. Her mouth was tilted up into a bit of a smile.

As they left, Amarus offered to Freya: "Would you like me to bring you back some punch? You could come with us, since you aren't cleaning, but I think Kettil would sorely miss you." She smiled, and winked. A very rare gesture which she was trying to master.

After they'd finally left,Amarus walked above the goo, stepping on thin air, her hair still wispy and trailing behind her in pink tendrils. "I believe you also baked a masterful cupcake, Alex; wasn't that you?" she asked, tilting her head so that her bells rang. "I am particularly fond of baking, since Xiu taught me."

She was silent again, blinking sleepily, as she followed the boils to the punch bowl, keeping an eye out for sharks.

Jack-damned sharks.

The second she got to the punch bowl, she drank a cup of the punch, and sighed contentedly. She felt so much better. Just unbelievably better.

"You know what? I am happy to be here, right now, and I don't even care if everything is covered in goo!"

If they made it out of this, he was going to get SO MANY PETTINGS. And possibly hugs.

The poor thing still looked shaken up.
Mayaa gave him a sympathetic pat on the head and ruffled his hair.
They were now landshark victim buddies. FOREVER LANDSHARK VICTIM BUDDIES. Which meant friends for life now, right?

When he asked if she were alright, she only laughed.
"Yes! More than alright now. I'm glad that at least you didn't get eaten."

Then she realized she had forgot to ask his name... again, until he had introduced himself.
This was something she really needed to fix.

"Oh! My name's Mayaa!"
She re-claimed the bucket, and tossed some more water on the floor.
To Shra's question, she only shook her head and laughed.
"I should definitely do that, after we get this pool all clean up!"

Mort was all ready to grab punch when two things happened. One, Freya dumped soapy water on him and his bro. Ewwww. "Heeeeey-"

Two, Kettil called her his ghoufriend.

Drunken Mort took a few seconds to process that, blinking several times as though doing so would change something in his vision. Maybe he'd heard wrong but..."Mrr?" He took back the pad, blearily stared a bit more from under his soaked bangs, and then tilted his head.

"What 'bout Herryk?"

Freya was staring into her cup when she heard that word. Her eyes flickered instantly up to Mort, and the life that flared brightly within them dimmed to barely a flicker. Just the mention of his name made her fingers tighten on the paper cup, liquid jostling and spilling forth from within. It stained her fingers red, but she didn't care. Alex's compliment received a quick look, but she couldn't process it at the moment.

"I guess he didn't tells yeh then." Freya's voice was nothing like the bubbly ghoul that had stood there a moment ago. She sounded cold, distant, and most of all, extremely broken. "Herryk is.. well I don't knows what he is. But he's not my boilfriend anymore. I don't even thinks he ever wants teh sees me again. Gave me back my foxfires and hasn't spoken teh me since." Her hand put down the cup, and she stared at her red fingers. "He's done with me."

It felt extremely painful, speaking about her break up in public. She took a step back, and very seriously considered leaving the premises completely. She didn't want to be here, anymore.

...Oh. He blinked and listened and watched them comfort each other, and all he could think was Oh. Herryk, without foxfires? Without...without the other half of the Nordic sandwich? It wasn't going to hit him really until after the buzz fully wore off, but for now all Mort could feel was a vague sense of sadness. "M'...sorry to hear," he mumbled, looking contrite. It was obviously still a raw nerve to them.

His expression dimming, he gave a small nod and, at Alex's hissing, produced from his coat a bottle half full of what looked like croakacola as the label suggested, but which did not fizz when the cap was unscrewed. "Mrr...Think all've us need some spirit now," he said with a sad sigh as he took a swig and passed it off to his bro. "Want some, you two? Takes the edge off n' makes y'forget."

For a while at least.

Freya felt arms wrap around her, and without looking, she could feel them mold into her body and knew whose they were. Her head leaned against Kettil's shoulder, taking in a deep breath and letting the pain course through her. When he held her, she felt strong enough to let it happen. Without him, she knew she would have bottled up her pain long ago, and harbored all manner of ill will towards Herryk. Now, all she felt was the sadness of something precious lost, tempered by something precious found.

She didn't know what Mort was offering, but it looked less sugary than the punch, and that was enough for her. Her hand reached out for the bottle without answering, and pulled it to her lips, chugging a long drink without thinking about it.

Once it was down her throat, however, she thought about it.

She handed the bottle back to Mort, and her eyes became wary, before she whispered something to Kettil.

Before he could answer, she was swept up in a hug, and she bubbled out a helpless laugh as Amarus clung to her. Her own arms wrapped around Amarus, desperate for the affection. This was what she wanted. This was all she wanted, really. Not the cold, distant looks of the eyes that haunted her even now. She wanted warmth, and love, and friendship.

She felt warmer already.