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.

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Comments

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

"I'm not quite sure what 'semi-skimmed' is though, but milk should still be milk," Ichabod said, referring to the jug Edward was now holding. "But I have no idea how to boil water for tea.

[doesnotkneel]

"Surely there's a kettle someplace around here," Edward said, picking through the cupboards in search of a cup. "Or don't they teach you lot that sort of thing?"

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

"If I had found anything resembling a kettle, as well as fire for heating, I would not be looking for assistance," Ichabod quipped. "Everything here seems to involve the pressing of buttons, so I'm almost expecting there to be a button for fire somewhere.

He turned the tap water on, because he had figured out water taps earlier this morning when examining the bathroom.

[doesnotkneel]

"I suppose you could always--"

Go outside and find firewood, he'd wanted to say, but the water had stopped him in his tracks. "...What manner of witchcraft is that?"

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

Ichabod looked up. "Water from a tap. I found it out this morning. A wonderful invention, I have to say."

[doesnotkneel]

Edward looked dubious, but he came looking anyway. "How d'you suppose they push it up?" he asked.

How much would someone pay for such a thing, he wondered?

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

"I have no idea," Ichabod replied. "And you can change it from cold to hot, but unfortunately not boiling." He felt a little proud that he had been able to figure this out himself.

[doesnotkneel]

"Must be a mighty apparatus they've built here, then," Edward said. He opened the lower cupboards underneath the tap and squinted.

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

Ichabod crouched next to him and peered into the cupboard. "There are only pipes here," he observed.

[doesnotkneel]

"Strange," Edward replied, tilting his head. But that yielded little other information. "There must be something further down, where these pipes lead."

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

"Of course." The pipes had to lead somewhere after all. "I take it you didn't expect to arrive at a place quite like this either?"

[doesnotkneel]

"Not in the slightest," Edward said, looking up from the plumbing to meet Ichabod's eyes. "Wandered off one night and found myself stumbling onto this island. How about yourself, Ichabod?"

He was not really the 'Mr. Crane' type, Edward.

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

"I was under the impression that the school was on an island off the west coast of England, and that getting there didn't involve time travel."

The use of titles seemed to have gone out of fashion somewhere during the last 200 years, but Ichabod was a little surprised that someone from his own time had picked up that habit. Was it something about the lower classes?

"So, you didn't come here to get an education?"

[doesnotkneel]

Less a lower classes thing and more an Edward thing, truth be told. There was a reason he habitually got into fights with whatever upper classlings managed to wind up in one of his favorite taverns.

"No, though I won't balk at the chance," he said.

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

Lucky for Edward Ichabod would be unlikely to frequent those taverns or get into fights.

"What was your occupation in Bristol?"

[doesnotkneel]

"Does it matter much now?" If he sounded confrontational, well-- Ichabod just about breathed upper class, he did, and Edward wasn't about to stand for any insinuation that he wasn't worth his time.

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

Ichabod didn't know why Edward was being defensive, but he wasn't going to push the topic. "If you say so. I came here to prepare for entering the university at Oxford. My father is a professor there."

[doesnotkneel]

"Sounds like he's a man of means, then," Edward said idly. "Planning to follow in his footsteps?"

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

"I am," Ichabod replied, trying not to let any defensiveness show. His intention had been to smooth the differences of social class between them, while Edward seemed intent on the opposite.

[doesnotkneel]

"I'm not planning to follow in the footsteps of mine," Edward volunteered. "But to each their own."

[not-called-icky.livejournal.com]

"I assume you have your reasons not to," Ichabod said, a little curtly. "As I have mine."