fandomhighdorms | Second Floor Common Room; Sunday, around Lunchtime [10/30].

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Second Floor Common Room; Sunday, around Lunchtime [10/30].

Oh, Libby was absolutely loving the candelabra that had shown up that day, and the fact that their moody lighting was made even more so by everywhere appearing just a little bit darker today. Despite still being surrounded by quite a few modern trappings, they made it exceptionally easy for her to just feel transported to a different time, in the past, long before the wonders of electricity, and she dove deep into it, spending her entire morning, curled up and cozy and diving into some epic medieval-style fantasy book to read by candlelight, to better feel like she was there.

As afternoon turned into evening, she was hoping to switch over to some nice gothic horror, but, before she did that, she'd have to take a break for lunch. So, taking a smaller of the candelabra with her so that when she swept down the hallway to the common room, she'd feel like a heroine in one of those stories, uncertain what terrors may lurk around the corner, but content to know that the worst thing she may encounter here (hopefully!) was maybe a gremlin in the shadows or some questionable leftovers in the fridge.

She didn't even bother turning on the lights in the room, enjoying working by candlelight as she put together a nice sandwich, portable so she could take it back to her room and get back to reading, with a nice mug of hot cocoa, too.

[[ open common room is definitely open! ]]

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This lighting situation had Gray struggling, but he had finally dragged himself out of bed, albeit with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders (he might miss the capes, shh), and over to the common room. Maybe food would wake him up?

Or Libby. Libby was nice, too. "Oh," he said, and it turned into a yawn. Once he'd gotten that out of the way, he said, "Good morning, Libby." Wait. "Is it still morning?"

"Not exactly," Libby informed Gray, looking over at him coming in with a smile. "But good not-exactly-morning, all the same. I was just making myself a sandwich; would you like one, too?"

"Oh," Gray said. "Oops." He sort of flumphed down in a chair into a cocoon of blanket cape. "I guess, if it's not any trouble..." He had come here for food, after all. He yawned again and asked her, "How's it going? Besides sandwiches."

"I've already got everything out," Libby gestured toward the spread of ingredients with the knife she'd been using on her own, "so it's no trouble at all. Do you like it any particular way? And..." She grinned a little, for all those yawns, "how about some coffee, too?"

She didn't drink it herself, no, but working at the clinic with the nurses? She definitely knew how to make it!

"Just...whatever's easiest," Gray told her. He wasn't feeling particularly picky today. That felt like effort. He wrinkled up his nose at the mention of coffee, though. "I only like coffee when there's lots of syrup in it. And whipped cream." Whipped cream made anything better. "It helps a little, but not that much, anyway."

"How about some cocoa, then?" Libby asked, as she started to pyt together the same, generic, expected sort of sandwich she'd made for herself. "I don't know about whipped cream, but I did seem some little mini-marshmallows."

Gray perked up slightly at the mention of hot cocoa. "Ooh, yes, please," he said. "Maybe marshmallows and whipped cream?" Gettin' wild there, Gray.

But Gray! How could you appreciate the marshmallows if you just covered them in whipped cream??

"How about this?" Libby proposed, sandwich finished, cut into quarters (out of pure havit), plated, and now handed over. "See if you can manage to stay awake through cocoa with marshmallows, and then we'll see about one with whipped cream."

Gray gasped. "Libby!" he said, mock-scandalized. "Are you proposing..." He dropped his voice like he was saying a dirty word. "Moderation?"

Then he looked down at the sandwich. "Oh, hey, fancy! Thank you!"

It was a bit less fancy and a lot more 'used to making sandwiches for small hands,' but Libby would happily take this assessment.

After she finished quirking an eyebrow at Gray, anyway. "I do believe I am," she said, no whisper here, but a defiant lift of her chin with her smirk. "Maybe you should try it. It might actually be good for you."

Gray pretended to think about it, then proclaimed, "Sounds fake," and took a bite of his sandwich.

"You do get more hot cocoa this way, too, you know," Libby offered, as she enhanced her argument by now presenting Gray with one such hot cocoa, one in which she felt she had been very generous with the mini-marshmallows to better compensate for moderation in other areas.

"Oh, this feels like home," Belle said. "With the candles. Might I join you?"

