Cake is the food that no one has to die for

[solomonjihad]

[...She...she isn't sure what to do. She doesn't get sleep that night. She wanders around, sitting in the tea room, walking the library, trying to figure out what to do with herself. What to do for Natalie. For everyone in general.

Is this how the trials worked? Will they have to deal with another next week? Can she...she condemned Natalie's brother. She'd probably never speak to Astarte again.

This is your fault. Death is more preferable to such shame, isn't it?

As 7 am finally came around, and the kitchen opened, Astarte decides to do something. Hime...had wanted to have cake with everyone. A nobody dying cake. She should try to...try and fulfill that promise.

So, she starts working on a cake, using a recipe from the library's various cookbooks. It won't be as good as Hime's, she knows this. But she has to try. It also isn't going to look great, but...it won't be bad for the taste, right?

Once she's finished, there's a...cake in the dining room, along with some other foodstuffs, and a note that says HELP YOURSELF. There's also Astarte, starting to doze off at the other end of the table, then shaking her head to keep herself awake. Feel free to try and help her stay awake, or not, regardless of what you decide to eat or not eat.]

Comments

[solomonjihad]

[Her head comes up at this.]

Heather...! There has to be a way. Even if its just...doing nothing! Not falling for the...the manager's attempts!

[onthebusagain]

No! Don't you get it? Even if we make it out of here, there's no guarantee we'll make it out there!

[solomonjihad]

...What do you mean?

[onthebusagain]

I never thought about dying before. I'm young, and rich and pretty. But now-- everyone here's murdering each other, and outside of here, my best friend killed herself! There's no getting away from it!

[solomonjihad]

...Everyone does, Heather. That can't be changed. The only thing we can change is how we deal with it. I...

[She looks down at this.]

I don't want to see you fall apart. Falling apart. Breaking inside. Its...

[Unconsciously her hand comes to her heart.]

Its worse than death.

[onthebusagain]

[Shes quiet then, chewing on her lip.

It's a while before she speaks again.] They all just.... seemed so bright.

[solomonjihad]

I know. And yet, they died, because...because someone else wanted them to.

[onthebusagain]

[She falls silent a little longer, then smiles sheepishly.]

You're a good person, Astarte.

[solomonjihad]

...So are you, Heather.

[There's a small smile on her face at this.]

I won't tell anyone, though.

[onthebusagain]

[She laughs, rubbing her eyes.]

It's okay. My reputation is totally destroyed, already.

[solomonjihad]

Oh.

[...Napkin?]

[onthebusagain]

Thanks. [dab dab]

You're a good friend.