[h3]Mariah Point[/h3][hr]The most overdressed member of the living dead in the room blinks, considering the timeliness of her arrival and the vaguely unnatural tone of the situation as a whole. Then, not being one to refuse a chair given, she sits down in one of the seats closest to the wall. "Well," she starts, fixing her sub-zero gaze on the man who she presumed was her host. "I'm Mariah, and I'm pretty sure I'm dead. Actually, scratch that, I'm totally dead. Is that your doing, Suit?"

[color=yellow]"Now now, Mariah. I'm sure that Mister Suit is a perfectly nice old gentleman~"[/color] Sunny admonishes her host in a sing-song voice, resting her head comfortably on Mariah's shoulder. She manages to break her eyes away from the subject of her affections for long enough to give George a quick once-over, smiling in his direction before returning to doting over a sighing, resigned Mariah.

"Alright, play nice with the guy who probably killed me. Got it, Sunny. I am really, so glad to have you around."

"So," turning from her Memento Mori before she could start pouting at her.

"Serve any drinks in this place?"