it looks like a tsunami has hit the kitchen. there's icing? batter? both? on the ceiling, don't ask how. he's got batter on his face. sol has batter... everywhere. and there was a plan to fix the lumpy looking cake to appear more presentable, had they not walked in so soon. there's dead silence in the room, blank stares for a few seconds, until a weak smile and nervous laughter; "happy birthday?"
“how in the hell...” they’re not even upset. they’re really, really not. what they are, however, is incredibly confused. their gaze flickers from the ceiling, to the walls, to sol, then to mati, then back to the ceiling. “how did it... get up there...” they remember themself after a moment, and with a shake of their head, they turn their attention back to mati. “uh. thanks. i think? no. thank you. but. how did you and sol manage that? like... it’s... on the ceiling...”















