"Ughhhhh," she sighs, leaning into him like that will somehow fix this problem. "Can we just cheat and have you make me some ration bars or something, is that a thing we can do."

"I don't know how. ...I could learn." Pause. "Twelve of the plants offered to do that."

Giggle. "Of course they did. Well, guardian of the plants? Would it be okay for us all to be lazy and have one of them just make me a snack, even though that's kind of inefficient?"

"They cannot easily generate matter outside their vats like this." Without hurting themselves, he doesn't add. There are collection mechanisms the humans invented so the plants can deposit their production in specialised containers or at specialised locations, rather than creating things wherever they want all willy nilly. The restriction isn't fundamental but it's there for a good reason.

...well, a good reason for the plants, which the humans hit upon accidentally while trying to make their work more long-term efficient, but he's not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I will go fetch some."

"Oh, that's right, there wouldn't even be collectors set up here, would there." Because of course, this facility is just for healing the plants. "I knew that. I'm just an idiot and got distracted by how you cheat. Yes, of course, they should absolutely not make anything without the equipment to help them. I can go grab lunch the normal way now, if it'll take a while and we already have to unhug?"

"...yes. Fine. That works."

"Okay. And thanks!" She pats him and then yes she can go care for her physical needs and stuff.

The girl from earlier—Elendira, Nai said—walks into the kitchen shortly after Yvette does. She leans against the doorframe and folds her arm, again in a position that looks a little bit too adult for her childlike appearance.

........ She feels like this is going to go poorly.

But also like she loses if she shows weakness.

"Hello again, Elendira. Would you like anything? I was making myself a sandwich but I can just as easily make another while I've got everything out."

She tsks. "No. I don't need to eat." ...that much. Any. Not that much.

"That sounds convenient, I'm jealous. Do you ever just for fun, though?"

She furrows her eyebrows. "No. That'd be a waste of time."

"I mean, sure, but a lot of fun things are technically a waste of time and resources. But people deserve nice things anyway."

Yvette finishes assembling her sandwich of (synth) cheese and fried tofu and various synthetic equivalent to vegetables that she has never actually eaten the originals of in her life.

"You sure you don't want anything? It's all already out."

"I'm sure," she says, between gritted teeth. "You're so nice," she adds, with the intonation of an insult.

"I don't see any reason not to be," she says, with a shrug, putting all of the sandwich fixings away.

Also, it's kind of entertaining to be this nice to someone who clearly wants to pick a fight with her. Changing the field of battle to something more favorable, or something.

"Is that it? Is that what it takes to have Master Knives like someone? Being nice?" There's an edge—a few edges, actually—to her voice. Like someone who has tried to do something so desperately and failed every time and now sees someone else waltz in and do it like it's nothing and steal it from them at the same time. It's dangerous, and it's jealous, and it's terribly, almost unbearably sad.

.... Aw. Well, now she feels actual sympathy for her. Everyone's had to deal with their crush not liking them back, at some point in time. ... Well. Humans have to, anyway. Most humans. She guesses some just don't have that problem, and they are lucky bastards. She is not one of those, she has absolutely had to deal with having a crush and that crush not liking her back. It sucks. Anyway, yes.

"He does seem to like it, but. ... I mean, I don't know very much about you, but you already seem very self assured and powerful. You're not even stuck eating like I am, what do you need his approval for?"

"What else would I have? Humans?"

Yvette munches her sandwich and tilts her head. Hoo boy. Minefield conversation.

"I was thinking more along the lines of how you have intrinsic worth and value and don't need anyone's approval to justify a damn thing. But it's like food for you, right? I mean, if you liked food. Nice, pleasant, you deserve it if you want it, but not required."

She walks over to the kitchen counter, hops onto a stool, and starts making herself a sandwich.

She beams, but doesn't keep pushing. This person seems very, very touchy, and like she needs to be handled with care. Which sometimes involves not handling at all. Instead, she'll just munch her sandwich in (companionable?? maybe???) silence.

"I don't understand," she says, with her mouth full. "You're human. I'm more. I have my own gate!"

This is the most high stakes lunch break she has ever had in her life.

"Oh, you do? That's really cool, congrats. ... I'm afraid I don't understand either, though, what's your question?"

"Why he likes you more. Why he pays attention to you. Why he listens to you and wants to, to," she sobs, "s-spend time with you—"

And that's enough conversation with this human, she jumps off the stool and runs away.

... That's fair, she wouldn't want to cry in front of someone she doesn't like, either.

She does want to give her a hug, though.