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Left to stand there, all drenched and adding more water with her tears, Belladonna only kept her eyes closed in attempt to stop this silliness. It wouldn't do anything to keep on crying, as her morning was already ruined, so why not just go ahead and try to fix it?
So lost in her own attempt to patch herself back up, Belladonna only opened her eyes after the towel had been dropped onto her shoulders. Glad for something, anything to distract her, she pulled it over her head and obscured her face. It really was silly to cry about something like this, but she just couldn't stop. The night before had been so emotional, all up and down, and while the witch had planned on just sleeping for the rest of the day to deal with it, crying was just as cathartic.
For a few moments more she just let herself dissolve into hysterics, before she finally took a deep breath, rubbed her cheeks with the towel and peeked back up at Mort from under the towel.
"Did you come to me because it was an instinctual thing, or because I'm not Undead?" It was important to keep her voice neutral and vaguely curious, but honestly the witch was interested to see his response. After all, it really did matter to her what he said...

"Oh no! Don't do that! He's so cute... And I'm sure he doesn't mean to catch things on fire..." The growl from Victor caught the witch's attention and she turned around to see the little pup stopped in his progress toward the couple. It hurt her heart to think about this sweet little creature up for adoption simply because Mort was a little worried about burning up. It was a totally legitimate fear, so she didn't fault him of course, but the pup was so cute...
"Let him stay with me for a few days... I'll figure out a spell so he doesn't catch things on fire." Her eyes went wide with pleading as she looked up at Mort. One hand reached out to grab his shirt, but stopped as water dropped off her fingertips. Instead Belladonna took her hand back, and could only give Mort her own puppy eyes without touching him.

'Both' was not the answer the witch had been looking for, but she also hadn't been looking for being the first on his mind. And that was more than adequate enough to keep her from crying any further. Instead, it made her feel a little embarrassed to have reacted in such a dramatic manner. Drama was only fun when there wasn't anything at stake, when things were being too normal. When something was already at a ridiculously heighten state, adding dramatics wasn't always fun.
Surprise colored her face at the brief touch, but it further cheered the witch enough that she finally let a small smile through. This was ridiculous when she stopped to think about it.
With a quick motion the witch flicked her hair over and up into the towel in her hands, wrapping it up so that she essentially sported a black, fluffy turban on her head. She mumbled a small 'thank you' as she took the offered towel, but instead turned and squatted down in front of Victor.

"Don't look so put off. You'll still get plenty of love." Belladonna told the Hint with a tilted smile. The towel was on him in a second, quickly fluffing him up and rubbing off all the excess water. With that all done she placed a tentative kiss on his head and turned to the fire pup. With a quick finger she beckoned him closer before she quickly enveloped him in the towel too.
"He's not trouble. He's just... A little extra work is all!" Belladonna added as she fluffed the pup up, though at any moment she feared he'd burst into flames. Should that happen, she'd likely get burned, but the healing spell had been proven effective so she wasn't so worried.

"Good morning, by the way." Belladonna finally mumbled, quick on her toes to press a kiss to Mort. It was not how she ever wanted to begin her mornings again, but it could go much worse.
At any moment the witch expected Ramona to knock down the door and accuse Belladonna of seducing her son. With a small shock of panic, Belladonna realized how very horrid this situation looked. Quietly she said a prayer that his mother would never hear of this...

The squinty-eyed looked from Victor was replied with the witch's own squinty-eyed look, though a smile had been tacked onto her's. With a swipe of the towel she wiped up the remaining water he'd spilled onto the floor, before she devoted her attention to the little pup. It wasn't his fault he caught fire! It wasn't his fault he adored Mort so thoroughly that he wanted pets. The witch could completely understand the sentiment, and while she wasn't prepared to give the pup a kiss on the head, she did give him a quick squeeze in the fashion of a hug. Then the pup was placed back on the floor and the witch stood up straight.
All the water that had soaked into the floorboards and the rug and the variety of clothing on the floor would surely start to mold sooner or later, and while there were a number of still dry towels about the room... Magic would always be simpler.
The witch heaved a sigh before she herded Mort toward the front of her room, hustled Victor after him and then trudged back to pick up the wolf pup. For a moment she stood there, uncertain where to put him. If he were sat on the bed, he'd likely burn a hole in it. Same for the chair and desk, and there was certainly no way Belladonna could ask Mort to hold him. That only left... Her.

