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Christof glowered at Barth, nostrils flaring in his frustration. He pulled up a particularly oozing pillowcase to toss directly at the Sloth Demon just as his psudo-master's short friend leaned in to whisper something about escape. Escape?? They were being punished! Their punishment would be a LOT worse if they exasperated it! Rules 2 and 5. He would make sure things Got Done if it killed him! He was a good Igor, he knew it, deep in his heart of hearts. He was not going to let them get in further trouble. More flustered than usual? They were in DETENTION, Master!

The grimy pillowcase caught on Barth's horns, making a wet thwack sound.

He made a face, and peeled it from his face and hair. He was not, in actuality, all that opposed to ooze. Being assaulted with laundry was a different matter. "I'll take that as a no. ...Or maybe a yes. If you're throwing things at me again." He wiped his face in the crook of his elbow, then looked at Raziel. He had suspected stirring would get very tiring, very quickly.

He said, "Obviously I'd rather not be here, but," he looked at the door, and the gnomes. "The door is pretty far in that direction. And I don't have any gnome-repellent on me. And err, why me, if you don't mind my asking."

Not that he was opposed to escape plans.

He was just suspicious of any plans that deemed him as useful.

Israfel's head bobbed up and down as he agreed, taking a quite moment to make a face as another slime covered piece of cloth came into his possession. This one he might has well have categorized as alive given the mold on it. That of it was the remains of student once upon a time. Israfel shuddered at the thought. "My last detention we were in the Other Bathroom." His whole body froze and feathers poofed out. "I've smelled low tide and there was never a tide that had even smelled as bad as what was in there." Another sheet, this one with..ewww...was the ectoplasm?

Israfel knew this was why he was picky with the ghosts he kept close and were his friends. In the back of the Siren's mind he hissed 'Figg'. Eyes narrowed, thinking of another poem to write to emo-tastic ghost boil. "But ew, I know what you mean. It's bad, but just imagine it could be worse. Hellma could have told us to dress in some kind of..." He gulped. "Pink cleaning uniforms." The water bubbled as another sheet fell in. "I'm Israfel by the way, he smiled a bit, before realizing he was getting slime on his arm from holding the dirty cloth for too long.

Colette sighed and dropped the blankets the gnomes had shoved into her arms into the nearest vat. There was no escape, it seemed the only thing left was to finish and leave. Then she could finally just go to sleep. Inspecting her arms, the ghoul felt a familiar despair much similar to what she felt in Christmas Town when an elf had landed on her. She grabbed the nearest seemingly clean article of clothing she could find and vigorously wiped her arms in attempts to get some of the gunk from the blankets off. This caused her to take notice of the mark still on her hand, and Colette remembered she needed to ask Barth about it. Had he returned yet?

She looked around for Barth while wiping the last of the residue on her arms off and caught sight of him with two other boils. One she recognized from Candycane Lane and the other was, of course, Christof. Why? Colette glared in annoyance. Hopefully after all of this, she wouldn't be seeing the patchwork around anymore; but right now, she needed to talk to Barth. Unlike the gunk, the image on her hand didn't budge, no matter how much she wiped at it.

Tossing the now gunk ridden article of clothing with other dirty clothes, Colette headed in Barth's direction, but made sure to avoid where Christof was. Even if it meant going around an entire pile of clothing, she was fine with it. When she was close enough, Colette held her left hand over her right in attempt to cover the mark. It hadn't occurred to her before, but in case it was something bad, she did not want anyone else to see or point it out.

Raziel and Barth did seem busy, but this was really important! She eyed the two before trying to get Barth away, though not as aggressively as she wished she was capable of. "Uh.. Barth, could I talk to you for a minute. Soon. And alone. I mean, as soon as you can, " her eyes darted back to Raziel as her left hand gripped the mark it covered. She definitely didn't want to look at Christof, but she was sure he'd know he wasn't welcome.

