[ It's a modest struggle between Molly and her first maggot. Caught by surprise, she shrieks at the near-miss in a manner unbefitting a uniformed officer. She'll be potentially embarrassed about it for hours (potentially because it's unlikely anyone around will question it, but just in case they do, best to be ready). She swiftly dispatches the maggot with a hefty boot, face contorting at the sight and smell. Gross.

The second and third go a bit better, with Molly having the advantage of surprise, and eventually, with the aid of a hatchet, it becomes easier than expected. It's hubris, then, that leads her to take on a few more than she should at once. By the time she dispatches the last, she's staunching a weeping wound above her elbow, hissing quietly at the pain.

She looks around, and spotting the first person she lays her eyes on, she calls from across the street. ]

Hey, excuse me!

[ Molly waves a bloody hand, gritting her teeth into a tense and pained smile. Her accent, for anyone who might be familiar, is midwest United States, quaint and sweet and kind. Suitably deceptive when you've just seen someone murder a half-dozen giant maggots. ]

Hi. Hello. Sorry to bother you. Do you have a second?

[ She hasn't been able to help herself (and she'll be sick over it later), but soon enough the allure overcomes her and Molly takes to the buffet. At first the idea had felt too incomprehensible, but after a while she's convinced herself that it's nothing that hadn't been eaten before.

Tentatively, plate in hand, she walks the display of food, occasionally using a pair of salad tongs to jab at one of the plates of organs. Eventually, she picks out a few of the more scrumptious looking morals (again, she'll be sick over it later), placing them daintily on the too-white plate, lips licked in anticipation. It's completely bonkers, true madness, but Molly isn't thinking any about that as she finds some plastic silverware, a few napkins, and a seat, staring hungrily at her first course. ]

A girl's gotta eat...

[ Even Molly's surprised how it sounds like a matter of fact coming out of her mouth. ]

3. BRAINS— thought-sharing

[ After getting over the very worst of it, Molly begins to feel the strange sensations tingling in the back of her head. When the thoughts start flowing in, they sound a bit like static. Molly passes them off as part of the same hysteria that's allowing her to consume brains in the first place, but when words begin standing out — words not in her mental voice — the static becomes more clear, although the concept less so. She knows, based on what people have told her, to expect the unexpected, but she could never have anticipated this.

Eat brains and hear thoughts? Well, maybe it's not the strangest thing she's heard. And maybe it's not even the first time she'd heard that.

Whether it's right or not to use this to her advantage can be debated later (it's not). For now, she scoops another piece into her mouth and turns her attention to trying to listen in on the thoughts of an individual, any individual, probing limits like a true investigator. ]

4. EYEBALLS— memory-sharing

[ After the brains, Molly finds herself drawn to the eyeballs. Curiosity has never meant to be sated this way, of course, but she's not the only one indulging. Other people are eating, and so she presses on, picking pairs of blues or browns, carefully popping them into her mouth but always finding them too large not to chew. It's unfortunately disgusting, but there are plenty of people who eat eyes, right? It's not culinarily impossible and—

Okay, well, there's really only so many excuses that a person can make. By now, Molly knows she's just reaching, but she's gone so far past the point of no return, she can't stop herself from taking another eye from the platter and washing it down with a glass of milk.

Thinking it works very much the same, she'll be looking into the crowd for someone to see into. ]

[ Anything goes! ]