laid | WEEK 1 CURFEW HELL

[ Vezda was planning on a nice, quiet midnight snack. Just him, the pantry, and the hunger in his stomach that needs sating.

He aimlessly fiddles around in the kitchen until it is built: clawed in his metal left hand is a cold, dense wad of leftover spaghetti. It's topped with a liberal dollop of mayonnaise, some crushed doritos, and the cherry on top: not a cherry, but a pickled tomato.

On each of his clawed fingers there is also a hot dog, similarly cold, speared on his fingertips like he's about to roast them over a campfire.

And in his right hand is a nice mug of tea. Because he is, after all, a civilized man.

When he actually enters the lounge to eat, though, he wasn't expecting company. So he finds himself standing dead in the doorway. ]

Uh.

[Well this sure is a motely group, but to ring in curfew, Raven's actually going to get up to trot upstairs to check on Hikaru... only to find the door locked. He steps over to the stairs to yell down to the others.]

I think the damn doors are locked again!

(This is Claude. He's been kind of quiet and keeping close to Hua Cheng and Xie Lian but otherwise, he seems fine. He's sitting cross legged on the floor in front of a coffee table or something because he's a grown noble that just sits on the floor sometimes.

Claude also has like 4 different cups of tea in front of him for some reason. He must be really thirsty or something before bed. It's cool. One is still steaming hot and is still steeping a bag in it, the other three seem like they've cooled down. One doesn't even have any tea in it. It's just a mug of water.

He's got a few packs of sugar and he's dumping one into his hot cup.)

It looks like this is where we're camping out for tonight. We should figure out how we're sleeping.

(Asking the real questions here... and pointing out:)

There are five of us and three couches.

time for food crimes, baybee

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