.::Ophelia::.
Give the fact that a din clogged the sound waves of the cafeteria, Ophelia assumed that everyone was conversing about the exciting news revealed last period. Clones? Really? Had humanity become so desperate to live that they were forcing beings into an isolated lifestyle just so they would have access to parts? It was a ridiculous and scandalous idea that Ophelia couldn’t help but be proud to be a part of. She wondered if her clone, or should she say “original copy”, was like her. Well, for her copy’s sake, she hoped so, because if the girl ever needed to replace her hair, she would end up with pink locks.
Ophelia quickly retrieved her food from the never-ending, winding lunch line. Today she decided to be a vegetarian, mostly because today’s meaty protein looked pre-digested. The vegetables didn’t look too much better, but bad meat was deadlier than bad greens, so today was a day of vegetarianism! Ophelia pulled herself away from the line with her tray of food and looked around the crowded lunchroom. Where to sit, where to sit, where to sit…Ophelia wandered through the maze of tables, gazing at individuals as she walked by. She was looking for someone with intellectual potential, and currently she was coming up short. So, out of frustration, she slammed her tray down at a random table and sat with its inhabitants.
“Hello, fellow clones,” she said with a smirk, “Fine day today, isn’t it?” With a fork and knife, she began to cut apart her broccoli, daintily placing each little bit into her mouth. She looked over at her startled lunch mates, patiently waiting for a reply.
.::Lucas::.
Lucas sat in the corner of the cafeteria, silently staring at his food. People were talking far too loudly at the moment, and he wasn’t enjoying it, but he had to eat within the confines of the lunchroom, thus he quietly waiting out the lunch period. His mind was clouded with thoughts of clones and the realization of who he really was. He wasn’t the individual he thought he was. No longer could he cherish his uniqueness because someone else out there looked just like him, except that person was real. His copy could live their life like a normal person; become whatever they wished to be. He was simply spare parts. What a sad existence that was.
His lunch no longer looked appetizing, so Lucas stared at the soggy meat indefinitely. Maybe, if he stared long enough, it would change. It would become a perfect filet mignon, something he had never tasted. Or maybe it would turn into some sort of magic mirror, revealing to him his future. Or maybe it would turn into a portal for him to climb through. He could crawl to the world where he was real. Lucas could feel the gears in his mind turn as a story slowly created itself.
(Does this work?)