guys. what if we get so fat that the fat is like... BULLETPROOF!

Dostaria held a rosy, plump peach to her mouth. The Station was able to synthesize literally every food she could possibly think of, and for whatever reason she chose a peach. A full meal seemed like too much, she would have ended up wasting it. Wasting food showed ungratefulness, even here where there was an infinite amount of food. She bit into the peach. Some people didn't have food like this, even if she could tell that it was synthesized. She sat with her legs dangling under her and her head supported on an elbow. The cafeteria was completely empty and dim, or at least this one was. Neon colored lights showered the room in a soft greenish glow. Occasionally the lights would pulse. It was sort of a calming effect, but it reminded her that she should be asleep right now. There was a couple cafeterias, this one and the one for the lower level humans. There might have been five others and she wouldn't have known. For most of her stay she'd kept to herself in her room, not really caring to explore or meet new people. They probably didn't care to speak to her. Making friends wasn't her strong suit. She used to be better at it, but now she just didn't care to speak. It was probably because she hadn't slept in at least two nights, but she wasn't going to bet on it. Awkwardness was just her most prevalent trait. One of the few friends she had managed to make was gone. He was her best friend. She probably even loved him a little bit. Dostaria hadn't cried then, after all some people had it worse. Some people didn't have anything to eat, not even a peach, or any friends at all. She still had Thomas and Neon too.

Dostaria continued to nibble on her peach, losing her appetite about halfway through. Her hair seemed bent on intruding, flopping across her eyes and obscuring her view of the table. I need a haircut, she decided.

ooc: Oh god i haven't posted in a long time arrrrrrrrrfhgjakl

This was much better. The light in the cafeteria was dimmed, the light overhead flickered as if it were soon to die. This place wasn't used much, it was obvious. Maybe not at all. He couldn't eat in the other cafeteria, not anymore. The more he went in there the more it became worse. That suspicion, that knowing that every time he sat down just to eat eyes were locked onto his person. That conscious feeling of the burn of their eyes. He knew they were looking, judging. For what, he wasn't quite sure, but he could hear them sometimes. Whispers and murmurs behind him, always venomous in nature. He'd try to hide in his room and eat in silence, but he could still hear them. Their whispers still following him down the halls and then their talking just outside of his door. He had stopped coming to eat, to just give them what they want and leave. However, it had been more futile than trying to ignore them. In ever step he took, in ever turn he made he could hear their snickers and laughs, mocking him even more.

But not today. He'd be alone in a silence away from their cruelty.

Ronny stepped into the quiet cafeteria, the scrape of his shoes on the ground making noise throughout the room. His stomach growled, 'causing hunger to pang in his stomach. He hadn't eaten since yesterday, but now he'd get to. His joy didn't come from the eating, but from the simple joy of being alone for at least one moment in the day. The synthesizer stood on the back wall as it did in the other cafeteria, ready to serve.

His focus had been so directed that he almost didn't notice the other person that was apparently there. Almost. His eyes began to drift toward her and then quickly shot away, switching their focus to the dirty, tiled floors. He tried to keep his step steady and unfaltered. He hadn't seen her around, not that he could quite remember. He walked faster without noticing, hoping he could finish this before she could recognize his many apparent faults.

He entered his desired meal quickly, punching in the keys with as much speed as he could muster. With the food made in seconds he nearly sprinted to his seat, almost tripping over himself, and sat at a table much farther away from the blue haired girl that ate in the room with him. He kept his eyes fixed down on his plate, trying to eat the noodle-based food as quickly as he could, scooping with his fork and swallowing quickly. He did all this while trying to be as quiet as he could. If he drew attention to himself, his quick escape would virtually crumble.

She looked up at Ronny as he entered, careful not to catch his eye. He was fixated on the floor though, it seemed. Dostaria wasn't sure whether she'd seen the boy around before, but his brown hair and currently downwards cast eyes seemed familiar. She cautiously watched him avoid her as much as possible, going as far as to sit all the way on the other side of the cafeteria.

Obviously he didn't want her presence. Dostaria stared at her peach shifted positions so that her thick mop of blue colored hair obscured her face. Not wanting to inconvenience the boy more, she got up from her seat with her peach and half-empty glass of water in hand. Careful to look down, she walked quickly towards the trash, which was directly behind the boy. She stumbled. Suddenly the glass of water was in the air and her peach was flying towards the wall. "Oh no," she mouthed as the glass of water flew towards the boy. It was too late now. She winced and began stuttering an apology.

Ronny kept his eyes on his plate, his mind still on the girl even if his sight wasn't. He had the feeling that he needed to leave. Something felt wrong. Danger close. The feeling of paranoia crawled under his skin. He knew she was doing something. Something to do with him, malicious in nature of course. She was obviously like the rest of them. Teasing and malice filled.

He lifted his fork and froze, hearing footsteps come towards him from her direction. He felt himself tense, automatically getting ready for a blow towards his body or pride. Or maybe to run or dodge. He darted his eyes up at her to at least see what he could evade, but it was too late by then. In a split second he saw the cup of water going towards his face. It didn't take long before he felt cold water on his face and soaking through his clothes.

His eyes went downcast, looking at his water-darkened clothes. Droplets dripped from his hair and off his nose and pain stung on his head where the cup hit him. His spaghetti that was once dry was now puddled with the water that happened to spray in that direction. His once mediocre day was now ruined. Much of his enthusiasm was now eliminated. There really was no point in trying to avoid these people, was there? No, they always came back some way.

Increased depression defend his ears. He didn't hear a thing Dostaria said if she had. "Imbecile! What are you doing getting in her way!?" Ronny fists clenched, hearing the harsh tone from the always-angry voice. "Get up! Get up! You look like a toddler!" He stood up quickly, obeying the booming voice that drowned out the noises around him. "What the hell are you doing!? Apologize!

"I-I'm sorry," Ronny muttered immediately. He quickly picked up her cup and items she dropped on her way. "Sorry," he said louder as he collected both his and her things. He kept his eyes on his task until he finished, everything stacked together neatly. He let his eyes drift back up to her, "Do you--" "What are you looking at her for!?" His eyes darted down from her face immediately, focusing themselves on something else. Like that peach. "Doyou want me to get you another glass of water?"

OOC: Not worth the wait, but done. :E

Dostaria stared at Ronny, water darkened clothes and all. Her eyes met his for a second when he looked up at her, but she quickly blinked and dropped them. She blushed bright red and put her hands behind her back. His spaghetti lay ruined now, thanks to her. "I'm s-so sorry, s-sir. I'm so clumsy, I can't even walk right." Her eyes bored into her feet. Her toes were facing each other, just like they always did when she was feeling like this. Embarrassed, shaken up, and like she wanted to disappear.

She forced herself to meet his eyes and speak without stuttering. "Thank you, but no thanks," she said quietly. Why would he get her anything after her display. "Here," she stepped cautiously towards him and took the dishes from the table. He shouldn't have to clean up her mistake.

Dostaria still didn't look up at him, but rather at the thick curtain of blue that was obscuring about half of her vision. "Do you want me to get you another plate of spaghetti?" Her cheeks were still burning, and she hoped desperately he wouldn't notice.