I Kan Eat Again | Arty + Jack | Furniture Car

Arty Takenaka

For all of the hubbub surrounding the lamb stew, Arty hadn’t actually wanted to give it away as much as it probably seemed at the time. Good food doesn’t seem easy to come by here; she’s had three bites of tepid pizza in the Gacha Car and that’s it. (And god that lamb had looked tasty. But Abel needed it more.)

Needless to say, Arty is cautiously eager for a cafeteria where you can get actual meals. And seeing that they have meatballs makes her feel like she’s hit the jackpot. Which might be a little sad if she thinks about it too hard, because after years of daydreaming about winning an actual lottery, one good meal should not even rank on Arty’s list of fantasies. But WHATEVER, she’s HUNGRY.

With a tray loaded with more meatballs than she could possibly have room for in her stomach, as well as two orange juices, Arty finds a spot to sit (whatever’s closest; she really doesn’t care) and prepares to dig in.

Roadie 🪶Jack

Arty Takenaka

Jack wasn’t altogether that big an eater, strictly speaking, but he certainly wasn’t the “wait until you’re hungry” type. How was he supposed to know when he was hungry? His last time-telling device had given out ages ago, and his internal clock was… extremely suspect at best. It was much simpler to just eat whenever he found food, if he could stand a few more bites.

So when he managed to wind up at the cafeteria, it was mealtime! And while there may have been enough menu choices to make decisions near impossible—Should he just order one of each? Could he possibly get through that much without just making himself sick?—the menu wasn’t the only thing here to look at. Someone else had clearly put herself on the wrong side of the likelihood-of-food-waste spectrum here. He was obligated to correct that.

Also, if stealing was an option, why on earth would he have chosen anything else?

Soundlessly, he swiped a fork and slunk around to creep up in Arty’s blind spot. The plan was to spear a meatball from over her shoulder and hop back before she could do anything about it. Rinse and repeat, if possible. But he hadn’t waited for any more distractions than the general aroma of food, so his success hinged on how much attention she was paying to any shifting shadows…