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Post by Jökull Eriksson on May 14, 2011 22:01:08 GMT -5
It had been a long day of classes and Jökull was looking forward to dinner in the school café. It wasn’t that his courses were difficult, he had little trouble with them, but sitting in a desk all day long started to wear him down. By the time dinnertime rolled around he left his dormitory in a hurry to get there as soon as possible.
Although it was not his first time there he still had to marvel at café when he entered the double doors. It seemed more like a higher class restaurant than a school cafeteria. The oak tables were covered in a light coloured tablecloth adorned with the school crest with a little lamp hanging above each one for additional lighting. The chairs were high quality made and comfortable to sit on, cushioning the student’s bottom to allow for a more enjoyable meal. The only thing missing were the waiters, but even the buffet and ordering area were far superior to any other school in the area.
The food served was of the highest class as well, fit for the royalty that had once attended the school and more than enough for students now. Even Jökull, coming from a well to do family, was in awe at each meal served and rich flavours that danced on his tongue. Nothing at all like the traditional hákarl his father was so fond of back home.
He hurried to the lineup so he could get his meal. Browsing the evening menu he settled on the 8oz steak with a side of Greek salad and crème brulee for dessert. He picked up his food and walked away from the queue, carefully balancing everything so nothing would fall. A few steps later he paused and looked around the café in search of a place to sit. It seemed that he hadn’t arrived early enough; most of the tables were already taken by someone. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to sit with some stranger and make polite conversation, so Jökull patiently scanned the room. Eventually he spotted an empty table way in the back and made a beeline for it. He was in such a hurry to get to it before anyone else could that he didn’t notice another person coming onto his path before he all but crashed into them.
“Oomph!” Startled, he clutched his tray tighter and tried to get his footing. A bit of salad slopped over the side of the tray and landed on his sweater, but otherwise everything stayed relatively clean. Once he was sure that nothing was broken he turned to the person he’d bumped into. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He pushed his bangs aside and looked more closely at their face. Wait. They seemed familiar…
“Do I know you from somewhere?”
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Post by Marin Sigrunardóttir on May 14, 2011 23:33:30 GMT -5
Within every entry to a new room in the campus, Marin always readied herself to be amazed. The intricate details and decorations were masterfully put together to create a sense of grandeur. She couldn't discern which room looks better than the other; they were all equally luxurious to the point she still couldn't believe that she was the resident student. The girl inwardly chided herself for being so childish.
Marin was a little more bashful and reserved in the cafeteria, though. The bevy of students seemed to pay no attention to her and chatted away their businesses in private discourses. However, she didn't want to be part of their attention at all and she knew that standing around awkwardly would attract something unnecessary. The most logical thing to do in a cafeteria was to eat and so Marin swiftly moved away after the revelation.
With all honesty, the food intimidated her. The smell was heavenly yet so foreign and unwelcoming. She knitted her eyebrows as she scrutinized the food to the point she had no idea where she was going. Consequently, she bumped into an unlucky fellow and dropped her orange juice as well as spill a few pebbles of corn. "O-Oh---" She muttered with a soft tone of dismay. Yet she straightened herself up and then hastily bowed her head slightly to the boy's apology, "No no... I am sorry for bumping i-into you. I-It's quite alright."
As if she wasn't flustered enough, it became evident that the boy seemed to recognize her. Once she forced out a response, it sounded something like, "Uh... I---U-Umm..."
The girl blinked and then tilted her head, as if staring at him from a different angle would speed up the analysis. Goodness. He was that boy from that rich family who owned that vacation house near her farm. The curious girl thought they were permanent residents and thought it would be nice to greet them with some homemade apple danishes. Yet she had the tiniest feeling that she wasn't welcome in their abode either.
"A-Ah... I believe.... I-I think I have met you. I think. I-I'm not so sure but I do remember someone looking like you who stayed at a vacation house in Torshavn." In a matter of seconds, she placed a hand on her neck to indicate herself, "I-I'm Marin. If that... helps."
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