Giddy is certainly one word for what Ivory's kiss makes Schwambart.  In an understatement-y sort of way.  Saying that he becomes giddy when she does that would be like saying that a Redwood tree is a bit tall, or that the trek he'd made from his previous home to Ponyville was a bit of a walk.  He certainly isn't in a shape to think of a better word to use, though.  He's busy being it.  It was one thing when she'd planted her lips on his nose as part of her performance, entirely another when shed kissed his cheek, outside of performance, completely voluntarily, and directly after accepting a date proposal from him.  This is better than that time that he...uh...got excited about...that...one thing?  Whatever it is, it's completely overshadowed by the night's events.

As she pulls out of the hug and starts helping him gather his things, he starts giggling under his breath, face absolutely torn asunder by his smile.  He can't concentrate.  He can't pack up his things.  He tries, oh goodness he tries, but he's almost literally walking on air, his wings deciding at inopportune times that this is not the moment to be stuck down to the ground, for he'd transcended his lowly terrestrial existence and would have to ascend to the heavens to match his spirits.  Generally this translates into him attempting to pick something up just to leap into the air with a bit of a louder giggle and hover back down to the ground, looking sheepishly at everything before repeating the whole process.

Needless to say, he wasn't an extreme amount of help in gathering his belongings.

"O-oh, it's just..." Schwambart begins to respond, quietly, to Ivory's question regarding his voice.  Well...he guesses he *could* start talking again, since, y'know...he apparently had.  But he'd gone through the trouble to make all those cards, way more than he believed he'd ever have reason to use.  Seriously?  One of his cards reads No, I have never been taken hostage, but thanks for asking!  What had he been thinking?

Wait.  Why are her cheeks getting red?  He thinks over the wording of his farewell note.  Afraid?  Did she misread it and think he was afraid of her?  That can't be right, she's far too bright to think that.  He assumes.  Heading?  Did she think he was going to headbutt her?  Agh!  He's probably overthinking this.  He could just ask...no, he can't do that.  He can barely talk to her sometimes, let alone ask her if she's embarrassed about something.
And then it's even worse!  Her poor little ears with the extra floofy bits on the end, they're down!  But...that happened after she flipped the card over.  What had she read that brought that up?  But she seems to get over that plenty quickly, so maybe she realizes that wasn't what he meant for her to see, whatever it was that was on the other side.

When she walks towards him, he figures she's just going to maybe give him another hug (that's something he'd like) and they'd have a farewell, certainly nothing big there.  Maybe talk a little bit more about the possibility of practicing for the next performance.  What he doesn't expect is the stream of high-falutin' sounding language coming from her mouth and-
No!  Why had he shown her that one!?  He'd really just written that as a joke, he certainly didn't mean to show that to her!  Oh goodness, if he was ever going to die from embarrassment, it was going to be from that.  His face lights up a brighter red than that one time he'd accidentally set his eyebrows on fire when he'd been playing with matches (don't do it, kids).  How would he ever get out of this one?

Oh!  An out!  It *was* the card he'd meant to show her, just on the other side!  Yeah, he'd just talk it down as an accident (which it was), no big deal.  "Oh, uh, sorry, um, I, uh, you see, um..."  Yeah, keep moving your mouth until something smart pops in.  Great idea.  Once he's finished berating himself on his articulation, though, he does start phrasing a little joke he could say that would hopefully ease the tension.  Something involving poker, diamonds, and...

But then it falls short when he makes a realization.  She'd accepted.  She'd said yes.  Well, not in that exact word, but the sentiment was the same.  In a heartbeat (which his is doing a rather loud job of, drumming way better than he'd ever learned to) his demeanor changes from ohmygoshwhatdidIdo to ohmygoshwhatdidIdoright with no middle ground, a huge grin splitting his face nearly in two.  "I!!!  Yes!  This, uh, you!  We!  Uh..."  It's practically visible on his face the amount of effort it takes for his brain to rein in his mouth.  Calm down, calm down.  When he does, his mouth remains open and motionless for a full 4 seconds before he makes another sound.
"'Course!  Uh...later, I...stuff!" he says, motioning to his pile of things he brought, the bag, blanket, violin, and cookies heaped on the ground next to them.  "Get...home!  For...home!"