"No wiggling. Or bursting into flames." The witch instructed the pup as she folded him under one arm. Squished right up next to her, he was almost burning, but it would be quick.
With a flick of her hand a small flicker of pink began that swirled up from Belladonna's held out palm. Maybe her magic really was getting stronger, because it was exceptionally easy to maneuver the little gust of wind she produced around the room. Not only that, but it was also strong enough to help dry the water in her room, though it did kick up lighter objects such as papers and the stray article of clothing.
Yet finally, after far too long the witch felt, as she was sure the shirt that separated her skin and the wolf pup was about to burn up, the room was dry. Quick as she could she set the pup back on the floor and pulled the shirt out from her skin, trying to look as though the great warmth didn't bother her one bit.
"Now you don't even have to lift a finger! All done!" Belladonna chimed with a smile.

Now the fatigue set in, the ache in her legs from standing all night returning in full force. Her back hurt, her fingers were singed, her feet felt raw and she had cried. Yes, she was very much tired.
"You can stay as long as you want. You just have to come back to bed." Belladonna told him with a heavy sigh. Now... Where to put the fire pup?
AH. OF COURSE. The witch felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner, but with a skip she darted to a corner of her room and extracted a medium sized cauldron from said corner. With a flourish she dumped the burned shirt into the bottom of it, along with some offendingly yellow pants, before she scooped the pup up and deposited him inside.
"Now you stay there and rest and its ok if you burn those clothes!" For one moment the witch felt truly brilliant, and thus turned a brilliant but tired smile to Mort before she offered him her hand.

"For your room? I don't know if a wind would clean much, but I could try?" The witch offered with a slightly strained smile. Never would she dare say that she didn't like Mort's room. Really, she did! But she also had vowed never to touch another's things unless they specifically asked. A cleaning wind wasn't really all that specific...
In any event Belladonna cast a sympathetic look at the pup, but wasn't able to do much else. The larger cauldron in her closet weighed about the same as she and there was no way she was lugging that thing out for such a small pup.
When the witch looked back up, Mort's smile had faded a little and a stab of dismay pierced the witch.
Hecate damn his mother!

"Oh... Of course!"
No. No no no no!
"If you need to get back to her, go on ahead... I know she came all this way to spend time with you, and I'd hate to steal you away from her for the last few hours..." It was a tough call, but Belladonna would rather be alone than with his mother. Anything but that.
"And you didn't bring me any trouble! Unless that's what you're going to start calling the pup. Besides, I'm glad you can count on me." It was silly, cliche but the witch couldn't stop the hand that reached out to touch his chest. "If you need to get back to her... We can meet up for lunch or something."
As much as the witch hated to continually dredge up unfortunate topics, she needed to tell Mort about the siren at Fright Night. The one he'd willingly given his information to, despite the witch's attempts to circumvent such.
Besides all that, it would give her time to fix her hair (that was still up in the towel, of which she only remembered and slowly pulled down), get dressed and maybe actually catch a few more hours of sleep. Honestly the witch hadn't planned on seeing her zombie until dusk, so the fact that she even got to give him a brief kiss now was more than she could have ever dreamed of. Not getting to see the boil for a few hours more was only what she'd expected.
Briefly the witch marveled at her own growth when it came to Mort, glad she had reached a point where she was secure enough to be away from him. Odd, but a little fluttering in her heart caught her then, and her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit as she realized her own devotion to him.