Out the corner of an eye, he did in fact, notice Holly managing to successfully get out of the laundry room, but he was still unwilling to give it a try himself. What if he managed to get out but wasn't able to carry Cora (or now LW) with him? He simply couldn't leave either ghoul alone right now. Even though the danger seemed to have passed, he didn't want to take the risk. Specially not when Red could some back any moment now.

He turned towards the she-wolf as she spoke, and finally offered her a real grin, "Yup!" he chirped, apparently having recovered from his initial wave of... unhappiness. The fact both ghouls were safe (at least for now) had managed to bite down on his need to growl protectively over them like the gargoyle he was. He blinked at her as she spoke, and then after a beat, chuckled, "Well, that's one way to look at it! Though I'm not sure if most everyone here agrees with you," he looked towards the door, his features twisting into a serious scowl for a moment; while he'd regained his cheerfulness, he still looked on edge.

LW's next words though, managed to drag his attention fully back onto her, and he blinked her once more before tilting his head to one side. The motion was almost puppy like in nature, "That's a cute name, actually. Does that mean you're a wolf?" he lowered his gaze to her tail, his grin returning, "Well, I guess the tail makes sense now, huh?" he shamelessly reached out with his free hand to run his fingers through it, "I'm guessing it's soft," but then again... he couldn't really tell, even as he moved his fingers through the fur. Bones while good in battle, were not the most sensitive of things. There were times he wished he had skin, "Hmmm?" he blinked back at her, then looked back at the cauldrons, "Oh!" he lifted a finger in the air, using the hand he'd been stroking her tail with, as if to tell her to wait a minuted, and then scanned the room. His features seemed to slip out of the happiness and back into serious guard-dog mode as he looked around.

It was only when he'd taken in the whole room that he turned back to the two ghouls and the one boil, smile back in place, "Yup! I think we're good to go. Just try not to fall into those cauldrons. I don't want to have to fetch you," he was actually serious about doing that. It seemed the gargoyle wore his metaphorical heart on his sleeve. That said, he moved to dump his load of blankets into the cauldrons, "I don't know," he suddenly voiced, "Could be worse," but then again, his sense of smell was nowhere near as good as LW's or some of the other students'.

((For my own reference. Number of words: 1372))

Raziel was actually a little surprised when Barth gave his remark. He hadn't expected the demon to decide against getting out of more work. Contemplating the idea of the consequences of skipping out on detention, Raziel began to slowly mull over the idea of staying. It wasn't exactly top on his list of great ideas, but it also wan't a bad idea to stay and avoid more punishment.

At the mention of a disgruntled hunchback, Raziel glanced up to see another student angrily staring him down. What was his problem?

In an almost off-hand tone, Raziel responded to Barth, "Uhh, you're probably... right..." he trailed off, still completely taken by the fact that this boil he didn't know at all was trying to stare him into non-existence. He was moments away from walking over and asking what his problem was.

After eyeing the little monster standing beside him, Christof caught sight of that Reaper girl from before- Master Barth's new servant. He couldn't stop the territorial murmur in his throat from bubbling up, but once it was there he quickly swallowed it down. Regardless of the looks she was giving him, he was diligent to stand by and not be bullied out of his position. Reaching into his vest he pulled out a few copies of the forms the Sloth had given him to hold onto, offering them out to Colette directly, his mismatched sour expression shifting from Raziel to lock with her's. Paperwork, check. See? He was a much more efficient lackey than her! He hadn't even asked for them, and here he was! What did he need to go marking others for? He had an IGOR.

Of course he was right. At least while Christof was standing there.

"Yes, err," Barth said, "you can type those up later, Christof. ...I'll get the copies for Colette to sign." He hesitated to explain, but it looked like no one else had done the job while he was gone.

"It's a mark. Err, my mark, actually. Of a Contract for Services Rendered. You do your bit, I do mine, and it'll poof. Not all demons are especially keen on doing favors for homework assignments, though."

The last sentence was vague, but certainly a warning.

He moved the same piece of laundry aimlessly between piles with his foot while he talked.

(( Word Count: 922 ))