[Closed Thread]
"Get out." So this is where those lowly grunts had been hiding, smacking each other around as broken glass accumulated on the soiled diner tile. In a room full of masks, she was the only one that bared her shame to those that cared to look her way. Maybe in the past, something like that would've mattered, but now she was one of many who held similar ideals. She was a drop of blood letting the current carry her wherever it went, and she had long lost the will to fight it.
No reaction from the crowd. Her voice was soft, tired, and barely fierce enough to get a reaction from ears that had no incentive to listen. She'd give them their damn incentive. Quietly, she stepped around the crowd, making way to a raided kitchen. Supplies had already been harvested by the populace, save for a few questionable jars with faded out labels. Her eyes flickered to the gas stove, curious to see how far the damage crossed. To her relief, it worked just fine, releasing a gentle flame that waved in greeting.
Cute little thing--now let's turn it into a monster.
Leaving the stove alone to swipe half a roll of paper towels, she flicked it through the kitchen's open window. Letting it roll out as far as it could, she let the edge catch aflame. The fiery snake slithered fast, hungry for the hunt as it connected with the chipped paint on the wooden bar, giving the diner an unpleasant scent as smoke rose up in warning. You'd think that a large group of people would react to a little bit of smoke, but they took too much comfort in each other to show immediate concern.
It was an interesting psychological reaction to watch, at least. "If they're all not reacting, then why should I be concerned?" She laughed, mocking the mindset as she slipped the only fire extinguisher in the room into her arms, refusing to even give them the comfort of such an object. Not willing to stand the heat any longer, she departed via the nearby fire exit, escaping the joyous shrieks as the flames continued to dance and hunger. Some of the grunts were willing to stay and die, while the less dedicated fled to live another day. Maybe they craved a more despairing end, or maybe they were just cowards. She couldn't judge.
All she could do was sit and stare at the burning diner that held some of her dearest high school memories, somehow finding some comfort in the fact that she'd never have to look at it again.
