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Why was Taryn being so mean? He took a quavering sip of punch in hopes for that burst of courage that he knew was there - hoped was there . . . He hadn't meant to - if she'd stope giving him that glare, he could try asking again -

And then things started to turn a little greenish. How nice. It made her smoke puff look all the more like it was from a drug, and it made Herryk's eyes look sea green - Wait, Herryk?

For a moment the zomboil looked relieved; here was his bro to give him some helpful hints on how to best approach an angry ghoul (as he was sure the draugr had had to deal with when having Freya as a ghoulfriend). Instead, what he got was a lecture on how much better Herryk was, how Herryk's pecs were the size of Mort's face, how he had the best ghoul friend in the world, how confident and taller he was -

And the more Herryk talked, the harder Mortimer gripped his cup. He already knew these things, why did Herryk have to go and rub it in his face . . . "Not everyone muscle head," he retorted bitterly, shuffling from leg to leg as his gaze fell to both Taryn and Herryk's feet. "Can't get ghoul friend, can't even get friend friend to dance with . . . M'just stupid zombie."

Oh yes, passive aggression was on.

This ghoul needed to take some deep breaths, that was what Sura thought. Just watching Anna was making Sura tired, and she half debated going to find a corner to curl up and take a nap in. It seemed like a flawless plan, especially when the reaper began to hurl things.

Namely food. As much as Sura liked food, she didn't particularly like it being thrown at her, eyes fading quickly between blue to red then back to blue again, even as she was hit by some of it, ears flicking back for the first sign of irritation she'd shown the entire evening (Titus would have been jealous, she was sure).

"I will leave you, then." Sura reneged calmly, yawning, her entire mouth (this included along the neck) stretching open as she toddled off to go find a place to curl up (this ended up being underneath a table) to doze for a while.

She'd miss out on the food fight.

Riley clutched on Malodore's coat when it tried to pick her up, letting out a tiny squeak before she realized she wasn't actually being moved anywhere. She looked up at the plague doctor, and managed a feeble expression of gratitude. Thank you for trying, mia cara. I don't want to go out there anyway, it's too late. They've begun to return. For all we know, the room is now filled with them. The plague of the Student Council. The bane of our existence.

She bent in, very close, brushing her face against the side of Malodore's, as if she was whispering to it. The thought was a whisper, indeed - one filled with fear and loathing.

The Pink Elephants have returned.

Everything in the room seemed to take on a more intense purple hue, and Herryk's chest seemed to puff out even further.

"Feel Herryk's muscles, does Mort not see how big and ripply they are? Go on, squeeze them. Herryk has a very specific routine but Herryk cannot give away these secrets," he boomed, offering an arm to the ghoul that Mort had been speaking with before he'd strolled up to them.

"Mort should also stop feeling so sorry for himself," Herryk ordered abruptly. "Does Mort think that Herryk wooed Freya by walking around with terrible posture and crying all of the time about how horrible he is? No!" Herryk moved into another flexing pose, muscles bulging as he shifted.

"Herryk is amazing, and Mort could be amazing too if he took Herryk's advice."

Were this any other day, Taryn may have burst into tears and run for the bathroom to hide. Instead, she puffed her chest out and prodded Herryk hard in the chest.

"You shut up!" Nobody made fun of her friends. Nobody. She knew what teasing was like, and it wasn't nice. Mort seemed especially upset, blinking a bit hard, and jabbed her finger into Herryk's ample pecs again. "Mort's a better person than you'll ever be! Mort plays games! and he... he doesn't make fun of people for no reason! So he wins!"

So there!

Jealousy, cowardice, bitterness - they welled in his chest like an emotional missile ready to fire. What he hated most was that everything Herryk said was right, one way or another. Why couldn't be as confident, as tall, as bulging as the draugr? No matter how he tried to practice or work out, he was still skin and bones, literally! He knew so many ghouls and not one of them had asked him out, and not one of them he'd had the courage to.

Giving into that all-encompassing envy, Mort swallowed down what was left of his semi-crushed cup . . . and immediately felt a wave of calming, almost soporific lucidity wash over him. Everything was alternating blues and purples and greens and hints of yellow, but most predominantly the former - Herryk seemed to be blending in, and Taryn was seeming to stand out.

". . . Know what? You're right." He tilted his head up to view Herryk eye-to-eye, albeit with his own looking a shade more tired. "Herryk is awesome. Freya is a good ghoulfriend, and you're both lucky to have each other. Maybe if I focused on bettering myself, I'll find someone as beautiful and charming."

The completeness of his sentences was definitely out of the norm - maybe the punch had fiddled with his neural circuitry so that he wasn't so fried? Or maybe it was magic.

Taryn still was rather angry, and he knew that if this continued further it would probably erupt into a fight - Herryk was one to resort to physical solutions since he was good with them. "It's okay," he told her, laying his free hand on her shoulder to gently, firmly, pull her back. "Really. Thanks for the compliments, though. Don't fight him, this isn't the place or time."

Malodore's eyes narrowed dramatically behind the lenses. "I shall protect you, my lady," it said solemnly, bowing its head and taking its hat off. It nuzzled the top of her head before putting the hat on over her tentacles and rising to its feet, though it had to pause and untangle its sleeves before straightening entirely. It gave her a cheerful salute, then turned and stepped over the remains of the door.

"ATTENTION, PINK ELE-"

And then some stray flying food hit it in the beak.

It turned around and came back.

"Mia cara, it is worse than we feared!"

Oh dear sweet Jack, what was happening to the room?? Had everybody lost their minds? Had they spiked the punch with insanity?

WHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE!

Shehk made a high pitched noise even in her attempts to remain planted where she was rather than be dragged out into the room, grabbing at Jericho's sleeve with her free hand while she tried to literally backpedal out of the room to go back into hiding, her eyes wide.

"Jericho..Jerichojerichojericho....." she repeated his name desperately, ears flattening back, the teary eyed look coming back. "Jericholook...."