Nina (
bookbeltof_love) wrote in
fandomhighdorms2019-09-23 06:14 am
Entry tags:
3rd Floor Common Room, Monday Morning
Was Nina messing with tradition?
Nina was super messing with tradition!
Partly because she'd woken up early, confirmed that everyone was as they should be (and that Foomy was no longer… what… he'd been…) and then been unable to get back to sleep and partly because after last week's sprinkles, she'd decided that enough was enough and that clearly Wayne needed a break!
So she got to the common room first!
She was, after all, perfectly capable of making delicious and healthy pancakes and waffles, and sausage and bacon and scrambled eggs herself and cutting up fruit really took no effort at all and if it wasn't as fancy as Wayne's quiche, well, she was confident that it was at least tasty.
Out of consideration for what Tisarwat had told her about gloves and their properness, just in case the other girl showed up, Nina was cooking while wearing gloves. Not her pretty, fancy ones. But a simple black pair, ones that wouldn't show a stain too badly, if it came to that.
Nina hummed as she bopped along to a song only in her head.
[Tradition usurped with permission from
howareyanow! Open breakfast is open!]
Nina was super messing with tradition!
Partly because she'd woken up early, confirmed that everyone was as they should be (and that Foomy was no longer… what… he'd been…) and then been unable to get back to sleep and partly because after last week's sprinkles, she'd decided that enough was enough and that clearly Wayne needed a break!
So she got to the common room first!
She was, after all, perfectly capable of making delicious and healthy pancakes and waffles, and sausage and bacon and scrambled eggs herself and cutting up fruit really took no effort at all and if it wasn't as fancy as Wayne's quiche, well, she was confident that it was at least tasty.
Out of consideration for what Tisarwat had told her about gloves and their properness, just in case the other girl showed up, Nina was cooking while wearing gloves. Not her pretty, fancy ones. But a simple black pair, ones that wouldn't show a stain too badly, if it came to that.
Nina hummed as she bopped along to a song only in her head.
[Tradition usurped with permission from

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"I cooked the way we cook at home," she said, offering over a perfect looking meal with a bit of everything on it. "If that's what you mean???????????????"
So... yes. Yes, it was.
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Not that she necessarily wanted to learn, her own skills were fine, but she was deeply curious.
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Yes, but did you really want to learn how to make French Toast out of pork, sugar, and cabbage, Sabine? Did you?
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"Because I don't think I could do that," Sabine said.
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"Well, like, you don't know until you try??????????????????" Nina suggested.
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She could go on for hours about chemicals and what reaction you'd get when you put them together, which was why this method of cooking didn't make sense to her, even if she appreciated it.
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She really liked explosives.
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"We still find ways to kill each other," she said, which really, didn't seem to matter how advanced the world was.
That always happened.
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Nina liked explosions just fine, really, so long as she wasn't the one being exploded.
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"I appreciate that," Sabine said, smiling.
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Nina looked amused.
"When you're not being a breezy, free girl, that is.................."
No, no she wasn't going to forget that.
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Pick up and leave because someone wanted her dead, maybe.
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Aside from side trips to a version that wasn't her own.
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