She had a book with her, of course. She nearly always did when coming into the common rooms.

[I'll be real slow but reading by candlelight was hard to pass up!]

Libby's smile at Belle was a touch wistful and envious, although there had definitely been nights of make-believe settlers and the like where she and her siblings would pretend and do a few things by firelight, more for fun than for necessity.

(Although it did help, a little, with the power bills when they did).

"Of course," she said. "How are you, Belle? Would you like a sandwich?"

"A sandwich would be lovely, thank you. But i could make it myself. Sandwiches i can manage!"

"I don't mind," Libby offered, "I've already got everything out for my own, and I'm all warmed up for optimal sandwich making."

And it was just a natural habit to make more for others, anyway.

"Do you like it any particular way? I've got some cold cuts and cheese and plenty of condiments. I'm making some cocoa, too, if you'd like some of that."

"Oh, I'm not particular about sandwiches. But I would love some cocoa. It seems like a good day for it."

"That's what I was thinking, too," said Libby, who set to the task of making Belle a sandwich that mirrored her own. "With the candelabra, I've just been all cozied up in bed reading all morning, like someone would in olden times. All that was missing was something warm to drink with it, and if I didn't grab something to eat, I might just forget to! But a sandwich is good reading food."

"Anything you can eat with one hand is good reading food," Belle agreed. "Then you can still hold the book!"

"Exactly!" Libby laughed appreciatively that Belle got it. "I should have known you'd understand!"

With that, Libby finished the sandwich, cut it into four quarters (a product of lunch prep for so many Littles, really), and put it on a plate to hand it over to Belle before getting that hot cocoa for her, too.

"So how've you been, Belle? Reading anything particularly good and interesting?"

"I found some very interesting things at the library this week," Belle told her. "Slightly frightening ones. One about a monster looking for meaning in his existence after the scientist who created him abandoned him. It's rather sad, really. And there was another about a vampire count that I've just started. What are you reading?" She asked, as she took the plate.

"And thank you for this!"

"You're welcome!" Libby nodded, feeling just pleased to have something as little as making sandwiches appreciated. "And this morning, I was just pouring through King of the Bracelets again, but I was skipping around a little, to either all my favorite parts, or just the darkest and scariest. And I have a new one...well, it's an older book, but new to me, about a spooky haunted house that I'm saving for when the sun goes down...But that one about the monster sounds like it would be a good one, even if if is sad. Sometimes, the sad ones can be some of the best ones."

"It's the perfect season for spooky things, isn't it? Especially with the candles today."

The creepy voices yesterday had added to the atmosphere in a different way.

"You'll have to let me know how the new book is."

"G'morning, Belle," Gray said from his blanket nest in one of the chairs. "Wait. No. Not morning." Time was confusing when you had no practical sleep schedule.

"Hello, Gray. You look terribly comfortable there!"

"I missed the capes so I made a blanket cape," he explained. "And now I'm trapped in it." Not really.

"Such a terrible fate," Belle said, tsking. "I hope you won't be trapped forever. "

Gray burrowed down slightly more in his blanket. "I might be," he said. "It's very sad." So sad. So cozy.

"I suppose there are worse fates," Belle said. "Perhaps I should have brought a blanket with me."

"More people should have blanket capes," Gray agreed solemnly. "I'm gonna start a trend."

"Maybe we should. I've never tried that."

Well. Not recently. Surely as a small child she'd done so.

"That's sad," Gray decided. "You should try it. It's fun. Plus when I fall asleep somewhere I already have my blanket right there with me and I don't get cold." For him it was just practical!

"I should. Perhaps when I go back to my room later? I'll have to find the right blanket for it."

"It has to be soft," Gray told her helpfully. "And not too heavy to drag around." He was full of helpful tips about nap adjacent materials, you see.

"Someone borrowed one of my blankets earlier this week," Belle said. "I'll have to see about getting it back."

Five.

"But I should have one that will work."

"That's so nice of you to loan someone a blanket," Gray told her. "I could never. I need them all. On account of all the sleeping." If that wasn't clear.

"He rather suddenly stopped being a cat and started being himself again while on my bed. I had to give him something."

Belle gave him a curious look. "How many blankets do you have?"

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Second Floor Common Room; Sunday, around Lunchtime [10/30].

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