Clingy was certainly a word that could be applied to the witch, and as she was a great fan of hugs, group induced or otherwise, she would have been satisfied to learn of Mort's increase attachment to being clingy. As she wasn't, the witch could only satisfy herself with his hand in her's, glad that he had become more apt to touch her as well. It was small, but Belladonna had noticed how it seemed easier for him to hold her hand, or brush a curl away from her face, whereas before it had always been her to touch, to initiate contact. Even such a small change comforted her, made a feeling rise in her throat that she bit back for just a little while longer.
"Sounds lovely. I look forward to it."
At the kiss the witch blushed a little, but was quick to dip down into a curtsey. More and more they seemed to enjoy the silly cliches of romantic courting, something Belladonna felt a little ridiculous about enjoying as much as she did.
"Trouble will be just fine. Do not worry about that." Belladonna replied before she pressed a kiss to his cheek, as well as one to the top of Victor's head. With a smile she bid them farewell, sure to look sad to see them go but once the door was shut she rushed back and let the tart treats out of her closet. They all darted back to her bed and the witch was careful to see her cauldron at the foot of her bed, just so Trouble didn't feel left out either.
Sleep came as easy as it had the first time and this time Belladonna reveled in her ability to get a few more hours under her belt. Waking a few hours later, the witch rose feeling much better. Contentedly she sighed as she ushered the little treats back into her closet, as she petted Trouble quite a lot just to let him know he wasn't necessarily what his name foretold.

There was even time to dress and freshen up it seemed, a task the witch took her time in as she still felt weary and worn out. Three days of the same outfit had bored her massively, so with more care she dressed, even veering just the littlest bit into the realm of being extravagant. Not enough to warrant any comments, but enough that the witch felt proud of her fashionable prowess.
Yet the text message she received from Mort put a bit of a damper on all that she did not even bother to stifle the loud groan. But maybe she was just viewing all this wrong! Maybe this would be the day she could convince Ramona that she wasn't a frilly, Victorian hussy! Maybe today the doll would look with kind eyes upon the witch and accept the fact that Belladonna was dating her son. Maybe, but unlikely...

"I am so very, very sorry little darling but I have to leave you not only behind... But put you in the closet too." Belladonna told Trouble with a generous pat to his head, her face scrunched with worry. It was unfortunate that she couldn't leave the little pup in her room, but she knew if she did it would burn down the entire Reaper Dorms. And that was something Belladonna would not have on her conscious. So with a wave of her hands she ushered all the pets into the expanse of her closet where they could romp happily in minipet land before the witch affixed a hat to her hair and click-clacked her way to the Undead dorms.
Uncertain of what Mort's text meant of where she should meet him, she instead decided to wait in the common area. Should Mort and his mother come up the stairs they would find the witch waiting, a mini lace tricorn hat on her head and in a striped dress that ended just underneath her knees. (And of course some poofy sleeves.)
Unsure of what else to do but wait there, Belladonna sent the zombie a text, just in case.



Naturally, she arrived a few minutes early, wanting to present a fresh and excited face to Ms. McNeal. And naturally, she was forced to wait, trapped in the Common Room, trying to look pleasant should she be surprised with their presence. But the more time dragged on, the more Belladonna began to despair.
Perhaps if this were any other person she would be able to stay strong, to nonchalantly wave her hands at them and be on her spooky way. Countless people had expressed their disinterest in the witch's perky ways and it hadn't bothered her one jot. But this was Mort's mother. As much as Belladonna wished it weren't so, her opinion did actually matter for something.
So even though she retained a bemused smile while she stood there, she also didn't find a thing wrong with idly playing on her skellyphone. It was an innocent diversion, one the witch found was suitable for any young ghoul her age to engage in. Hopefully it wouldn't look wrong of her to be amusing herself with the interwebs while she waited, but as the minutes dragged on she began to have second thoughts.
She hates me and she'll make Mort hate me and everyone loves me, so why does SHE hate me? Is it just mothering instincts or is it something else? Maybe I really am bad for him? After all, I'm always getting him into trouble or upset or--
Belladonna let out a little giggle as though she had read something funny, when in reality it was the only way she could keep herself from breaking entirely. If she kept on thinking like she was, she was going to turn tail and run from the Undead and never come out of her room.
And that was a path she'd already been down. Not having found it satisfactory, she instead turned her thoughts to anything else while she waited.