It strikes Schwambart half a second after Ivory has already fallen on him how much of an overreaction it was for him to dive to catch her.  The ground was grassy and soft already, and not very far at all to fall, but he had been running by instinct when he was high-strung.  Yeah.  That sounds like a pretty good excuse.  Who knows?  Maybe it's even accurate.  Whatever it is, though, he's certainly glad she doesn't take it the wrong way.  Her laugh is highly gratifying for him, and even loosens him up a smidge.  Well, enough to talk...very, very quietly.  "Welcome," he squeaks out, not making much in the way of movement to stand or anything.

He squints at Kit as she proclaims her victory over the two of them.  Victory, huh?  She hadn't conquered him at all!  He'd have to correct her thinking...except that she's already leaving.  Maybe if he'd started thinking faster.  Wait, she's leaving?  Without her glasses?  He'd love to say something, but finds himself distracted by the Noctral on top of him.  Well...she said she'd be opening a shop up nearby.  And she knows Ivory, right?  He could return them tomorrow or sometime soon after that, once he got his glasses back from repairs.

"...having fun?"  Lamplight's question brings him back to the present, and additionally restores his sense of propriety.  "I, uh, *ahem*, uh, hm, I, *ahem*," he postulates with much stuttering, blushing, averting of his eyes, and clearing of his throat.  With a quick, practiced motion, he slides out from under Ivory without displacing her except to gently lower her to the ground (a maneuver he learned wrestling with his older and twin brothers...though the reaching the ground didn't tend to be so gentle with them) before putting out his hoof to help her to hers.  "Llllllll..." he intones, looking about to say something for a moment before he remembers the cards he scattered when he dove as well as the glasses.  He quickly sets to gathering those, starting with the glasses.  Wouldn't do to let those get broken like his, right?

He should just get going while the going's good.  After all, plenty of ponies are leaving.  He'd just be one more heading away from the event...carrying a bag, a violin case, a blanket, and a bag of too-sweet cookies.  Nopony would even notice he was missing.  It *is* the end of the event, after all.  But first Schwambart should probably return these reading glasses.  His should be fixed by morning.  He brings his wings down to reach up to take them off so he can slip them back to the Gryphon...

Oh.  She's coming this way.  Ivory's coming this way.  Directly at him.  And she's smiling so big, glowing like a big ol'...glowing...thingy.  He's far too nervous to be thinking of similes, dern it.  He raises a hoof weakly to wave at her, mind racing for a way he can disappear like the ninja he isn't to save himself some embarrassment.  Maybe he could toss down a smoke bomb...why doesn't he carry these in his vest, exactly?  Oh right, the economy.  And he doesn't know how to make them himself...yet.  Maybe he'll just blow some bubbles-

Too late!  She's hugging him!  Abort!  Abort!...y'know, he could just hang around for a little bit...y'know...while Ivory's still here...
"H-hi..." he breathes when she releases him, his face nearly splitting in half and boiling from the amount of grinning he's doing and the red in his face.  He adjusts the too-big glasses made for a Gryphon's face so they aren't nearly falling off.  He mumbles affirmative replies in a similar volume when she asserts her hope that he enjoyed it as much as her.  Not that he'd know just how much she enjoyed it, but he certainly did.  Even if he couldn't see it too well.  His eyes are continually drawn to her smile.  Definitely something he wants to see more of.  Even if it looks just a little...different with those fangs there.

His eyes return to meeting hers when she asks about the possibility of him joining her next time.  The thought fills him with...terror?  That's not right.  Anxiety?  Probably closer.  It sure does a good job making sure his face is filled with blood, though.  "I...M-m-m...fffff..." he stammers and fails to make a coherent thought.  His linguistic skills seem to have deserted him.  No matter, he planned for this eventuality.  His trembling hooves go to a flat, rectangular bulge in his vest, unzipping the pocket and pulling out a stack of cards.  Bringing them up close to his face, he scans the first one and hoofs it over to her.  It bears on it a hoofwritten note in duplicate, one version in cursive script and the other using regular letters.  Hello, Ivory!  I certainly did enjoy your show tonight! it says, clearly a canned response to the evening in general.

