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I... ah... It is a possibility, Mistress, I could string it up like a flag over the booth if only to warn off any... other... The hunchback trailed off, glancing around his hunch towards the source of the commanding voice.

His eyes widened, still gripping the sack tightly despite Calder's cries and wrenching.

Those... those parts... so lovely... so even... the stitches so neat and pristine... that hair, so radiant like moonlight drifting across a vast, lush graveyard and eyes... eyes like his.

I... Yes... Yes, Mistress... He mumbled distantly into Riley's mind before wrenching the bag free of Calder's grip to hobble uneasily to his recently-enlarged feet. He quickly did a check, coat- mostly glitter free- tie- straight- hair- as good as it was going to get. He couldn't feel the soot on his face or smeared across his collar, but all the same, his mouth twitched into a soft, shy smile, hidden limbs shifting under his coat as he lurched towards Petra, offering out the gnome as though offering a bouquet of flowers.

She may have been dense, but she was certainly not that dense.

The first thing she noticed, after the overwhelming impulse to attack anything that threatened her fiance had ebbed slightly, was that the one holding the bag that held her gnome-boyfriend was, in fact, something akin to herself. She didn't know what it was, exactly, but as reason began to come back to her, along with her observational skills, she noticed that he, too, had been stitched together, his own body parts clearly from different donors. His eyes, too, were much like the ones she had seen in the mirror of the vanity Aria had provided, giving them both another common factor. This alone was enough to make her pause, although not much... at least at first. Not until she was sure Robert was safe, anyway. The second thing she noticed, however, was the way Christof was looking at her with those eyes. For a moment, she thought it was fear that made his eyes widen, and for a second she felt a little satisfied that her first encounter had not resulted in her throwing up (although she wasn't sure undead COULD throw up?) and instead had given her and advantage. But that theory was short lived. Very... very short lived.

Straightening a little as he looked her over, Petra returned Christof's stare, watching him straighten himself up a bit before she blinked slowly at him, the only thing holding back a look of disgust being very very well trained facial muscles. Instead, she merely took the bag that contained Robert, not so much as uttering a thank you before she opened it up, noticing that, unfortunately, he was feet-up. ... typical Robert. Struggling to set him right-side up, she pulled the bag off his head, crouching to look him over to make sure he wasn't dead (oh if he had been HEADS WOULD HAVE ROLLED) before she straightened again, looking Christof over again as if he were a piece of meat or a lab rat.

Perhaps she could learn from him.

"What are you?"

Yes, what. Not who, what. That probably would not earn her any points. In fact, she ignored pretty much everyone else except Christof (and Candace, whom she BARELY recognized, and offered a nod of her head) right up until the point Bul addressed her, and she narrowed her eyes a little, clearly unamused by his 'joke.'

"He's mine," she replied coolly, as if that settled any argument.

The hunchback was... flushing, by the looks of the spreading greens and purples in his array of facial colors, and he fidgeted with his tie a moment as he smiled softly down at her. That voice, that commanding voice... she was certainly no Owned Patchwork, not and sounding like that... it sent shivers up and over and down his crooked spine.

After a moment of quiet internal imagery, he jumped, fumbling instead in his pockets and for a moment Petra was given a glimpse of... was that another arm? Checking his vest pocket before passing as discretely as possible a card into his more human right hand, offering it out to her with a meek sort of grunt, stitched lips still twitching as though he wasn't used to smiling quite so much.

Mistress... Mistress she's beautiful... was the only lingering, floating thought.

The card read thusly:

Calder had been nearly trampled by the eagerness at which Christof pushed past him and Calder was once again reminded of Christof's upgraded bulk and strength. It was a wonder he wasn't shoved OVER the booth, and Calder had to grip the side of the booth to make sure he didn't hit it. Agitated to no ends, his ears went back and his tail violently flicked behind him in annoyance. This was the SECOND time Christof just ignored him, and he was his friend. First for Riley, which wasn't a surprise, but the other time for --................

Calder looked up and it didn't even take him a minute to figure something out. Oh, well, lookie here. Female Patchwork at 6 o'clock. Christof was there in a flash, holding out the bag. The bag CALDER asked for. While he was ALL FOR Christof getting some, Calder had to remind himself that Christof was after Riley too. This boil needed to make up his damn mind, and he hoped it was with this new ghoul instead seeing as she seemed to be availa.........

