[b]Karyl delle Campane[/b]

Karyl stared after the scientist as he fled. Yeah. Stuttering and red. Toally fine. "Dick," she said to herself. She was just trying to be nice and what did that get her? Well, then. Looking around, she was the only one left in the entryway with the hysterical Super High School Level Good Luck. Lucky for who, she wasn't sure. Probably not her, though. She squashed the ngative thoughts as she stood up. Her stomach grumbled a little - weird, how long had they been out for? There didn't seem to be any openings to see the sky outside, but she knew a few things. 

For one, she had not skipped breakfast. For another, out of a matter of habit, she ate large, filling breakfasts to keep her going through rehearsal. Unless it was already night (and a check of the clock denied that), she shouldn't be hungry already.

Whatever. She had bigger problems. One laying at her feet, actually. Once more, she knelt and offered the hoodie. "Hey. Just us two now. Feeling any better?" Maybe he simply didn't like crowds.

[b]Octavia Arterbury[/b]

She beamed. Well, he was patient at least. Maybe they could be friends, even! That sounded nice, especially if they'd be stuck here. She hadn't spent any time looking around yet, but mybe there was an arcade or something they could hang out in. It sounded fun enough. And - oh, right, his own questions. Sure, why not? She began to write as fast as she could, her letters becoming large and loopy with her speed. Still readable, of course; she had practice writing so quickly. She presented the napkin when she was done.

[i]'I'm actually pretty good at multiplayer - no one sees me coming, you know?'[/i] To punctuate it, she had even doodled a stick figure smiling with an army helmet and a blocky rifle. [i]'Though mostly for first-person shooters. Quite a few have some nice violin tracks. Do any open world rpg games do that?'[/i] She wasn't sure if she was being redundant, but she also didn't know how to pluralize 'rpg' since she doubted it still stood for 'rocket-propelled grenade'. [i]'I can play a lot of classical orchestra pieces, but I'm also really good with pop and soundtracks. I'll take requests after we finish eating - don't want to ruin my violin. c:'[/i] Her own smile mirrored the drawn one.

[b]Morgan Oakley[/b]

Morgan stared in quiet surprise at Dieter, unable to avoid paying attention as he rambled about the effects of poison, before leaning on the closest counter. How to address that... Well, probably by not adding further supicion. It'd be pointless.

"Now, I'm going by movies, but I'd think someone dying during torture is counterproductive. You can't get anything else out of them, nor can torture continue once they're dead. But I've been informed Hollywood lies to me on a lot of topics. I suppose you know better on the matter." M shrugged before continuing to search. "Anyways. Anything you want- ah!" And there was a bag of marshmallows. "Any opinion on popcorn balls? I didn't hear anything you two wanted." After all, Dieter seemed uncomfortable (strange, the topic was his idea and hopefully something he was knowledgeable in) and Edie none too happy. Best to get a new topic going. Poisons aside, food was generally safe to discuss. Everyone ate, everyone had preferences. Admittedly, Morgan was a bit indifferent to their responses - m would make them anyways. Stovetop on, oven preheating, washing hands, oil heating, mixing bowls down - and once Edie offered specifics on what to make, Morgan could get started there. 

"I suppose you can get the drinks without me, right?" Probably to Edie, but if Dieter wanted to help, well, up to him. As long as he didn't get in m's way, what was the harm in that? Until then, m could start making the biscuits.