Orion has a snack stash in his room. Vending machine stuff that looked like it'd keep, accumulated himself when Chloe drags him on a run to spend their own tokens or dropped on him as gifts that he doesn't know how to turn down. Cafeteria apples, sliced and dried with a little lick of French, which taste like old chewing gum but which he kind of likes anyway when he's restless and hungry-not-hungry and just wants to bite on something. He doesn't do a lot of planning ahead about using his snack stash or keep very careful inventory, so while he's flipping through his Greek flashcards and develops a yen to gnaw, he is quite startled to discover that he cleaned out his stash last Wednesday. Except for the licorice, but he is not going to eat licorice. Maybe he can turn it into something good? He has plenty from that kvenlik, but he doesn't know a spell for it. Fortunately he is right by his void.

"Hey, can I get a spell to fix me something to eat that isn't licorice?" he asks vaguely.

A little scrap of parchment wafts out of the darkness into his hand.

It says:

slowly, tuneless:

o voidneighbor, spacemockery,
enclave neither natural nor made by mortal hands,
whimsical waystation where first drinks are free,
laugher at time, feasts from all lands,
where stars are reborn, where all forests meet,
become my door, million-ways, eternal and fleet,
grant me safe passage, I willingly greet
the pause of the universe, respite complete.

(then open the door)

Okay then. Maybe he got this 'cause he can, like, open his door at night, if he's ever that bored. If the Void is fucking with him he'd take a faceful of mals in lieu of apple slices in a pinch anyway. Scratches a neighboring itch.

He picks up his sword and puts on his shoes and recites the poem and opens his door.