5th Floor Common Room, Sunday Morning

[doesnotkneel]

It wasn't unknown to Edward, this strange feeling he'd woken up with: as if he was aware of the entirety of the room and the world beyond it. The last vestiges of a dream, no doubt, which left things looking and smelling more roselike than they really were. But with his groggy head on he'd stumbled out of the room, driven in some sense by purpose embedded in that dream.

There was a large white cupboard sitting in the middle of the common area that drew him to it. It seemed as if it were the most important object in the room, and in his dream-drunk state he saw no reason not to pursue the feeling.

It lasted until he'd opened the cupboard and seen its contents. A blast of air as cold as winter smashed him right in the face, leaving him blinking and squinting. "What--"

Then he realized three things: one, that he was hungry; two, that this cupboard seemed to contain at least some food; and three, that he wasn't able to identify a single bit of it.

So's if anyone on the fifth floor woke up to find a bedraggled Welshman taking various objects out of the fridge and putting them back in again, well, that was why.

[[ open! ]]