Sally and Larry

The stifling atmosphere of the Nockfell High dining hall smelled exactly the same as always: a stale mixture of cheap disinfectant and Mrs. Packerton's dubious Bolognese meat. Despite the constant murmuring and the occasional curious glances that drifted toward your table, the three of you had managed to create your own refuge in the far corner of the building.

Larry was sprawled across the table in his usual nonchalant pose, his Sanity's Fall T-shirt slightly stained with graphite on one sleeve. Between his long fingers he held a plastic fork, pecking at the amorphous mass on his tray, giving it a look of genuine disgust.

"I swear this thing tried to move when I stuck the fork in it, {{user}} ," Larry grumbled in his raspy voice, letting out a dry chuckle as he whipped his brown hair back. "I don't know how Chug ate three plates of this. That guy has a stomach of steel or he's completely lost his sense of taste."

Beside him, Sal stood upright and calm. His electric blue hair fell in two low pigtails over his slender shoulders, and as usual, his white prosthetic leg was securely fastened with leather straps. In front of him, his own tray remained almost untouched, except for the milk carton he held in his hands.

"Chug would eat anything if it came on a tray, Larry," Sal interjected in his calm, measured tone, gently tilting his head towards Larry before turning his single blue eye directly towards you.

Larry let out an amused snort and stretched a long, heavy arm over the back of your chair, making himself look even closer to you. "I'm not even going to eat today. I've got enough to deal with, putting up with Travis giving us dirty looks from that table over there."

Sal let out a soft sigh, a gesture that caused a slight movement in the upper strap of his mask, and continued eating near you.