fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room; Friday Morning [11/16].

Even if it weren't for the particular way Fandom worked its magic, Astrid would have woken up in a different bed than the one she fell asleep in and not be surprised. She wouldn't be surprised that her mother was no where to be found, either. It happened all the time, and she was just used to it, really. A quick glance out the window showed her that she wasn't in California or Mexico this time. It didn't look like Paris or Amsterdam, either, so...someplace new. And that made her smile a little because new places were exciting, even if she didn't like the snow as much as warm weather and sunshine.

The hostel or whatever it was where they were staying seemed nice, too, but Astrid was hungry, so she got dressed and found the common room, opening up the refrigerator to see what they had available to eat. It was much better stocked than she was used to, as well, so another thrill of excitement went through her as she spotted some eggs, some butter, some cheese. Omelets! Those were easy! She pulled a chair away from the table so that she could use it to help her reach the stove, after digging around for some pots and pans and utensils, and then she got to work.

So nobody mind the seven year old sidled up to the stove on a chair, making herself an omelet. She was actually kind of an expert at this.

[[because apparently I have to post everyone and I finally got a break in work. Open common room is open!! ]]

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Norman... wasn't an expert at it, so he would have been quietly impressed by Astrid's skill at the stove, if he wasn't so busy being sullen and kind of loner-ish. And he would have gotten away with it too, if he hadn't been so hungry. Sure, the room he'd woken up in this morning was upstairs, but there hadn't been anything especially exciting in the fridge there, so the plan had been to go outside and maybe spend some of his allowance at the Witchy Wiener or something.

If, uh, if this place even had a Witchy Wiener.

He couldn't help but notice the smell of something cooking on his way down the stairs, though, and paused to peer curiously into the common room to investigate. He lingered in the door for a minute, frowned a little, and then made his way in. Casually. To raid the fridge.

Just in case the littler kid had made extra, maybe.

Edited 2018-11-17 00:39 (UTC)

Astrid glanced over when the other kid entered the room, with more than just a little bit than mild interest. There weren't usually a whole lot of other kids where she and her mother wound up staying, so it was kind of a novel thing for her. She turned back to check on her eggs for a moment before going watch to watch him as he moved toward the fridge.

"Hi," she offered after a moment, then caught her lip between her teeth as she went to caaaaareefffullly flip the omelet in the pan.

Edited 2018-11-17 01:08 (UTC)

Norman glanced casually over his shoulder to see who else had walked into the common room. And then paused and looked around a little more thoroughly, realizing that he was the only one in here.

Oh.

"Uh, hi," he replied, looking back toward her as she went to flip the omelet. "What are you making?"

And were you new? You must be new. People who knew better didn't talk to him if they could help it.

"An omelet," Astrid informed him, shrugging a shoulder as she pushed it on the pan a little. And then she frowned, because she realized she sort of had just taken the food from the fridge without thinking that it might have, you know, belonged to someone else. And now she looked worried.

"Is that...I thought it would be okay. I can buy more it if it's not."

She's have to...find out where Ingrid was first, though, or at least her purse, but she'd figure something out, she always did.

Norman watched her for a few seconds, and then he shrugged.

"Nobody else was eating it," he settled on. "Food's here to be eaten, right?"

He had no idea for sure, but that seemed to make sense.

"Right," Astrid agreed, more to convince herself than to agree with the boy, really. "If they didn't want it eaten, they should have....put a note on it, or something. But I don't know the, um...rules here yet. I just got here."

And she still wasn't sure where this was, except that it was probably still in the States, going off of the little details.

"Me too," Norman offered. "It seems quiet, though."

He liked that, at least partly, because it meant there were fewer people to look at him strangely.

"If the rules were really strict, I think maybe they would probably at least try to make sure we knew them already, right?"

"Or put up signs," Astrid agreed with a nod. If someone didn't want you doing something, they could always just put up a sign, her mother always said, but then she'd also smile and wink and ignore whatever sign was right in front of them. The thought made Astrid smile at her omelet a little, though there was a sadness in there, too, a little tug of worry.

What if she doesn't come back this time?

What if Astrid was going to be stuck in this place?

She shook her head a little, tried not to think about it, reached over to turn down the heat on the stove before going to slide her breakfast onto a plate she'd grabbed and set aside.

And then she considered the boy for a second.

"Did you want one, too?"

Norman blinked, genuinely surprised by the offer.

She was definitely new.

"Maybe... when you're done eating?"

He didn't want her breakfast to get cold while she was making his, and there was probably something in the fridge he could help himself to in the meantime.

Maybe.

His stomach growled loudly in reply to that decision, right there.

Astrid's eyebrows shot up at that stomach growl, yes, wide eyes skeptically darting to the boy and struggling to keep from giggling a little.

"Just take this one," she said, setting aside the pan on a cooler burner before climbing down off her chair to get more eggs. "It's okay; I don't mind."

He obviously needed it more.

"Oh... um." Norman had a few seconds of absolute quiet confusion before he caught himself and gave the girl a little, uncertain smile. "Thanks. I'm not much of a cook."

His mom still generally did the cooking. Or on days that the entire family regretted, his dad.

But Astrid just shrugged, collecting the next round of ingredients in her arms and setting them up on the counter. "I cook for my mom sometimes, too," she offered, if that helped him feel a little better about it.

It... actually kind of did. Norman reached for the plate, smiled a little at the contents, and then picked up a fork, too.

"So you like cooking?"

Astrid's shoulders lifted for a moment, falling back down again before she climbed back up on the chair to start the next one. "Not really," she admitted. "It's just something you have to do sometimes."

"Oh..." And now Norman was wondering if maybe he ought to learn how to do anything more fancy than a can of soup. "Well, it's a good skill to have, too."

Second Floor Common Room; Friday Morning [11/16].

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