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There were lots of guys, and even some girls around, which was pretty weird to Yvette. Yet, as she peered throughout the kitchen, she couldn't see even a hint of her friend there. Letting out a tiny squeak of a sigh, she attempted to enter into the kitchen without being noticed. Normally she'd be up for some sort of small talk, but after such a strange dream, she just wanted to get herself something sweet to eat, then be done with it. She held one arm up towards her chest, hoping to cover her relatively skimpy top up so she'd be even less noticeable. All the faces were familiar, but that was because they had all been at the same school forever. She didn't see too many people she knew very well though. Andeon was there, seeming to flirt in a rather strange fashion as he spun his target in the air a bit. It did not seem to be very successful. She also noted a small gathering of people around a particular table. She managed to wedge herself through the people and read the note card.

If it weren't for the fact she was looking for a quick and sweet fix, she might have taken the card on its offer. Just as carefully as before, she wedged her way out of the crowd again and began to look through some various cabinets for something sweet to eat.

The taste of blood was still reeking in Pierrette's mouth. She had woken up to find that she had been chewing on the inside of her cheek. It hurt, but that wasn't what bothered her. It had been that dream..

Walking into the kitchen in her pajamas, with her hair not even up in her pigtail, she looked around. It seemed like people were having a party, and they were all discussing weird dreams.

"Biting?" her eyes widened so much that the dark bags underneath them were almost not noticeable. "All of you, too...? I'm so hungry, I'm sorry..."

She apologized to no-one in particular as she read over the notecard. It looked like she said a quiet prayer of gratitude, with one hand over her stomach as she wrote her name down.

Still obsessed by his unexpected encounter with the demonic bug (who somehow had been given the name Snuzzles without him knowing), it took a few seconds for the other event to sink in.
Arastoo had mentally dissociated himself from his nightmare; though vivid, it wasn’t terribly unlikely to witness the most extreme and wrong interpretations of one’s desire (in that case, a sudden craving for raw meat). He hadn’t felt any qualm in actually ordering some. His body asked for meat, that was all there was to it. However, the fact such a dream had been shared by several strangers at once was extremely unlikely. Although there was a large number of students invading the kitchen at this precise hour…

… who cares about silly whims of the subconscious? There was that friggin’ mutant bug still around. He saw it. THAT was material. And alive. And then, he went pretty much on auto-pilot.
“Good morning, miss, hello, miss. Yes, we’re all angry as well. I mean, hungry. Have you seen that bug? This big? 16 legs – maybe less – with a way too big jaw? Pale? Somewhat squished, probably?” he asked at everybody and nobody in particular, holding his hands only separated by the approximative length of the "thing". Though he still eyed the pink-haired guy who was there right before him. He knew something, he had to. Screw imaginary cannibalism, that aberration of nature and science tried to devour his goddamn cheek through.

Nodding to Kirin, Fallon finished up the next two orders, passing plates to Arastoo and Mason. Her eyes tracked Yvette's every move as she walked through the kitchen, cautious of where she might lead. Fallon could handle very, very brief entrances into her space, but she could not let anyone touch her food or the stove before she gave them permission. It made her head explode. When Pierette entered, she gave the fellow French-girl a warm smile, immediately peeking to see what she ordered. Steak tartare? Of course. She was a girl of good taste.

Heading back to the stove, Fallon tuned in and out of the conversation. She had no intention of discussing weird dreams of any number of the odd things that had happened recently. Recognizing it would force her to deal with it, and Fallon was incapable of doing so. The blood in the sink, the body in her closet, this weird dream -- they were deviations from the norm. It was all that Fallon could do to keep her tenuous grasp on her wits. As the conversation progressed and then someone else began to murmur about some strange creature she hadn't seen, Fallon tightened her grip on the spatula, knuckles going white. The compliment from Abeline was kind of missed, but Fallon fought to smile, failing to appreciate the uniqueness of the words.

Andeon picked a bad time to be a plucky ********. When Fallon realized what he had done, she snapped. She stalked over to where he sat by Kirin and did the thing that her mind demanded. Her hand whipped out, and she more or less b***h-slapped Andeon with the greasy end of her spatula. "Stop ******** with me, Andeon," she said. "Seriously." It was awkward. It was a mood killer. And Fallon was not ******** apologizing. Andeon should know better. Moving back to the stove, she took three deep breaths, washed the spatula, and began to cook the next set of steak and eggs, vein on her neck pulsating. Andeon was a friend. But he was still a dumbass. No one was spared from Fallon's crazy.

Stir, stir, stir.

"... Yes," Pierrette weakly nodded as she sat down at the table. "It's scary that we all had the same dream." She looked up at Fallon and offered her a tired smile.

"I tried steak tartare at home once. It was okay... but after a dream like that, I think it would make me feel better. Especially if I don't like it again..."

Pierrette's eyes widened when Andeon got slapped by a spatula and rebuffed by another pretty girl.

"Wow..." she mused. "It's not bad enough that you're having bad dreams, you're having a bad morning, too. Fallon, you can cook his steak first. If he's not having a good morning, maybe he should at least eat?"

Then her eyes turned to Arastoo. Her eyes widened, and she held her hands to her mouth in shock.

"You mean, there's really a big bug like that wandering around?!"

Okay, now that half-healed wound was enough to grab Kirin's attention. "Alright, I'll bite," he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes the only indication that the pun was intentional. "Shared dreams could be explained away by drugging our food or water, gas through the air vents, or brainwashing us in our sleep. How are there giant face-eating bugs? Do we blame a crazy science department?"

Hmm, was that too far-fetched? BP was obnoxiously proud of its gifted students, after all, and the amazing programs offered to those students. Maybe the science nerds were breeding mutant animals in their labs?

Bug? Subconscious cannibalism? What?

Nihls, who had been half buried in the refrigerator, banged his head with an pronounced thud at the ongoing, and several references to what sounded a little like his own dream.
After accidentally turning the fridge light off briefly with his head, he emerged with an even more stunned expression than his usual one, blinking around at the others, and holding a half forgotten pack of bacon in his other hand.
"...I'm sorry." He apologized for the intrusion onto the chaotic tangle of conversation. "...Dreams about cannibalism? I had a dream sort of like that. Like something out of an horror novel."