"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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((Kiziah Saraki continued from A Time to Love.))

Kizi hadn't really been the best partner as they walked. She had settled to scraping the bag across the floor, grunting and panting as her chief forms of communication, hoping that she wasn't unknowingly doing damage to her back or anything like that. She was in this for the long haul, after all. She hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings, implicitly trusting Lili to be the vanguard, the watcher.

When she looked up, as Lili opened the doors to the cafeteria, Kizi could not help but notice that the...quality of the building had dramatically improved. The architecture had more integrity. Any mess and chaos was fresher, rather than emblematic of a more intractable long-term succumbing to nature. Things looked more salvageable here. More civilised. Maybe there was a hint of confirmation bias at play here, but damn, this boded well. Had some sort of symbolic resonance with her.

She dragged the bag over to the nearest table, following Lili, the shotgun falling loose and almost landing on her foot. She pulled her foot back with a yelp, narrowly missing the din of the shotgun hitting the floor. Kizi had refused offers of help. Probably not the smartest move, but, well, she'd been too exhausted dragging the bag to really think logically. A kind of catch-22. Can't think logically when carrying such a heavy bag, can't realise that without being able to think logically. Kizi picked up the shotgun, resting it delicately on the table, before sitting down, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Okay. Yeah. Posters."

"So..." She was speaking slowly, every other word punctuated with a cacophony of irregular breaths. "So, yeah. Two ways. That I can see us doing this. One is a longer...more, like, a manifesto thing. Like, we say what we're doing. What we believe in. All that. Or, we can just do...a kind of. Quick thing. Like, 'we're not playing, we're making a safe place', lay out the rules." She blinked. If they laid out the rules, they might as well write the manifesto.

"Oh, I don't know. The point is, we have to mention the 'safe place' aspect. Not the mutual suicide thing Penelope mentioned. If it comes to that..." Kizi swallowed. "Fine. Well, no. Not fine. But, okay, better than the alternative. But people won't sign up for that sort of thing. We have to keep the hope of dragging this game out alive."
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Minus Something · The Cafeteria