Rosette East's Story

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A common belief is that the grumpier sorts of people are going to be very far from morning people- strangely enough, this is not the case for Emilia James, despite the fact that she certainly is a cynical and often standoffish individual. Rather, the young woman is both late to get to bed and early to rise- she's just never been able to have very restful sleeps, ever since she was still a little girl. It isn't because she suffers from nightmares- in fact, she never has dreams at all, these days. There is just something about sleep that is difficult for her- likely the fact that one needs to relax themselves to properly do it. Emilia always seems braced for something, even when in a completely safe place, as though she's just waiting for someone to attack and rip her out. This is the case in the school just as it is everywhere else, despite the fact that she's been living here full-time since arrival. The alternative would simply be wandering around, after all, and while she does slip out during the holidays for weeks at a time, she always returns to her dorm eventually. In fact, she is occasionally a bit more relaxed when she returns, though that likely means that shes relieved stress through her own sort of vigilante justice.

Anyway, Emilia's been up since around five, having jogged, showered, dressed, and then simply lounged on her bed reading within the two hours until this point. After all, breakfast doesn't usually open until around this point- not that she can't just conjure up her own meal, of course, but she tends to limit the use of her power until after she has had a cup of coffee, because whose to say that her mind won't let itself loose if she isn't alert? The girl makes a point of being as alert as possible as soon as she wakes up, because otherwise there may be the consequences of a still fuzzy mind thinking carelessly. Basically, her mind is constantly on alert and wrapped up like a caterpillar in a cocoon, because otherwise a few things may just slip out, and that isn't good for anyone- least of all Em, who would then have to figure out a way to clean up whatever mess she had made when her mind wasn't on lock down.

The young woman glances over at the clock, which tells her that it is now just past seven, and then over to the bed of her roommate, who appears to still be asleep, based on the blond curls she can see poking out from under the covers. Hungry and in desperate need of a smoke, Em gets out of bed and rolls up what she had been reading for the past few minutes to put it into the pocket inside of her beat up military jacket. After lacing up a pair of black doc martens over her jeans, which are just as old as her jacket, Emilia heads out, a pack of cigarettes in her pants pocket alongside a lighter. She closes the door quietly, at least having the decency to let Rose continue sleeping.

Once Em has gotten out of the dorm building and is on the path over to the cafeteria, she pulls out a cigarette and cups her hand around her lighter in order to light it. Pocketing the lighter once more, the brunette takes a drag from the cigarette and exhales the smoke, mind clearing a bit more, though it had already been rather crystal. I just need a cup of coffee, she thinks, not really much of a breakfast person outside of her ritual cup of coffee- black, of course. She continues on her way once more, not paying much attention to the scenery around her, really. It's picture perfect outside, but Em hasn't been the sort to appreciate such things in quite a while, to be honest- all she'd appreciate right now is coffee and finishing the comic book rolled up in her pocket. The only sign of recognition she gives towards the brightly burning sun is to slide her aviator shades down over her eyes, scowling at how annoyingly bright it is out today.

She arrives to find the dining hall relatively barren of people, which suits the young woman perfectly- she's not exactly antisocial, but isn't really the most popular person around school. More of the sort to be the person that some people know, but don't really know. The girl pours herself a piping hot cup of coffee and proceeds to find herself a seat in a part of the cafeteria that typically remains peaceful, taking turns between her cigarette and the coffee, mixing for a familiar taste, while she flips through her comic.

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Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!

A hand shoots out from under blue quilted covers, fumbling around blindly before finally settling on the snooze button of the alarm clock which has awoken the slumbering young man beneath said covers. He manages to turn off the buzzing noise, and is very tempted to go back to sleep, but forces himself up anyway, casting the covers down to his feet and looking over at the clock, which tells him that it is two past seven- he likely slept through the initial two minutes of the alarm clock's tone, given that he had set it for seven precisely. After peering over to see if his roommate had been disturbed by the alarm, he swings his legs over to the side of bed and pushes himself up, stretching and yawning rather loudly before rolling back his shoulder and cracking his back a bit. He must have slept in a bad position or something, because the young man's back is currently aching dully, and he knows that it will tick at the back of his head for the rest of day if he doesn't somehow right the wrong. He needs someone to pull on his arms or something, but doesn't want to bother Donovan about it, and thus just goes about his morning routine- first involving taking a shower and brushing his teeth, of course.

Not one for long showers, he doesn't take long before returning back to his dorm room to dress- jeans and a plaid shirt being the extent of his unimpressive wardrobe- he's never been much of a fashion guy, to be honest. Even in the hottest of months, he refuses to wear shorts, and so his jeans aren't really an unusual thing at all. What he has against shorts is a mystery to most- there isn't really any reasoning at all for it, he just thinks that the look stupid. Not that he'd say that, for fear of insulting someone unintentionally. He has never been a blunt individual, doing his best not to offend people and, therefore, often seeming dull to some people. He gets along well enough all the same, perhaps because a bit of normalcy is almost strange in this oddity of a school.

After trying, and failing, to get rid of the lingering ache in his back, Koen resigns to ignore it for now, and pulls out his phone to send a text towards one of his closer friends- Miss Elsie Striker, resident technomancer, if that's the word for it. They've gotten along ever since first meeting, and so it is only natural that the two would have become good friends by this point. Without even thinking of it, he adds Talia as well to the message, the girl being the sister he never had.

To: Talia Banks, Elsie Striker
Meet me at the cafeteria for breakfast?

After having successfully sent the message and tucked his phone into the back pocket of his jeans, the young man runs a hand through his hair and stifles yet another yawn before heading out of the dorm building and towards the cafeteria. Regardless of whether the girls want to get breakfast, or get his text in time, he's going to eat- he will, however, give it a bit before getting his food. After all, you aren't supposed to eat until everyone else has good as well- so he has been taught since he was a kid, anyway. He doesn't want to be digging in when they first arrive, after all.

While walking, Koen is quite easily distracted when he sees a piece of trash on the ground, and walks over to pick it up so that he can toss it next time he's near a trashcan. Of course, from there he notices another piece of trash a bit away, and ends up spending a good ten minutes just picking up pieces of trash before finally stopping when he reaches a trash can to throw the trash into. People need to pick up after themselves, he thinks with a frown, wiping his hands on his jeans before returning to his original path- destination being the cafeteria once more.

Luckily, his little detour had still gone in the general direction, and therefore he quickly arrives in the cafeteria. Fighting the temptation of the sight of delicious breakfast foods, he sits and waits for a response to his text messages.