After some searching through the notes for a few seconds, he pulls out a second one and hoofs that one over.  It bears a similar arrangement of the same message repeated in cursive and print.  I appreciate the offer to let me join you, but I will need to think about it and hopefully have some time to practice with you before I commit to it.  If watched closely, it become apparent that some, if not all, the cards have things written on the backs as well.  And he has an awful lot of them.

Schwambart toys idly with the Gryphon's glasses she loaned him while waiting for the show to start.  He would wear them and get his bearings better while he had the chance, but last time he wore glasses that weren't his prescription that actually improved his sight at all they gave him a splitting headache, so he'd wait until the show to start to use them.  Huh.  They're different from his, he thinks.  Peering at them from the side, they look thicker in comparison with his, but only in some portions.  Others are actually thinner.  Which leads him to question their purpose, and why did the Kit have them in the first place?

He's interrupted in his musings by the striking up of the music, which he listens to raptly.  This is some music he can get behind, so bright and lively.  The instrumentation is certainly appreciable (though he would have preferred a piano to the accordion).  He's so caught up in it that he forgets for a moment the reason he's holding the glasses.
It lasts until Ivory first starts singing, at which point he suddenly remembers and brings the glasses up to his face, nearly dropping them in the process.  And once he fixes his eyes on her, they certainly don't want to leave.
The eyes would be drawn to her anyway, with the way she shines in the moonlight, but through Kit's glasses she's an absolute marvel.  Her image blurs right near the edges while seeming shafts of light (are those things that regular-sighted ponies see, or is it a quirk of wearing glasses?  He's wondered that for a while now) shoot out from her that tilt when he tilts his head, allowing him to create his own personal light shows.  Not that he really needs to.  He didn't even know she was going to sing, but he's really glad she started, having to fight himself to keep from humming along.  That could be a problem since he doesn't really know the song.  He can practically feel his tension melting away as her voice floats out over the crowd, enveloping it like so much auditory caramel.  That's a comparison that would probably best stay in his head.

He's a mite confused, though.  What he *was* expecting was some kind of dance, and right now she seemed to be crowd-interacting.  Was that something she did?  Not that he minds.  As long as she doesn't-
She is.  She's right in front of him.  Looking at him.  His heart pounds in his chest and his cheeks color once more, and he contracts just a little bit in front of her, waiting for her to pass on b-
Oh gosh.  He has a little bit of a panic attack when her lips are planted on his muzzle, but it fortunately doesn't show on the outside just how his emotions roil inside him except in how inflamed his face suddenly is, doing a pretty good impression of a tomato despite his natural green color.  He brings up his wings and shields his face as she continues on down the row, barely failing to suppress a few quiet giggles.  Part of the show or not, that gesture sure made an impression on him.

Enough of one that he doesn't manage to actually listen to the rest of the performance, his eyes constantly locked on Ivory while the rest of the world is drowned out in his consciousness by the presence of the Noctral and her glowing coat.  And then she's rising into the air, necessitating more advanced head tracking made slightly more complicated by his wings in his face and the glasses that don't quite fit his face.  While he watches, he can't help imagining himself up there with her, the two of them in tandem.  She had invited him, after all...maybe next time...

The effect of the light picture in the sky is almost completely lost on Schwambart with his bad vision, but he certainly did enjoy it.  Now if only he could get his hooves to applaud like she clearly deserved.  Instead he's just frozen, grinning like a madpony behind his wings at Ivory, who he's already planning on what kind of dessert he could make for her next.

The moments pass by without Schwambart taking much note of them, just transfixed on Ivory...or at least the blob he knew was her.  All this squinting was hurting his eyes, so he stopped that a bit ago, just focusing on listening and facing the gradually-more-brightly-glowing Noct-blur as she interacted with the others.  Not his cup of tea, but she certainly was exuberant.  Just adorable.

...Wait.  She's on the ground now.  What...what's that on top of her!?  He lets out a gasp and drops his bag and blanket, nearly doing the same with his violin case until he remembers what happened last time he did that.  It finds its way to the ground a bit more gently than the other things while Schwambart's mind races to think of a plan to remove the offending blob from the glowing one he'd been devoting his attention to.

The more weight the better.  He'd start with his bag.  Around that he wrapped the blanket.  His violin case would provide a good amount of weight, but he didn't want to risk damaging that until he had to.  But the blanket would unwrap from the bag, possibly tangle the blurry aggressor and maybe allow him to retrieve Ivory from under it.  In fact, as long as he's making things more difficult, the counterweight from the cookies he'll tie onto the blanket might help, however small amount it would.