Okay, not available. Seemed the gnome had a ghoulfriend, yet Christof was still looking happy. Did this boil just not get when ghouls were claimed??? At least Calder picked a boil that didn't have a boilfriend.

He hoped.


OH JACK! He wasn't sure!!!!

Walking around the booth, Calder was at least glad the gnome was not hurt and that meant Cade would be happier, right. "Um, your friend seems okay." He said, moving to stand close beside Cade. "Are you alright?" He reached up, taking a stand of the boils hair and brushing it aside to see Cade's face.

There was a moment where her own fear jolted her body, muscles suddenly locking like a bolt of electricity had run through her as she caught sight of the extra arm, her eyes widening a little too wide, memories of the beach with the shadows that had tried to eat them flooding back. Except that had been fake, and this was real -- this was a real live creature in front of her, and for a second she completely blanched, staring at the arm before she got a hold on herself, barely smoothing her expression over before he looked back at her. Blowing their cover would not be a good thing... but it did help that she likely didn't have full control over her facial muscles either.

Turning back towards the table where she heard the sound that was clearly Robert, Petra used it as an excuse to compose herself, taking a few moments to peer at the gnome for a few minutes, trying to decide if something was truly wrong or not. "Ro--...." she started, pausing mid-word as she realized perhaps he was using a different name, a slightly frustrated look crossing her face, "... Gnome." Now she just sounded demeaning. Great. "Are you alright?" Well... there was an implied 'aside from the fact that you're clearly roadkill,' obviously. He seemed fine, and so she gave him a mildly bewildered look before straightening her dress, turning back to Christof just in time to watch him extend the card, hesitating only a second before she took it, reading it with a mildly puzzled look.

"An Igor."

She looked back up at him, tilting her head slightly to one side, thoughtful but guardedly so.

"Christof."

That was likely his name. She didn't offer her own, but then again, he hadn't asked. It did, however, occur to her that he might not be able to. Narrowing her eyes a little as she eyed the stitches, she took a bold step forward, tilting her head up to stare at them blatantly. At this point, she was relatively confident he wouldn't kill her, but if he did try, she was also relatively confident Cain would help her escape, somehow.

'One should be careful of assumptions.' Came a cold, disinterested voice in her head. Ignoring it, she focused on Christof, intent on at least gathering some information, if nothing else.

"... what's... wrong with your mouth?"

"Hrnnn..." The male patchwork wobbled, before scrambling back to root under the booth table before resurfacing with a small chalkboard triumphantly, limping back to her with an enthusiastic grunt before scribbling out with utmost concentration:

Not Allowed.

He nodded. She was a patchwork, she should understand. Once he was certain she had read it, he quickly wiped it clean again with his sleeve, his mind racing.

Calder had lectured him on this.... right... right, COMPLIMENTS... he had gotten Miss Sarias's number that way, hadn't he? More or less? Mouth contorting like a dancing millipede, he wrote more slowly:

U Have Very
Proportunate
Parts. Stitches
very even.
Do them urslf?

He held the slate up more shyly this time, almost bashfully, one boot that was actually two booths stitched together to encompass his foot digging in the grass.

Gnome Liberators Association? Candace raised a brow and just stared at the freaky spiked lizard thing. Why did gnomes need liberators? Were they..were they slaves? What the hell! But she was glad at least Petra conveniently arrived to stake claim over Robert, watching how the monster thing that had tried to kill Robert seemed to...fawn over her. Now that was interesting! But what was the best? The absolute best?

Robert. Tiny little Robert. Threatening. Freaky Spiked Lizard Thing. That guy had to be, like, four times his size. She wanted to see Robert attack him if only to see him have his a** handed to him. She snorted with laughter and quickly put a hand over her mouth, looking around when she heard Calder address her. "Oh yeah. He seems just fine. I actually kinda want to see him try to take on that guy. Pfftahaha. He's like a small dog." Or a big dog in a small dog's body.

That was a pretty accurate description.

As he touched 'Cade's' hair to move it aside she blinked and lowered her hand, grinning at the kelpie and giving him a nod. She then draped an arm across his shoulders. "Yup, just fine. Thanks for trying to help. You're the best, Calder." She crooned, turning her wrist to reach up and press a thumb against the base of one of Calder's ears, giving it an affectionate little rub. Horses in the ranches back home seemed to enjoy when she did this. How different was a kelpie from a horse. "Are you okay? You looked a bit bothered."