fandomhighdorms | Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

After the radio had officially called the snowball fight in favor of the fourth floor, Vider had gone into town and purchased a cake to mark the occasion, which was now set up in the common room along with drinks and whatever other snacks she'd been able to scrounge up. She was, of course, willing to share with anyone from other floors who might stop by. The fourth floor dwellers were gracious victors.

((Open common room is open!))

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This wasn't Travis's common room but he was bored and didn't want to mope around his room so he'd gone out to find other people.

"Now, that's a cake," Travis said, not really sure of the occasion but knowing that the cake was definitely pretty badass. "Your birthday?"

"It's a victory cake," Vider explained. "For the snowball fight. Also, because I wanted cake."

"Oh right," Travis said, nodding. He'd been pretty damn cold for hours after that snowball fight. "This floor end up being the winner?"

"Was there ever any doubt?" Vider asked. Well, yes, there had been, because of the ice and fire powerhouses of the third floor, but. "The radio confirmed it and everything!"

"I don't think my floor even had a chance," he laughed, shaking his head. "I think there were...two of us out there. We'd have to have been robots or superheroes to win."

"So you mean you're not either of those things?" Vider asked. "In this school you can never be sure."

"Nope, just a regular, run of the mill guy," he said, shrugging. "Nothing remarkable about me."

Well, the death and coming back thing was interesting but didn't make him a superhero.

Where Vider came from, that could just mean he ate an apple.

"Well, you can still have cake," she offered.

"Thanks," he said, taking a seat before getting to the cake. "I'm Travis. I don't know if you hit me with snow yesterday or not. I got hit with a lot."

"I'm Vider," Vider said, "and I hit a lot of people, so I wouldn't rule it out."

"Was that your first snowball fight?" he wondered, kicking his feet up. "I know some people come from places where snow's not a big thing."

Vider laughed. "Not so much, no. I grew up...well, I grew up in a Lokiskin caravan, so we were nomadic, but mostly in the northern parts of the plains states. Plenty of snow, plenty of other kids around to fight with. Our battles were legendary," she joked. "What about you?"

Travis tried to follow what she was saying but the Lokiskin caravan had him curious and he almost missed her question.

"Definitely not the first time I've ever seen snow," he finally answered. "I lived out in the central part of this country. They get snow a lot during the winter. It's pretty common. I did a lot of snow shoveling in my time."

Before he'd gotten sick.

"Fortunately the snow shoveling wasn't usually my job. They preferred someone taller and stronger for that." Vider had put on some muscle since becoming a berserker, but she was still the shortest berserker anyone could ever hope to meet.

"What's a Lokiskin caravan?" Travis asked, unable to keep his curiosity at bay. "That's not something I recognize."

"It's a caravan," obviously, "of people who are devoted to the god Loki." Not that it would occur to Vider that it needed explaining, but 'Lokiskin' broke apart into 'Loki's kin,' not anything about anyone's skin.

"I've never really been that religious," he answered, scratching his cheek before finally getting up to grab some cake. "How'd you go from there to here?"

It was really, really hard not to be at least that religious in the United States of Asgard. Vider couldn't imagine someone from home not being devoted to a god.

"It's a long story," she said, and one she didn't really want to get into with Soren around, because he got weird about it for some reason, "but at the end of it, Odin made me a berserker, and for a couple of reasons no one knew what to do with me. So they sent me to boarding school while they figured it out. What about you?"

"I got sick back home and was sick for a long time." He still couldn't really bring himself to share the whole dying and coming back that easily. "Once I got better, I just had to get some space, some air. I was pretty much bedridden for awhile and that gets suffocating."

"I can see that," Vider said. "That must have been really tough. I would have gone crazy."

"I was probably too sick to really think about going crazy," he said, chuckling a bit. "But, I got better and got some space. It's all good. Well, the eels the other day were pretty nasty but overall, it's good."

"Oh, thanks," Vider said. "I was trying to forget about those."

Travis laughed. "Sorry. If it helps, I ended up stuck in a tree until Kathy came to my rescue."

"I think I had eel in my hair for days," Vider said, rolling her eyes at the memory. "Sometimes I think I should do like most berserkers and shave it off."

"What's stopping you from doing that?" he wondered. "Like your hair?"

"That, and one of the guys who was teaching me to control the frenzy pointed out that I'd have a sunburnt scalp for the rest of my days. But with the rains of whatever around here, it does get tempting."

"You'd get cold during winter too," he guessed. "Can you imagine someone dumping snow on your head yesterday if you had no hair?"

"Well, I don't really get cold," Vider said. "Berserkers tend to run hot. The frenzy's like a fire in my chest. Makes me a little space heater." She considered, then admitted, "I still wouldn't really want snow dumped right on my head."

"So, that sounds like it would be great on cold days but suck on summer days where it's already hot as crap outside," he remarked. "Pros and cons."

"I think I'll keep my hair for now," Vider decided. "Get back to me after the next time the showers run syrup, though."

Soren hadn't participated in the fight, sure, but he was perfectly willing to celebrate his floor's victory. Especially if it meant there would be cake.

"This is good," he commented, around a mouthful of said cake.

"We could have used you yesterday, you know," Vider told him. "Maybe you don't get cake." She made no move to take away his cake.

"You did well enough, considering your victory," Soren pointed out. "Plus, he's not even from our floor, and you're letting him have cake," he nodded at Travis.

"We have to be gracious to the defeated, Soren," Vider lectured, assuming a tone of mock-piety.

Soren snorted. "I would like to be in the room when you say that to Soren."

"...and the only cake the God of Biscuits had with a snow theme was too big for our floor alone," she admitted, "so we might as well let other people help us eat it. Do you think he's related to Freyr the Satisfied?"

"A good a theory as any," Soren decided. "Maybe the reason nobody else seems to come from a world where the gods exist amongst them is because they're much more subtle about it. Opening up baked goods shops and the like." Okay, now he was just being silly, mostly, but... really, anything was possible.

"A lot of them seem to have Baldur, though." Sort of. Vider wasn't really clear on the whole Jesus thing. "I don't know. If he is or isn't a god, he still makes good cake."

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Fourth Floor Common Room, Sunday Afternoon

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