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Charlie's impromptu meeting with the pole made her give a shocked cry, managing to skitter back just far enough to not get stumbled on; she was still pretty captured by the Demon, unable to actually leave him because...well, he still had quite the grip on her. Her expression in reference to all the blood could really only be described as: OAO...There wasn't any other way to explain it. None.

"Ch-charlie, you're...uh..." She gestured to her head, forgetting the word 'blood' for the moment. But before the word could come to her, Charlie was asking her a really weird question. Partner? What. Partner? She stared at him some more, really unable to do much else; the question was too difficult. Abort, Abort!

"F-for what?!" She managed to gasp out, but it was quiet and confused.

Jericho had caught some crazy movements out of the corner of his eyes, but he hadn't paid them much attention. He did, however, managed to catch Chuppi retreating elsewhere. She certainly did not look very happy, though he didn't see the reason why that was.

Looking towards the students she pointed out, he nodded and kept in mind their names and such. The snake did intrigue him, especially since her intelligence was praised.

"That sounds like a great idea to me," he said with furrowed brows. Going off to play some games was considerably more desirable to do here rather than this dancing thing they were doing right now. Most likely the contest wouldn't last for too much longer, so they would be able to stop this pretty soon. At least that was what the dragon hoped.

"At... least we didn't topple over with this I guess," he offered with a bit of an awkward grin, trying to look at the brighter side of this... experience.

Oh boy Christof hurt his head at times, and right now, biting on his tongue, he was rather short tempered. He didn't want to ruin this great moment, but Christof seemed to be missing on enjoying the kiss. "Not make out with anyone. Making out is when you kiss a ghoul a lot. She kissed you. She must like you, or at least wanted to kiss you. That means plenty of things. She's either in the mood to make out, which you should take the opportunity and kiss her as much as you can, or that she really likes you, which also means you can make out with her as much as you want. This is what you want, Christof. Making out leads to messing around – "He paused to look at Christof. "- that means you get to touch her all you want, and then you can take her to your bedroom to have fun. That or a pasture, but there isn't any around here that would give you any decent privacy." That and he didn’t Christof to get caught by Red or Hellma when he was enjoying himself.

"But you just ran out on her, so you should be getting back and locking lips with her again. That or putting on the moves." He went to the table and sat on it, glad it was sturdy and glad for the relief. Ugh, his aching leg. Still, before Christof went to make out until his jaw hurt, he wanted to know something. "So………did you like it? How was it?"

"That's true... I'm quite surprised we lasted this long, actually. Are you sure you don't dance by yourself in the privacy of your room when nobody's looking?" She giggled in a joking manner, feeling a little better as she took a deep breath, smiling as she continued, "You know, this is the first time I'm dancing with someone else and that someone else is not my mother."

Staring at him again, she still felt rather surprised about not being able to remember him from the Christmas raid... Which made her curious about what his real form looked like and if her plushie interpretation was even close. Dragons are big, right? How could she have missed a dragon?

Or maybe being blasted into FEAR particles messed with her memory; some details from that trip were still fuzzy...

Malodore had been on its way over to the food table when... well, its lab assistant's brain had exploded, more or less. The plague doctor had to actually smother a laugh at the expression on Christof's face! Goodness...

Once the spectacle had calmed somewhat, of course, it carefully surveyed the snacks on offer. They seemed a bit fancier than the usual - perhaps the fundraising it had heard of had been very successful? - and more worthy of its rare eating. It balanced a plate on one hand and began to fill it with small pate-topped crackers, things on toothpicks, and other finger-food delights.

When the paper plate was practically groaning under the weight, it threaded its way carefully back through the students watching the dance contest, skirting the dance floor until it was at Riley's side. She seemed distracted - though, then again, so did most students. Apparently it and Junko were far from the last students to topple over on the dance floor!

It lightly tapped Riley on one shoulder, holding up the plate with its other hand. "Canape?"

At the question, Jericho just laughed a little nervously in response. He may have done that... a couple times. But it wasn't anything like this for sure. The dragon didn't want to say it upfront, though.

"I hadn't really danced with anyone else.. ever," he admitted. It was something he generally tried to avoid lest he make a fool of himself. He wouldn't be too surprised if there was someone snickering at some point at them, and if so they were lucky for him to not see them. Otherwise, their chances of getting punched in the face would increase by a considerable integer.

Continuing to move about, he shot a glance over at Riley, wondering when this would end exactly.

The hunchback wobbled, grimacing at the sensation of the grease suddenly slathered onto his lips, the healing power of Hurt's Beesting Lip Balm stinging in his gnarled stich-scarring. He gave a whine, flinching back as he clutched the breath-spray tightly. He glanced at it and then Calder helplessly, most mouth-oriented objects strange and unusual to him. Thankfully there was a picture with directions on the side of it's tiny wrapper that saved him from further embarrassment. He stared at the object, mind whirling over the idea of it all. Him. With her tongue. And his tongue. And possibly TWO tongues. But it wasn't really his tongue. And what would his Master- his REAL Master- His Creator say if he knew he had a tongue at all??

But...

But so far so good, right? Sure it burned and stung and itched a bit, but... but he had so far been able to mostly block it out. And... and honestly the sound of this "Kissing" sounded... sounded...

Well.

It was a means to an end, right? Right. His grip tightened on the breath spray and he nodded to his friend, wishing he had his notebook to write all of this down.

Resolve set, he lifted the spray, trying to discretely aim and push the plunger in the direction of his rancid, rotting mouth. This was promptly followed by a muffled scream as both hands covered tried to stifle the scream from the searing alcohol on a mouth nearly a decade in the dark.

He took a moment to recover. Several moments.

Slightly slower, and mildly freshened, he stormed his way back towards her, expression set with determination.

I'm fine. Don't worry. She lied beautifully. I'm more worried about him, than me, to be quiet honest. She couldn't see Tybalt anymore, when she looked. Her attention then returned to the plate, and she eyed the different specimens inquisitively. Really? How lovely. Let's see.. The tentacle that had snatched one of the little snacks now hovered dangerously over the plate, as if it was searching for something that resembled brain matter. In fact, it was smelling them - and once it had found an acceptable prey, it ducked in and snatched a small brown ball sitting on a cracker up, and it disappeared instantly.

You're right! She closed one eye, as she focused on trying to determine what kind of brain had been mixed in. Ah, but it's one of the organically grown ones from the cafeteria.. still, nice. A little peppery. They add too much spice to these things.

And just like that, all of her woes were forgotten in the wake of sharing a culinary delight with Malodore.