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"They're just so cute and cuddley!" Belladonna replied, both hands still pressed to her cheeks as she quietly squee'ed over her darling treats' adorableness. But at the mention of Odin she dropped her hands and momentarily had to fight the urge to shout at him. Never would she let her precious babies even close to that wretched machine! If it had done such a number on Belladonna, it would certainly do an even worse job on her cuties. And that simply would not do!
Mostly because the witch had not considered the power of love and hugs.
Yet at Ramona's little mention of a frequented booths Belladonna only smiled. This was a trap, she saw it as plain as her hands in front of her face.
"Oh, Sin's booth! She's so kind and her boilfriend was there to help her run it, though I didn't speak to him. But her little pets are certainly sneaky little things." The witch wrinkled her nose in a cute manner and continued to smile, glad to have won that round.
What did she care if Mort went collecting undergarments at Sin's booth? It wasn't like the garments were Sin's anyways. Her pets were notorious for stealing everyone's and the witch refused to give into the jealously so easily presented to her.

Belladonna was at least cheered by the fun Mort had at Fright Night. Her smile turned more genuine and she wanted to press a hand to his shoulder, to show her happiness at a successful night. But Ramona was there and would give the witch a dirty look, she was sure. Instead the car was parked and Belladonna didn't make a peep about how hungry she was. She was absolutely famished, as she'd hardly had two bites to eat between taking down her booth and now, but it would do no good to show how very hungry she was.
And that was going to be a much harder battle than the one Ramona presented.
With a nod Belladonna slipped from the car, quickly floofed up her petticoat and smiled at Mort.
"All good." She whispered, the only two words she dared speak to him. They were small, hardly anything that spoke any volume on their current situation or her feelings, but they were the best she could do given the small amount of time offered them. They had later that day, so all that was necessary was to make it through the next hour.
Belladonna could do this. She'd suffered worse at the hands of her own sisters, so a luncheon with a vindictive, egotistical mother was nothing!
Hopefully...

The encouraging smile did its job for the moment, though Belladonna was reluctant to keep her hands to herself. They couldn't even hold hands out in public with his mother nearby, could they?! UGH. She'd probably even be sat across the table from him, as though at any moment Ramona believed the witch would rip off her clothing and jump the zombie. It was ridiculous and the witch could already feel herself starting to wear thin.
The smells of the bakery distracted her enough to momentarily forget all that as she stared at the menu, eyebrows puckered just the slightest. Once more, another challenge had been brought to her attention. If she ordered something to satisfy her hunger, it would not only be expensive but it would look awful. Certainly Ramona was one of those women who took a particular interest in the eating habits of others. Especially the ghouls they didn't like.
Belladonna was about to despair forever, to flop upon the floor and weep at her fate when Mort instead interrupted her overly dramatic thoughts.

"So long as you don't recall your wanderings eyes, our first encounter was unusually innocent. And we do all sorts of things. Go on field trips, play Scario Kart, I'm teaching you to waltz and we definitely take Lanna on lots of walks." Belladonna replied in a quiet voice, her head tilted slightly toward him. Now that she had started she could go on for hours about the innocent things they did. But perhaps that was her own ability to lie and deceive shining through. Had she been concerned otherwise, had she had enough room left in her body to feel any other emotions, Belladonna might have been a little ashamed at herself. Here was Mort, this perfectly kind creature who found he could not lie to his own mother to protect himself.
Juxtaposed with this was Belladonna, who could so easily lie it had become second nature. Why tell a truth when the lie sounded better?
It wasn't as though she were hurting anyone, or causing any strife... But she could take those few steps toward that, if she wanted. It would be easy, altogether too easy, which was probably why she hadn't yet.
"Keep calm. This is easy."
Belladonna wanted to ask how he'd lived his entire life without omitting the truth from his mother, but that was not only impossible due to his mother's proximity, but also because it would hurt an awful lot to hear just how good he was. Maybe it was just because the witch grew up with a mother who didn't much care what her daughter did, or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, this situation was getting just a bit too much for the witch to know how to properly handle.

The witch replied to his nod with a nod of her own before she went back to staring at the menu, dismal on the inside. Why was even a cup of soup so expensive? Hecate, this was ridiculous! And everything had meat, maybe suggesting carbs was a bad idea? Inwardly Belladonna stomped her feet in a very adult manner, but she only smiled as she placed her order. A bowl of pumpkin and noddle soup sounded safe! Besides, the witch could do with something warming after such a chilly atmosphere...
Sure to thank the doll in her most grateful of tones for paying for the meal, Belladonna also was very careful as she teetered after Mort, careful not to slosh any of her soup from its yummy smelling bread bowl. It became even more difficult not to spill anything when the seat beside the zombie remained open. For a split second Belladonna almost sat next to Ramona, just to spite her. But then she realized that would be putting the witch far closer to the doll than she wanted. So Belladonna only meekly slid in next to Mort.
Surely, this was a test too. How did the witch eat? Was it polite or did she gobble her food down like the passionate creature she was?
BAH. The little internal monologue that Belladonna had begun in a caricature of Ramona's voice was almost funny enough to speak of, but not funny enough to risk loosing this fight over.

