Welcome to Gaia! ::

The little moment they had shared had soured quickly, as well as slightly soured the witch. Would it always be like this, this strange awkwardness where they enacted the other's actions but refused to acknowledge their feelings for the other? Or was it simply because his mother was here?
Regardless of that, Belladonna gave a hesitant smile about being right. Hazcats were fairly cute on their own, and as someone fond of cats she was inclined to like them. But, she also knew Mort's track record with felines and didn't at all fault him for not particularly caring for them, given their often cold (or violent!) reactions to him. Naturally Belladonna would never try to push him into liking something he didn't want to like, but it wouldn't do any good to mention that now.
Still, at the idea of 'keeping an open mind to the possibilities', Belladonna tried not to frown. Hopefully that wasn't a shot at her, but with a heightened sense to jabs made at the witch, she wasn't going to count it as a compliment. Inclined to believe it was about her, Belladonna only looked down at her hands before Ramona suggested they leave.

Totally careless of how unladylike it might seem, Belladonna scrambled out of the booth, not so much in haste as it was simply difficult to maneuver with such a large petticoat. Once out she quickly put a fluff on her skirt before she took a few more steps backwards to allow room for Mort.
She wanted to say something, anything to let the doll know that she wasn't whatever it was that Ramona thought of her. But no words came out, or even came to her mind. All Belladonna could think of was how she wished she could kill the woman with kindness, say something so sickeningly sweet that she would drop all pretenses of anger and distrust and just accept the younger ghoul. But, much like Ramona, the witch only wanted it for Mort's sake.
Instead, she settled on a soft, "Thank you for lunch. It was delicious." It was a paltry offering, but the best the witch could think of.
She cast an uncertain look to Mort, and tried not to appear as though she were still frightened of being tormented further.

A smile was offered to Ramona then, small, but still there. But the witch quickly lagged behind, more than ready to be out from under that scrutinizing gaze. The chill touch on her arm was such a sudden comfort that she almost reached for Mort's hand, but she only smiled at him too. There was little she could do without actually replying to him, so she only skipped speaking altogether and dutifully followed them to the car. There was still this car ride left to take, along with whatever goodbyes the doll felt it necessary to bestow. This was most likely to incorporate some sort of honey-coated complaint over Mort's general failings (of which Belladonna somehow missed previous to this encounter, though she did still find them totally nonexistent) as well as thinly veiled insults hurled at the witch.
But then again, perhaps Belladonna was being overly critical. At this point she simply could not tell. So instead she only carefully packed herself into the car and waited to be returned back to Amityville.

The question of being a Trick or Treater startled the witch enough into blurting out: "Yes, actually!" There was far too enthusiasm in her little admission and she suddenly felt vulnerable in this want. "I did not really find very much interest in the Human World, but I think I would like it. Working with all sorts of people and traveling sounds like fun. I am good with people." Good enough to convince them to do the things she wanted, which was fairly close to a ToT'ers actual job.
The comment from Mort made Belladonna laugh, a true laugh and she was about to excitedly tell him how fantastic that would be when Ramona pressed on. Belladonna didn't really have a reply to this that didn't involve a small amount of protest. Already she'd told the woman she wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life, so how could she possibly find a mentor with similar career interests if she didn't know what those were?
Yet the conversation turned suddenly, and the witch was surprised by Mort's answer. Surprised in the most positive sense of the word. They truly were opposites, as Belladonna would most likely create the troubles Mort would have to straighten up should they both achieve their intended goals.
Belladonna almost even mentioned this, had opened her mouth to chirp happily when she snapped it shut at Ramona's words and Mort's less than appropriate response.

"I think its an excellent idea! It might be a lot of work, but it'll be good work, work that will be worth it in the end. And the Boogiemen always need someone with an inventor's mind! It takes all types and I think it'd be perfect for you!" She chimed in suddenly, unable to stop herself or even consider the possibility that this could be a bad idea. Glad she caught herself then, Belladonna only turned and looked out the window and steeled herself against what would come next.
There was so much time left for them it was ridiculous. There was absolutely no reason to rush, not now and not anytime soon. Besides, to the witch, Mort had already gone through massive amounts more than his mother ever had or would and was therefore more of an adult than she. To Belladonna, this doll was just a little girl belittling her classmates to make herself feel important, special. It was something the witch knew altogether too well, as it was something she'd grown up seeing her eldest sister enact.
And it was something she'd learn to fight, and for once she could actually be the one to protect Mort, however small it might be.

