The Bellators

3:7:3

 On the white surface sits a wide white pan which makes a soft hissing sound, and on that pan are a batch of perfectly baked cupcakes snugged in pink wrappers–with white star decals– and topped immaculately with frosting in precision of roses of various colors being pink, green, yellow, and blue. All of the cupcakes are perfectly spaced from one another with there being plenty to go around, for even in this turbulent of times there was space for inner peace.

A fair-skinned hand with pink nails curls its finger around one of the cupcakes with blue frosting, and pulls it off the plate, isolating it from the rest, up above to be devoured as the rest remain on the surface.

That blue-frosted cupcake glides up in the gentle grip of the hand away from the surface, bringing it towards the partly opened mouth of a woman eager to restore her mind, and by bringing it to her mouth and chomping on a corner of the cupcake's frosting, at least a remnant of happiness strikes her from the heavens.

Pulling the cupcake from her face, Kokei rocks back and forth on one of the four white chairs surrounding the dining table in the kitchen, the chair able to tilt back and forth with the perfect smoothness yet speed to bring out a satisfying rock, for any small detail can brighten her day.

In front of her on the table is the circular tray filled with the fresh batch, and neighboring it are two mugs sculpted to resemble cartoon panda heads with wide, exaggerated eyes to amplify a sense of adorableness. Both of the mugs are filled with a light brown liquid which emits a gentle mist, containing a warm beverage.

Kokei brings her free hand towards the mug closest to her, just in front of her while the other is on the other side of the table, and that mug projects a white holographic handle which she wraps her hand around to bring it to her mouth and take a sip.

Afterwards she places the mug back on the table, and continues to rock back and forth aimlessly while taking minor bites from her snack, alone in the open dining room with the wide windows behind her to display the bright sunny day–golden cities on distant clouds and intricate gold treehouses right in front in rows of the neighborhood.

Such a grand, beautiful, vast world, and she experiences it all exclusively from the window of the bunker she works in, not having left the house all day. While the wideness of the screen nearly provides the illusion of her being out in nature, the lack of wind brushing her hair exposes the lie.

While there may be relief in the sweets she can put in her mouth, her eyes are still only partly open, and her mouth when closed to swallow her food is curved in a slight frown. But it was the best she could do in the chaos around her, for in a situation where she could not determine her survival all she could do was try to keep her soul afloat.

The silence of her solitude splits from the familiar whoosh of an elevator, to which her head perks up with flashing eyes, facing to the center of the floor.

Ahead of Kokei from the central hub of the four-room floor, an elevator pad descends from the upper level, carrying the one other being in the house, dressed in her formal blazer and neatly combed amber hair.

Excited from a presence, a smile lights up on Kokei's face and she places the cupcake which she had been eating from back on the tray closest to her to keep track so she could use her free hand to wave while calling, "Dana!"

As the elevator pad reaches the middle floor and integrates into the surface, concluding its trip, Dana perks her head up and glances at Kokei. Her dim lime green eyes remain partly open in fatigue, and she weakly waves her hand with a mild, "Hey," before approaching the dining hall.

Both of the inhabitants in the same room at last, Dana exhaustedly glances at the kitchen next to the dining room with the movements of a sleepy goblin. She sighs softly and inquires with little energy in her voice, "Did Medit buy any Royx? God I could really go for a quad-inject, honestly I don't care if it tastes like 'that' tap water."