The smell of the food should have brought a smile to his face, but he kept his mouth in a thin line as he entered the dining hall. The smell made him feel nauseous; he couldn't help but imagine what the effects of ingesting food that would conflict with his essence would be. But he had become quite good at ignoring the growing sense of nausea, so he silently made his way over to the table set aside for their little group and sat down in one of the empty seats.
He grabbed a variety of different foods. A glance around the dining hall gave him a clue on what was considered the most socially acceptable food to eat - or, at the very least, the most popular - so he made sure to grab mainly foods that he saw being eaten by other people. He grabbed a few less popular ones as well, wanting to give the illusion that he had a decent and somewhat normal sense of taste.
He grabbed one of the pastries from his plate and took a quiet bite out of it. His essence recoiled in disgust, but he forced it to deal with the influx of foreign material.
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