The way Mort actually responded to the witch's suggestion, the way he made it seem like an actual possibility made Belladonna sit up a bit straighter. The little smile that had faded returned and she almost piped up once more. But just like all the multitude of times before, the doll spoke first and made her pause. This time though, Belladonna shrank back into her seat and didn't dare offer anymore encouragement. This was a battle she was going to lose, simply because of her lack of status. 'Mother' ranked far higher than 'ghoulfriend of only a few months'.
It was downright hurtful the way she was shooting him down, cruel enough that Belladonna felt the sting of her words. This was the purest form of psychological torture, and it wasn't fair that these words affected the witch's relationship with Mort. Because he was used to being rejected in his wishes, there was no drive to even bother with them. No wonder it felt like pulling teeth every time Belladonna tried to push him into asking for something; He'd always been denied his wants, so why bother?

Glad for the safe and welcoming buildings of Amityville, Belladonna remained quiet for the remainder of the ride. She didn't even laugh at Gregory's mess, only crawled from the car and hung back on the grass. Anywhere but near that awful woman. With a small smile she curtsied at Ramona with a soft, "Indeed. Have a nice day, Ms. McNeal."
With that small smile still firmly in place, Belladonna watched the car drive off, and waited until Mort let out his breath before she finally chanced a look at him. And when he said 'bracing', she sucked in a breath.
She quickly let that breath out in a loud and harsh,
Her hands flew up suddenly as she tired to let all the anger and frustration and negative emotions out of her body.
"My Hecate, that was torture. How did you live with that?" She wanted to run around and be horrifically silly, she wanted to kick things and shout more. But more than all that she wanted to touch Mort.

Suddenly Belladonna whirled around to face the boil before she darted forward. Quickly her hands shot up and grabbed his face before she pulled him down and to her. Up on her toes she rose as she pressed a kiss to him, totally uncaring of the fact that they were outside and could be seen by anyone. All she knew was the freedom of being able to touch him and kiss him and just be happy with her darling Mort.
After a rather impassioned kiss she pulled back with a soft gasp and a true smile on her face.
"That shirt is absolutely hideous. Can I please take it off you?"

This was not the reaction she had wanted. Not the continual need to defend his mother, not the way he was so slow to react to her, as well as his lack of return touch only served to further diminish the witch's attitude. Instead she stood there, a little uncertain as she listened to him. Perhaps she wasn't thinking about this properly, wasn't considering all the factors.
Still... At his question the witch only shrugged and looked down at the dead grass under her shoes.
"I didn't mean out here..." The witch mumbled as she absently tugged at the bottom of her skirt, merely for something to do. His question made her look back up at him, where she couldn't hold his gaze and instead flapped a hand at him.
"Its just not you. Its nice, but I think if you're going to wear a button up shirt you should try something with longer sleeves. They'd look nice rolled up to the elbow..." Realization of exactly what she was saying, of how she sounded dismissive and rude made her sigh as she flapped her hand at him once more. "But it doesn't look bad. Its whatever you want."

As for the compliment that may or may not have also been an insult, the witch couldn't help but prickle a little. Already she'd spent so much of her time watching out for potential jabs, trying to guard every part of her from attack that now a simple compliment was offered it felt like another insult.
"Fright Night was really stressful! There was just so much going on, it was hard to keep up and she was being rude and then there was that really weird siren who was freaking me out--" With a snap she closed her mouth, realizing she had yet to tell Mort exactly her worries over that particular experience. Softly she frowned before she shrugged her shoulders and let her face turn neutral. "Its alright... I guess I'm glad she didn't totally rip to me ribbons."
It wasn't a very good acceptance of an apology, but it was the best the witch had at the moment.

From mid-air her hand was snatched, but Belladonna didn't fight the catch and instead gave her hand over to the zombie. It was a small thing, but she appreciated it and let her neutral expression soften. As for making progress with his mother, the witch only heaved a sigh and shrugged her shoulders. It certainly didn't feel like she was making progress with Ramona. It felt like she just kept going backwards, with the doll finding her less and less interesting. As though Belladonna were a child.
"I don't know... I still think she thinks I'm...Not right for you." This was said with a small pout, as well as an averted gaze. Naturally there was the fear that perhaps Mort would realize that too. Not that Belladonna necessarily thought this was a particularly relevant, or even a pressing concern. But more than that, the witch knew how imperative a mother's opinion could be. Especially on a son who despite being continually put down, still expressed quite a lot of adoration for her.

Belladonna momentarily hugged before she touched her free hand to the back of her neck. Momentarily she let her shoulder slump before she straightened back up.
"You didn't hear what Sol said before you got there..." The witch told him, her voice a little low. Her eyes stared at his neck, unable to look at him fully. After a moment she did bring her gaze up, her eyebrows crumbled a little. "Can we go somewhere more private? I do not really want to tell you all this out here in the open..."