"Actually, nothing else has been happening but the festival! Everyone has been preparing for it for the past week or more, so there haven't been any field trips or anything else of the sort." Belladonna chimed as she delicately swirled her soup around. Then she tried a sip. Hecate alive it was delicious~
But somehow she restricted herself to small, baby sips. It was easily the most difficult thing she'd ever done.
OK, maybe not, but it was still fun to pretend in that moment that nothing was more trying.
Except, now Belladonna was supposed to ask questions... Errrr... Ah... Hm. Certainly she could always ask about fashion, but... Well. She was more multifaceted than just that! She just probably didn't share any interests with Ramona besides fashion. The mutual hope of Mort's well being the only other thing, Belladonna instead stared at her soup and silently begged it for help.
"Festival preparations take quite a lot of time... I know Mort was busy working on his all week."
And ignoring me and oh Hecate I am rambling this is really, really bad.

Polite enough to look interested without having to actually look at the doll, Belladonna continued to slowly sip at her soup. She wanted all of it right now, but the need to be seen in a positive light was enough to continually curb this frustration. Though Mort's lack of contribution to the conversation did make the witch want to throw her hands up. They might have been sharing a bench, but she didn't quite feel that they were a united force just yet. Perhaps in every other matter they were, but for right now Belladonna felt just a little lost at sea.
Yet at the next words Ramona said, the witch paused in her sip to blink at her spoon. Had... Had she really just said that? Sure to keep her face a mix of happily neutral, Belladonna looked at Mort and was further surprised to see him so easily accept this as fact. It wasn't his fault not many people took the prizes, it was mostly because everyone either won a token or did absolutely horrible against Odin...
And then everything got far worse as she kept talking. In a strange moment of clarity Belladonna realized something very, very odd. The brash and abusive way her sisters had treated her had hardened her from the inside out, had made her just as brash as their words. But the way Ramona spoke, in such a sneaky, underhanded way that set herself up on a pedestal...
"I do not think one can rightly call Mort's booth at Fright Night anything close to needing improvement. It did exceptionally well. Quite a lot of the lovely items he made were handed out, but most people were only interested in the tokens. But, nonetheless, he did quite well, indeed. I dare say everyone will be more than happy to have him on Student Council."

Only after she'd closed her mouth had she realized the impropriety of all that. But, for one brief and sharp moment, Belladonna didn't care. Who would want to be cherished by someone so narcissistic and rude and uncaring? Who would want the approval of a mother who took shots at their son, especially one who took to using himself as a punching bag?
Careful not to let any of this show, the witch continued her little nibbles until a question was posed. Pink eyes blinked slowly down at her soup, before slowing rising to look at Ramona's chin.
I have trained my entire life for this and find I am vastly under prepared.
Belladonna clenched her spoon so it wouldn't fall from her hands, took a breath and tried not to let her gaze wander. Should she look at Mort, the doll would know they had gotten somewhere. But if she played wholly innocent, the woman would reject this. All those little peevish glances had not gone unnoticed and despite the fact that the witch's busty nature was purely genetics, she still knew what people thought of her. It would have been silly to pretend that she couldn't possibly conceive of people's opinion of her when she dressed the way she did.
Perhaps it was a trap she had placed for herself, but Belladonna didn't much mind that. It at least always gave her a very good way to surprise people.

With a sudden, nervous laugh Belladonna dropped her gaze and delicately touched one finger to the side of her brow. It was the perfect picture of embarrassment.
"Oh Hecate, I do not... Ah, what I mean to say is--" She cannot know that I know. "Protection charms are not something that are, ah, needed... Not now and not for a while. I, um... Oh, er, well... I am a bit traditional... One might not think it by looking at me, but... I am in favor of waiting." It wasn't a full lie, and it gave just enough that it seemed as though the witch didn't know a thing about any missing bits. Or, if Ramona was dead set on thinking that the witch already knew, it still was a perfectly acceptable reason. So she knew and didn't care because she wanted to wait. Problem solved!
At least, Belladonna could only hope so as her cheeks flushed, partially from real embarrassment and partially from the strain of orchestrating herself so fully. This was becoming far too strenuous a task.

Normally the witch would have shown some manner of concern for Mort over his odd little noises, might have even offered a kind pat on his back. But that smile Ramona had begun, slow and creeping and strange, had the witch all knotted up. She couldn't do anything, just sit there and continue to look embarrassed. What did that smile even mean? Why had it started right as Belladonna had been all brash and brave and spoke up for the zombie?
And since the witch wasn't sure what a normal mother's smile would be, she only felt worse as the doll's deepened into something else she didn't understand.
Chastity is unseemly when one isn't honestly chaste. Belladonna thought absently, her eyes dropped down to the table. A sideways glance was afforded to Mort as he spoke, though for one split second the witch found she could breathe a bit easier at his touch. The witch wanted to offer more words of support, that of course he was going to be on the council! Even if he had been the only secretary running, he would have been elected regardless. But this wasn't the time, nor the place.

