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"Ill always need it" Rep said with a very toothy smile. It looked from here like Clarice just might have been into the whacky coffee too.

At least after Harrisons ******** teasing he was glad of the invisibility.

This was like, the best moment of his life. This was almost worth that weird molestation thing that had happen- you know what he was going to just forget about that one okay- this was worth every single moment, and if Mark's ego could be quantifiably measured it was possible that it could provide enough rainfall on Deus with its sheer volume for decades to come. See, this is what he was talking about. He was glad that some ladies understood him, it looked like the others previous had simply been too stupid to understand. Ha! He didn't need them anyway!

"I don't just take any padawans," he puffed up his excuse of a man chest, "but since you did mention my sexiness as a god, I'll let that one slide. I'll even take you for some like, personal training, right after I open your linux code and insert my function into your variables, and infinite clause it all night lo-"

-He suddenly pause and froze, staring straight at Clarice like a rabbit caught in well, in various Deathsweeper traps. The Death assistant made a strangled sound, abandoned all facades and pretty much ran away squealing, both arms in the air. "Abort mission! I have been spotted! Tell my minipets I loved them!"

Who was he talking to again?

Melvin was looking at the table, touching the tablecloth and pressing his hands down on it to guage how heavy it was. He could lift this. He was sure of it.

Grabbing one end, he lifted it to see it didn't weight much of anything. No. He shouldn't just lift it. He should put stuff on it. More stuff.

Melvin was now looking around for the closet person he could put on the table.

Melvin looked around before he lifted the tablecloth and looked down at what seemed to be a girl. "You're not a table. You should come up here and sit on it though. I want to see if I can do it. I'm sure I can." He patted the top of the table as if this was a great idea - which Melvin currently thought it was.

Clerise beamed, listening to the slowly rolling panic, confusion, and hilarious mistakes. Rep was probably the worst person to allow to take over the talking, but. Well. It PROBABLY wasn't permanent, right? Plus, the show was just getting good. Gnat was probably her favourite. Either way, she flashed Rep a pair of thumbs up.

When Clarice came up behind her, the redhead leaned back into her touch with a happy, thrumming hum. Almost like some sort of cat, really. Quietly writing notes on her clipboard with observations, Clerise was content to be a bystander.

Until Clarice said to hit the Mark Alarm. "What, is Mark here? I don't think we've met. Huh. I guess we could press it?"

It was a pity she was missing the antics of her least favourite person cowering under the table. She was aware of it in her peripheral, sure, but there was a girlfriend to attend to.

(Clerise did, though, note the location of Mimsy's hiding place. For later.)

Robert got a Clarice hug! And she didn't even seem phased that half of him was missing. Really, that alone put him at ease. He hugged her back, completely unaware that something had changed in her demeanor. If he'd been smart, he would have stopped her from drinking that coffee.

But.

He was Robert.

And he loved a good hug.

Speaking of which! "Hiii, Mimsy." He, on the floor, was the perfect level to see her hiding under there. Did someone else need a hug..?

"Huh." The only person leaving was Jed. Maybe Clarice was still just half asleep or- oh. ...Wow, oh.

"That guy," Clerise pointed at Jed's retreating figure, who was no longer in an unmarked labcoat, but a real coat with the death insignia? "Is Mark? ...Really?" She pressed her face into Clarice's shoulder, tugging her into a hug. The clipboard was abandoned on a counter in favor of using her hand for something better: rubbing slow circles into the base of Clarice's back.

"I dunno, does Scotland count as like, another planet? Is that how that works? Explains that drink they have there. Looks pretty unreal."

Depressingly enough, Clerise wasn't on any side-effects of the coffee, nor was she that sleepy. "Maybe H already HAS. We should ask if he's got any scars."

She waved her arm at Rep, hollering-- "HEY. DID H PROBE YOU YET? OR DID YOU PROBE HIM FIRST?"

Turning back to the blonde, Clerise looked as though she was actually contemplating her words as reality. "Maybe it's a magic tentacle. Maybe that's how he got away from the kraken. He communed with it! Also, thanks-- I maybe stole your body wash." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Again."