Another sigh was heaved accompanied with a tilted frown. She wasn't entirely sold on Ramona converting to her side. Even if she saved the woman from Hunters, the doll would most likely comment on her slow actions or the fact that she'd ripped her skirt during the fight. Still, she looked up at Mort and finally shrugged her shoulders before she dropped her forehead against his chest.
"You're why I am here." She mumbled against his shirt. After another moment where she rubbed her forehead against him and generally bemoaned her fate, the witch finally straightened.
Quietly she followed behind him, looking altogether petulant as though she were waiting to be scolded. The petulant expression morphed to wonder as she stared at the suddenly clean room.
"It's so... Not... Um, It looks... Nice?" Unable to really articulate what it was she was trying to say. There wasn't really a nice way to put the fact that his room was suddenly so clean. So instead, Belladonna bent down to pet Victor.

"Hello darling! How are you?" She asked as she gave him a good petting. After another moment she turned her attention Lanna. No real words were spoken, only little cooing noises as the witch lavished her attention between the two pets.
"You two seem to be getting along well~" A wink was slipped in before she stood back up. "Is it alright if I sit anywhere, or would that ruin all your mother's hard work?"
Bitter wasn't a word Belladonna liked to apply to herself, mostly because it was the opposite of what she sprinkled her words with. But bitter was most certainly what she spoke with. Unfortunate really, as being bitter really wasn't going to get the witch anywhere. Still, it was something she could use to distract herself for a few more moments as she stared at the floor, yet unwilling to tell Mort about the Siren who was not as they seemed...

For another quick minute the witch pet the Hint and Foxfire, smiles given to both of them. Though Victor remained somewhat nonchalant during her pettings, the witch did spy his wagging tail and thus lavished some more love onto him. Lanna was pulled up into a quick hug and given additional pets as well before the witch gave them each one good ear scratch. Then she was up and moving across the room, slowly as she looked at all the different posters and various knick knacks unearthed from the cleaning.
After one final look the witch jumped up and flopped onto the bed, momentarily flat on her back to stare at the ceiling. How terrible would it be to let her particular worries out? Would it further diminish the night's enjoyment, or would Mort commend her excellent snooping abilities? Or, well, almost excellent... Things had ended quickly and the witch hadn't gotten as clear an answer as she wanted.

With a sigh she sat up, adjusting the little hat on her head. Usually it was Mort doing all the sighing and moping, but today it felt the witch was the who had all the grievances to air.
"I don't think Sol is who she says she was..." Belladonna momentarily furrowed her eyebrows as she idly let her hands fall together in her lap, one on top of the other so that one palm stared back at her. Having only dabbled in palmistry briefly, the witch could not divine the jumble of lines on her hand. It would have made things easier to have a map given to her, but instead Belladonna only continued to stare at her palm and the criss crossing lines, wondering what would come next.
"She was nice, yes... But... She was very much interested in the dress I'd made for Israfel's memorial... And she said she knew him. Before coming to Amityville, something about being his consort? It sounded weird, but I do not know a thing about Sirens so..." One hand idly flopped, halfheartedly, before it dropped back down to her lap. "The thing that was strangest... She kept using the present tense. She said Israfel was with her... And that he kept her from being lonely anymore."
Finally, after avoiding his gaze for so long, Belladonna looked up and hoped that Mort would understand the importance of her words. Of the way Sol had spoken of Israfel as though he were still alive, and very close to her still.

The frown did not really ease Belladonna's worries any and she instead dropped her gaze back down. Idly her toes tapped together, a soft little noise of shoes as they collided that punctuated the silence between them. For a long moment the witch only sat there, her hands clasped together as she grew more nervous about this.
After all, there wasn't any real reason for her to that nervous, it had already been done and over with. There wasn't much else the two of them could go about it unless Sol actually contacted Mort. Which was probably the reason Belladonna continued to hesitate.
"She didn't act nervous, but she did seem lost... Kind of confused, like she wasn't used to how things were done. She seemed really out of place." With a deep breath she looked back up at him and bit her lower lip.
In the heat of the moment she had been brave and brash. It had been easy to ask questions and demand answers, to try and get the siren to trip up. Now she felt foolish for doing that, for not trusting her gut and trying to further expose Sol's true nature.

"I cannot be sure, not at all. But she just... She wasn't at all surprised at Israfel's death even when I said he was murdered. And she kept asking about who did it, what kind of people they were... She wouldn't really focus on their relationship, or expound on how she knew him and kept dodging my questions." Granted, the witch had dodged some of her's too. Mostly because not everyone needed to know about The Hunter's continual wins, or their ability to convert Halloweeners to their side. But still.
A deep breath was taken before Belladonna let her face fall into absolute worry, into exactly what she was feeling with absolutely no trace of hiding anything.
"I think Sol might have maybe been a Hunter in a golem..."