As the door opened, Goodman's eyebrows rose in interest at the woman standing beyond the threshold, his smirk curving lazily at her comments on his bells. Chin tipping up and head tilted back, he appraised the head and voice that became visible from within, glad to be recognized, even if names were still a bit spotty for him. Entering the house, his eyes zeroed in on the huge purple and black tree in the corner, his eyes also sweeping over the black candles lit everywhere.<br/><br/>An amused huff left him as he breezily drawled, "And here I was worried I didn't have a single colorful thing in my closet. This party was tailor made for the deviants and the heathens."<br/><br/>Casually tossing the little present in the air and lightly catching it, Goodman made a quick detour to deposit it under the tree before moving with languid grace towards the kitchen. A pointed finger and squinted eye articulated his brief search of memory as he said, "King something, right? And you are..." He stood blanking for a moment on the woman, grimacing fondly as he stroked his beard and jingled his little bells. "I saw it on the invite but couldn't pronounce it. Forgive me."<br/><br/>Coming to stand like a looming shadow in the kitchen, Goodman sighed briefly and asked, "Is it too early to start working on getting plastered?" Soul dammit, he was nervous. "Egg nog will be fine for now. Spiced with rum, if you please," he said with a casual wave of his slender fingers.