Chihiro would have been hard pressed to name why she found the dining room unnerving, even beyond the fact it was filled with prepared food and no apparent chefs handling the preparation. There was no doubt in her mind that yes, those of them currently here were allowed to and encouraged to freely access the area, since food was one of the basic necessities most people required, but she still hesitated. She could almost hear her father telling her not to worry, something about having credit cards and cash. What looked like a roast bird of some kind on a platter had her recollecting her mother biting into a similar feast, telling her it was delicious, that she needed to try some.

Both recollections left her feeling deeply uncomfortable. That hadn't been right, whatever had happened, because it hadn't been meant for them. Yet all the food here was meant for those of them who worked here either by choice or by being pulled in through a rift. If she'd understood properly, that was the case.

Her stomach growled while she continued to hesitate, hands held at the level of her stomach, glancing over her shoulder and shivering at the sight of another of those bugs gnawing at a table leg. They were supposed to do something about those, too, weren't they?

Even as the thought occurred to her, she heard a heavy plop on the countertop. Whipping her head around, Chihiro came near face-to-face with a temporal insect that had crashed down in the middle of the roasted bird tray. She threw her hands up and yelped as she stumbled backward, the insect waving its heavy claws at her in a territorial display of warning as it started to eat. Surprisingly, it didn't appear to be gnawing on the roast bird so much as the platter.

Chihiro's ponytail whipped back and forth as she looked around for anything to use to deal with the insect, shifting her weight from foot to foot while swallowing down the unhappy noises she wanted to make. A silver serving tray cover down the countertop caught her attention. Darting toward it, Chihiro hefted it between both hands and raced back to slam it down over the insect and the roasted bird alike. The insect thrashed around underneath, throwing itself at the tray cover, Chihiro doing her best to keep leverage on the cover to hold it down. It shook and clattered under her hands while she threw an arm over it and clung on, not sure what step two in her master plan of action was at that point.

"Now what am I going to do — gah!" The cover shoved up, scrabbling claws poking out from under the edge. Chihiro batted at them with one hand. "Stop! Get back inside!"

Where was a trash compactor when she needed it?

[ Once she'd figured out the problem with squishing or stabbing the bugs was the acid-like fluids they splattered everywhere, Chihiro had carefully experimented with how to mitigate this problem.

Her careful experimentation went something like this: scramble for a pitcher of water in the kitchens and pour it on her leg after splattering one of the insects nearly on accident. It'd hurt, but the water and scrubbing with a towel made it stop, and so she searched for a big pot and filled it with water at one of the sinks.

Having already run into the problem of not speaking the same languages as those others she's casually brushed by here... Chihiro threw polite caution to the wind and starts "helping" by dumping water on people splattered by bug-juice when she sees them.

You may not need that water. You may be entirely fine. But she thought she saw something and trying to ask what had happened if they don't both speak Japanese is a hassle, so have a ten year old dowsing some or all of you in cool water and holding up a towel. ]

I'm sorry, but I thought I saw some of the bug juice get on you. Here, this is for wiping it off, okay?

[ She'll shove that towel out after pantomiming wiping down her arm if the person she's just thrown water on doesn't seem to understand her language.

... You're all... so welcome............... ]

[ You can toss me a wildcard or tag in asking for me to randomise a scenario for us! ]