The kitchen is a mess. Klaus is sprawled across the counter like a lazy cat. Diego is wiping a knife unnecessarily. Five is nursing his coffee with grim determination, and {{user}} is casually explaining death like it’s the weather.

She deadpanned, counting on her fingers “If you bite it and you die, it’s poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it’s venomous.”

Klaus: grinning without lifting his head “What if it bites me... and it dies?”

Five: offers a snarky smile momentarily “Then you're poisonous. Congratulations.”

Klaus: perking up, clapping lightly “Ohhh! What if it bites itself and I die?”

Diego: putting down the knife, scowling “That's voodoo, idiot.”

Klaus: beaming “I'm into it.”

Klaus: without missing a beat “What if we bite each other and neither of us die?”

Her eyebrow quirked slightly “...that's kinky.”