His elaborate, not-exactly-well-thought-out weapon finished, he raises it above his head and advances on the two figures.  "How about YOU GET off...of..."  He realizes about halfway into his exclamation that his ears have been telling him something that he hasn't been listening to.  They were talking.  In fact, Ivory had been laughing.  She'd been jumped by a friend.  "I...er..."  He backs off several steps, sputtering, before unwrapping the blanket and dropping himself to the ground, covering himself with what he'd brought to sit on.  Wow, couldn't he at least pay attention?  And now he'd gone and yelled at Ivory's friend, probably drew plenty of attention to himself, too.  Anywhere.  He'd like to be anywhere but here.  Maybe if he hid under here for a while, they'd just leave him alone...

Schwambart turns back to look at Ivory when she begins talking to him, her features easier to distinguish this close but still blurred.  Yout can do this, Cambart.  You've been talking for years.  Surely you won't forget just because a mare seems to be doing her best to turn your knees into jello.  He smiles in a way that hopefully won't come off as deranged, then squints to get a better look at Ivory's face, make sure she isn't reacting badly to his horrid reaction.

Oh gosh.  He did that at exactly the wrong (or right) time, catching an eyeful of Ivory's dazzling, genuine smile, the kind that implies that the smiler has nothing to hide and would just love to be your friend.  The fangs of the Noctral just makes it seem even more so to him, as he's pretty sure he couldn't manage a smile like that if he had teeth like that.  The overall effect is...well, let's just say he's glad he was already sitting down, because after catching a beam like that directed at him he wouldn't have been able to stay on his hooves anyway.  And falling would have caused his cheeks and ears to burn even more than they are doing.  In fact, he finds it infectious, sneaking onto his face as well, though on him it looks more like a silly grin.  "N-no," he says quietly, trying to force it down in favor of a more normal expression to little success, "d-didn't scare me aw-way at all, Ivory, just, uh, *ahem*"  He clears his throat at the end of his stuttering attempt at conversation before giving up.

The best seat, she says?  Well, that sounds awfully nice of her.  It might be kind of wasted on him without his glasses, but she says it's also next to the musicians.  He wouldn't mind that part.  "I, uh, musicians! Yes, I'd like, uh...I'll..." he says, varying his volume erratically before taking a deep breath.  "I'llgetmystuff," he says in a rush, standing up in the process before promptly falling over.  Face flaming, he staggers to his hooves.  "I-I know how to w-walk, I p-promise," he mutters, nearly proving himself to speak falsely as he stumbles again, this time managing to catch himself before falling.  Phase 1 completed.  Now, phase 2: pick up your stuff.  He steps to the edge of the blanket and manages not to set off the collapse of modern civilization, which is a pleasant surprise, and he begins scooping up his bag, violin case, blanket and cookie bag without starting any world wars.  That he knows of.

"N-nice to meet you, Lamplight, I-I'm Schwambart-t, call me, uh, Schwambart, Cappy, Carpal Tunnel, or maybe 'that dern green pegasus', that one seems to be a favorite," he says, managing to control himself a little bit for his semi-routine introduction, everything aside from his actual name (which he forgot to mention aside from his surname) improvised. "Haven't known her to long, but she, uh, helped when I was, uh, moving in, uh...problems with house, uh..."

He breaks off when the other group comes over, introduction flying.  Schwambart unconsciously takes a small step back eyeing thefuzzy newcomers with a squint that hopefully doesn't mame him look angry or anything.  Patches.  Why does hat name sound familiar?  He peers at one of the shapes while the yellow one turns and goes, saying something about her cat.  That blob looks familia, but wh-

Oh, that's right.  That was the very first blob he saw here in Ponyville.  Along with the other faintly glowing blur hovering nearby.  Her triangle was on her back, not her head.  That must be what was throwing him off.  "Oh, h-hi Ms-" No, she's married.  That hulkink mass f muscle that may or may not be bigger in his memory that she was married to was her husband.  "Mrs...". Shoot.  What was that last name?  It started with one of those letters late in the alphabet.  "...Zapper?". Well, he'd have to go with that.  "I-it's nice to see you a-again."