The couch set out for guests had looked particularly comfy, so Belladonna had gratefully taken it while she waited. She had been there long enough to have caught up on quite a lot of social networking and even managed to create three separate To Do lists for herself. Feeling rather accomplished all around, she smiled up at Mort's offered hand and tried not to laugh at his absolutely wretched outfit. But she said nothing, though she promised herself to question him relentlessly about his outfit later on. There might have even been a secret mission to steal his shirt sometime after Ramona was gone and feed it to Trouble.
"Sounds wonderful!" Belladonna chirped as she quickly took his hand and bounced up.
Quick after the doll she followed, trying to keep her hands in place and not fidget. Should she get more nervous than she already was, she'd push her hat around until it fell off, bother the top of her dress or even the bottom until the lace popped off or pester some other part of her clothing and thus ruin it. Normally her clothing could withstand more than frenzied hands, but Belladonna did not trust herself. Not in this situation. It was best to keep her hands neatly off herself in case a bit of wayward nervousness caused a magical spark.

The compliment from Mort caught her off guard enough that she only stared him in a surprised manner, all pretense of being in control gone. She managed a quick 'Thank you' and hadn't even gotten a 'So do you' started before the door was closed and he had moved to the front. Sure to keep her face placid and not petulant for being put in the backseat like a little witchling, Belladonna only situated herself comfortably and stared out the window.
Pumpkin, bah. Anyone else could call me that and I'd love it. The witch couldn't help but think as she gave the older ghoul a small smile.
"Not really? I just ah... I wore such a simple outfit for Fright Night that I wanted to look a bit... Nicer than usual."
Vain, selfish, wretched creature! Set yourself up for that one, you did.
"But thank you." The last part was offered in a softer voice, as though she were a bit more frightened that the comment had not been intended as a compliment. Surely it wasn't, but for whatever reason Belladonna had lost her ability to fake it. Fingers clenched against her palms as she attempted to summon herself forth. This was merely a test, and not even a very difficult one at that.

Why! She'd traversed a pit of lava and acquired Savage's pin! She'd fought legions of JOY creatures (ok not legions) and nearly defeated a Christmas ninja! She'd overcome so much and accomplished so much that a simple luncheon couldn't phase her!
The witch nearly laughed out loud at how ridiculous this was, but instead only continued to stare out the window.
"Did you have a nice Fright Night?" It was an open ended question, asked of both mother and son. The real question though, was who was going to answer first?

Belladonna inserted her own little laughter at the doll's joke, though she didn't find it at all funny. What kind of creature thought herself so high in regard that she'd have "stolen the show" from her son? Even if she was rather pretty, she wasn't going to have completely diminished Mort's chances of being seen simply be her presence and dress.
"I didn't abandon you so much as he swept me off..." Belladonna countered to Mort with a small smile that he couldn't see. The additional part about a fishy pie confused her, but she knew what the original sentence had been chopped off to avoid, so Belladonna only ignored that.
"Sal is exceptionally kind, with excellent taste." She added blithely, though she did not have anything else to add. And she refused to add the additional 'You would adore him!', because not only did Belladonna not know the woman's tastes in people, she hardly felt the proper judge. Once positive she would have been favored by the doll, the witch now second guessed everything about Ramona and instead kept her mouth shut.

Glad her zombie was being relentlessly kind, Belladonna perked up at his comment.
"I found 20! And they all wanted to cuddle this morning." Belladonna happily chirped, before she placed both hands to her cheeks and in her kawaii-est voice cooed, "Desu-Chan's boooooooth~" And it was true. It was the only booth the witch had returned to with any sort of regularity, unless one counted the Tart Booth. "Your booth was a lot of fun, even if Odin was rather difficult to best."
Yes, Belladonna would forever hold a grudge against the machine that had so thoroughly provided her failure. If only she had gotten one good show in, one good win on him, maybe Ramona wouldn't think her 'fragile'.
"How about you? Was any booth your favorite?"
For a moment Belladonna almost asked Ramona if she had a favorite too, but instead she kept quiet and let the question fall where it lay. She was trying, vastly hard at that, and thus far it was going alright... The doll hadn't been overly rude and that was a start, so Belladonna only waited and hoped she could make this right.