Mort's words failed to cheer the witch, and she almost spoke up about it.
They'd only had 1 sign up during the entire three nights, and even that had been a bit forced. Honestly, she had expected more people to turn out for their booth, to at least express interest in the club but almost no one had. Not really, anyways. It was enough that she had gotten rather down about it without verbalizing her thoughts. And as Ramona was speaking and smiling in that scarier-than-thou manner, Belladonna didn't even bother.
"Second, but I am about to move to my third." Belladonna replied blithely, a soft smile on her face. On the inside she felt all jumbled up. This was easier when the conversation wasn't about her, when she could do anything else but speak about herself. It was awkward and scary and she just wanted to be done.
"Well, what would you like to know?"
That was an awful, awful suggestion because it literally left the witch wide open. Ramona could take any shot, ask anything of her because she had followed propriety and dared to open herself up.
With each minute the witch felt herself starting to slip. This was going to go wretchedly and there was nothing she could do to stop it. There was no way she could curb this inevitable crash from happening. A question would be asked she couldn't answer, the doll would win and Belladonna would lose. There was simply no stopping it.

Uncertain of how exactly to react to that particular bit of information, Belladonna only let out a small chuckle. It wasn't very loud, as the witch had instead directed her eyes back to the remnants of her soup. There was just a little left, so she went ahead and sipped the rest of it quickly. Glad to have that done, the witch instead left her face a contented neutral.
Surely Ramona meant 'raging b***h' when she said 'hoodlum'. Most likely she was the girl who made snide remarks about other people, pranked them in awful ways and generally made life horrible for others. But then again, Belladonna might have been feeling particularly upset with the woman and thus thought the worst of her.
Naturally, she shouldn't have let herself get so wound up over all of this, as doing so only left her open to be surprised. When questioned about meeting Mort, the witch had a momentary stab of anger at herself for not realizing anything Ramona was curious over would only be in relation to her son. It was extremely stupid of the witch to consider herself of actual interest to the doll.

But when she took a breath to recall what had happened, to think of a way to put their first meeting, an actual smile touched her lips. It was slow, but Belladonna could not, and actually refused, to pretend she was not particularly fond of that time. That she did not recall this memory fondly, her insides all fuzzy as she remembered it.
"I was chasing one of my treats. He had gotten off his leash and was being pesky and refused to let me catch him. The treat ran right toward Mort and he caught him for me." More or less, that was how it had gone.
It wasn't a bother to be the one doing the talking, to be the one explaining the story. Perhaps being able to show her son in a good light, to let the doll see he was very kind and well adjusted, capable of making friends, then maybe Ramona would at least feel a little kinder toward Belladonna.
"The treat took to him right away. He's normally affectionate, but he climbed right onto Mort's head, easy as you please." Belladonna laughed then, small and softly, but a little lost in the memory. She had been fresh from her exam, excited about life, even if only for a moment. The smile strengthened a little as Belladonna chance a look at Mort, happy that things had turned out so well with him.

"Sir Cuddley Rufflebutt." Belladonna corrected with a slightly embarrassed smile. The name had been a joke, but the treat had responded to it so well that she couldn't help but keep it. "You always seemed to be there when I needed to talk to someone." The witch added with a sheepish gaze at the boil. It wasn't until she realized exactly what she'd said that she instantly doubted saying it, wished she had kept such a comment between the two of them. For so long they'd only interacted with the other, grown so used to being just the two of them, that the fact they weren't alone startled Belladonna.
Thankfully the witch was distracted by Ramona's cooing over her pets and that was something Belladonna could latch onto.
"Batlings are absolutely precious! But nergals can be quite cute too... I'm certain he at least likes nergal treats?" She offered with a small smile and a shrug. This had to go somewhere where she could earn some favor with the doll...

The sudden appearance of the skull didn't really surprise the witch, but she didn't bother hiding her interest as she leaned over to inspect it.
"Some sort of Hazcat?" She offered in a curious voice, though she did not give Ramona the pleasure of a look up to see if she were right or not. Instead the witch leaned back to her normal sitting position, just in time to nearly choke on a laugh.
Animal magnetism?
But what made it worse was now that Belladonna thought about it, it wasn't so much magnetism as random animals' need to attack, cuddle or make life generally awkward for the boy. A hand absently passed in front of her mouth to wipe away the smile that threatened to peek out. It would not do to start spewing all the times Mort was attacked, cuddled or a strange combination of both from various animals. Even the sickeningly doting way Ramona treated Mort couldn't keep her from almost giggling.
Yet just as she was actually considering telling about the birds in Valentine's Town, another question distracted her. And, unfortunately for the witch, it was not a question she was very apt to reply to...
"Ah, no... I do not think I will. Mostly because I am unsure of exactly what I would like to do for a career."
What would Ramona say about being a Trick or Treater? Hell, Belladonna wasn't sure she really wanted to do that anyways, so why mention it?
As for being forced to heal because of Mort... The witch's face took on a pink hint, but she only touched the back of her neck and dropped her face.
"No, not so much Mort. Mostly I've been trying to strengthen myself in battles, and its best to know healing so I'm not always limping around."
That wasn't very close to being true, but Belladonna shrugged lightly as though it were.