"...I kinda want to hear about those. Is there a war here right now?"

"Sorta, mostly it's just my mum's people trying to keep arseholes from being arseholes."

She blinks at the swearing.

"Um. Alright, no war is good."

"It's kinda worse than war."

"Uh, how? I've read the newspapers about the front... They call it no man's land."

"Most of the world is ruled by nasty people with really dangerous powers."

"Like yours? How do they happen anyway."

"How does what happen?"

"The powers."

"Well there's this virus that, like, one out of three people have in their bodies, and really bad stress makes it turn on, and if it doesn't kill you, you're a Miracle."

"A virus! Oh man, I can't touch anyone or eat anything, what else did the bioweapon preparedness thing say!"

"It's not that contagious. And you should cat it anyway, being a Miracle is awesome."

"There is way to much weird new stuff for me to decide that yet "

"Also, I don't think you catch it from food."

"Yeah, well, the bioweapon warnings say that excess caution is better than insufficient caution."

"Well, you don't want to starve."

She bristles. "I have!"

"...One old biscuit. Well that's that. Gimmie some food."

He takes her over to the party food tables. "Maybe you should mingle for a bit."

"I don't know anybody. Also I'm bad at making friends. Mom always said so. What's your name I'm Walta?"

"Stanislav. Everyone calls me Stan."

"Makes sense."

Oh look food. Is there a line or anything? If not she'll grab something out of the way-ish.

There's a lot of cake and soft drink, also eggs for some reason.

Ooh, they have Pemberton Cola! Delicious.

...Are the eggs cooked?

To the nearest person, "Are the eggs cooked?"

"...Yeah," says the girl with the horns.

"Okay. Just seemed odd to have eggs at a birthday party, 's why I asked."

That guy who brought her here, where'd he go?