ReRun!FPE

The Feast

"Oh, how selfish of me."

Bloomie postures, blade flaring in understanding.

"What's a banquet without guests to enjoy it with?"

Claire sharpens her gaze, stars glimmering with focus.

"I would've loved for it all to myself, but there's so many flavors, so much texture... how could I ever think of having it all to myself!"

Abbie poised his fists, vines crawling around in security.

"So fine, come on then!" ∆lice tenses, stomping the ground to envelop her figure in shadow, crimson cracks rupturing on her eyes and smile before shattering into malice.

"Let's have ourselves a feast!"

.

.

.

∆lice opens a large set of doors, home to a vast dining hall of gothic architecture. It's chiseled design and richness in vanity would make kings weep, and with it their blood—furniture, curtains, and accessories dyed in amends.

Darkened skies peering from the windows cry in witness to her regicides, its sorrow patting, constant. Family trees of blood scented candles kindled in respects, a record to her slaughter, the only source of light available.

Awaiting in the middle was a long dining table covered in red cloth. Fashioned with a chandelier, plates topped with varieties of meals were prepped neatly. But the smells mixed—a warm, irresistible invitation where all preferences were welcome, where all tastes were promised.

The guests entered in acceptance, and took their separate seats as if it were their own home. Everyone sat at opposite ends; ∆lice facing Bloomie, and Abbie facing Claire.

Each eyed their meals catered towards their respective tastes: black rabbits, a stew of flesh, and live centipedes for the princess. Honey glazed ham, and roasted salmon for the snake. Tenderloin, baked bread, and fresh apple pie for the apple. And steak with jambalaya for the ribbon bearer.

Anticipation resided among licked lips and starving eyes, patiently waiting for their liege's order—setting the tone with ambient classical music before indulging in their delicacies.

Utensils carefully chimed, bites rhythmically sound, and soft murmurs conversed mutual satisfaction; the declaration of a peaceful exchange.

"So Claire, how's your day been?" Bloomie asks, the girl freezing her appetite before swallowing her food.

"It's been good, I guess."

"I guess?" She cuts herself another slice of ham. "Why do you say that?"

"Oliver."

Her mood drops at the name. "Ah... I see." But sharpens as ∆lice giggles from across, amusement masked by coughs upon notice of her glare.

"Well, I'm very sorry to hear that Claire. I promise I'll make sure to correct his behavior about it." Her apology was shallow, empty, no one reacted to her weightless words. "Though if I do forget, make sure to open my door and remind me, okay dear?"

She winks at her, annoyance furrowed into a glance before she suppressed it in favor of her meal.

"You just love hearing yourself talk, don't you?"

∆lice grins. "Who doesn't?" But drops as her guests raised their hands unanimously. Glancing away, "Touché." Until her eyes fell on Abbie.

"Anyways, what about you apple-"

"Abbie."

"Potato, potahto. How's your... little greenhouse coming along?" She plays with her food, centipedes spun and pushed by the twirls of her fork.