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The hunchback shifted uneasily, eyes dropping down to lock on his boots and Mal's hooves, mismatched brows furrowed. How could he explain? "I do ath commanded, thir. I will be a good Igor." But he wasn't, yet. That much was clear to him. "It'th not my plathe to argue anything. Thith wath... an exthperiment, thir. When.. when it's worn out, that'll hawe to be the end of it." He was lucky to have gone this long, after all. Malodore and Riley's concern only made him more anxious to get back to Morrigan... before it was too late.

"Experimentation is always worthy," Malodore acknowledged. "If nothing else, I am sure your singing will be remembered for quite some time..."

It paused for a moment, then leaned in a bit closer, dropping its voice to a quiet murmur. "And, ah... there was one other thing. The other night, with the sugar-sticks in Riley's room - you did an excellent job. Aiding even though it left you in pieces, even though Riley was so angry - you are an eccellente Igor, Christof." There was that firm-but-protective edge in its voice again.

"Now... andare da lei."

"Indeed it does," Malodore said, quietly, releasing Christof's shoulder. "Go get some use out of that tongue of yours before the stitches loose completely."

It still didn't like what it had seen, but... it seemed the irritant would soon be gone. And if the patchwork had the urge to replace it later, well... by then, perhaps Malodore would have learned enough...

It seemed as if Christof had a habit of disappearing for short periods and really, she was pretty much done with the party. Without shoes, she felt awkward and she had a good time. There was no sense dragging it out longer than needed. She decided it was time to head back to her room. She wondered if she would have to walk back through the cafeteria or if she could cut around the outside of the building and find another way in? The last thing she needed was to be stuck behind a locked door so she opted to go back through the cafeteria.

She nearly walked right into Christof as she entered. "Oh, there you are! I.. I think it's time for me to go, Patches. I had a really nice time here with you but my feet are getting cold and I'm a bit worn out. Also, Mimic needs his dinner," she quietly added. She had hoped he would mingle with the other pets and familiars, eat some candy and have a good time but he never left her side. He was probably starving.

She really had no idea what he was trying to say. Athothawhat-a? It was probably not important. "I think I would like that," she smiled at his offer to walk her back. She never had a boil walk her back to her room before. Of course, she had never been on a date before either. Tonight was a lot of firsts for her. First date, first dance, first kiss and now her first walk back with a boil. What did they expect? She really wasn't ready for anything more.

Still, it was nice to have him offer all the same. She had read about that in some of the books she hid under her bed. What had they called it? Chivalry? They said that chivalry died so maybe that was why the undead still had it? Christof had turned out to be a gentleman. "It's been an interesting night. The good kind of interesting." She linked her arm with his and lead him slowly towards the cafeteria exit.

What the hell? He that was known as Christof had a way of weaseling his way back. The b*****d! Mimic bounced behind, eyeing the undead's ankles with yearning. How he loathed the stinky one. Just do something forward, punk. Displease Morrigan. Scare her. Give me any reason to bite your face off.

"i'we... newer been to a p-party before. Um. I don't think that Truth or Dare meeting a few weekth ago countth. It wathn't like thith." He flushed, practically floating along as she tucked her hand around his arm. "I... I think I liked it, though." He shifted, trying desperately to think of what else to say. Well... well... Ghouls liked compliments, right? And... Riley seemed to swoon every time Malodore spoke to her in it's native tongue. He decided to give it a go. Granted, Romanian was not quite as romantic as Italian but... "Er... Um. Ethti foarte draguta. Ai buzthe minunat... proporţionale." He muttered. Alright, it sounded a lot more romantic in his head. But at least he was *trying*, right? It seemed to work for Malodore anyway.


As Christof lead her down the path towards the Demon Dorms, the patchwork hodgepodge of a scareon known as Scruff happily gave a burp. He had eaten his fill of garbage pickings and danced until he finally managed to pry his way out of the globulous oozing feline, and now spotted his Master making his way back with some stranger... that was not the way home! Trotting, it passed by an interesting thing he couldn't quite comprehend. It seemed like a box, it looked like a box, but it did not move like a box- boxes usually didn't move at all. but they did sometimes contain delicious things, and so he was intent on exploring this new found Interesting Thing closer.

Malodore watched Christof go, a thoughtful... lack of expression on its face. After a few moments, it turned its focus back to the dance floor, and to Gargantuan and Riley...

... who looked a bit in need of a rescue. Well. Malodore threaded its way through the students until it reached the dance floor, then tapped the swamp monster on the shoulder. "Ah, I believe the phrase is 'cutting in'?" it said, a little awkwardly.