→ chocolate and cinnamon [E.DEMOTTE]

[TRYGVE GRÅFELL]

Trygve had attempted to read back in the library, but there had been too much chatter. He’d tried reading in his dorm, but then he found himself getting hungry. Read in the cafeteria? He wasn’t stupid. So he decided to venture off the school grounds, he had heard somewhere there was a café nearby, he would try there. He assumed that cafe's were alike no matter where someone was, if he could work at home in a cafe, he could do the same here.

He put his wallet, phone, iPod, and book in his bag before he left the room. It took him a little while (if only he had a map), but he finally figured out how to get to that area. He wandered along the street looking in the window of a few stores, and a small smile appeared briefly on his face as he saw a book store. That was a half-joy, for it was a book store…But undoubtedly the majority of books would be in English, then Spanish, but there would probably be a few in his own language. He shrugged that off, he was getting distracted. Café, café, café, where was it?

Oh, there it was. He looked up at the sign before he looked in the window. So this was the café… It didn’t seem half bad, not too crowded, maybe he could get some work done here. He stepped inside, glancing up as a little bell rung, and he went over to read the menu. It wasn’t too difficult of a choice, he got a hot chocolate, and a cinnamon roll. That would be filling enough, he put in his order and paid (it took him a bit longer then he would have liked to pay, but it was this damn new American money). He watched the person behind the counter move before he got his food.

Trygve nodded a thanks as he took his drink and snack, and he plopped down on a table in the back of the café (it wasn’t too crowded, but he took the table that was left and not smack in the middle of the café). He placed the two things on his table before he pulled out his book, he was supposed to do some sort of essay on it. But that was in the far future, right now, Moby-Dick, or The Whale was over taking his brain. It wasn’t that he hated the book, he didn’t, it was just God awful long. He sighed as he sat on the bench, leaning against the wall, his feet up on the seat of the wooden thing as he sipped his hot chocolate, and read his book being a hipster.

[ELISE DEMOTTE]

Once upon a time there was a kid who hated hipsters; so she beat up everyone she saw. The end As a new employ at the cafe a few blocks away from the School, Elise was instructed and given a french maid outfit for her uniform. Yes, it was necessary, and no she could not wear the male butler uniform. For ten minutes the girl eyed herself in the mirror, blushed a cherry blossom pink and tried in vain to pull down the skirt thus making it longer. Elise frowned leaning up against a few empty boxes piled on top of the back in the employ lounge. No wonder getting a job here had been so easy, the only qualifications needed was a set of in shape legs. When the big hand struck the 12, her shift started and a very embarrassed Elise walked out onto the floor with her head held high.

Maybe, if she pretended she was wearing her regular clothes it wouldn't be so bad. With that mindset Elise began as she was instructed to pick up any dirty or unused dishes around the cafe. Every now and then she'd feel the glance of a wandering eye and resisted the urge to spit in their drinks. No, instead she offered them a smile and a few well placed giggles and before long they were gone and the tip was placed into her skirt pocket.

Time passed, customers came in and went like extras in a movie, never to be seen again. When she brought over a customers latte, Elise spied that one of the customers who'd been sitting for quite some time now drink was empty. after introducing herself to the customer she gave them some time and walked over towards the boy whose face had been in that book all afternoon.

"Hello, sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you'd like a refill?" Reaching out to grab hold of the mug, she stopped instantly forgetting she needed the clearance to go ahead and take the customers drink. Tentatively letting her grip slack green coral caught sight of the book title. "Ugh, Moby-Dick? I could barley get through that thing, it was so long I wanted to throw my copy into the fire after I was finished."

Whoops, she scrunched up and proceeded to step away from the customer in case she was invading his personal space and waited for his answer.

[TRYGVE GRÅFELL]

Trygve was burred in his book, his fingers were fidgeting a bit with the clip in his hair as he read:

’…All was now a phrensy. ‘The White Whale –the White Whale!’ was the cry from captain, mates, and the harpooners, who, undeterred by fearful rumors, were all anxious to capture so famous and precious a fish; while the dogged crew eyed askance, and with curses, the appalling beauty of the vast milky mass, that lit up by the horizontal spangling sun, shifted and glist--…’

He paused as he heard someone’s voice. He put his finger on the line where he was before he looked up. Oh, someone was there,”Uh…” He said as it took him a moment to return to reality. What had she asked? Something about his drink,”Please.” He said, hoping that was a good answer to the question.

He heard her comment on the book in his hands, he supposed he could see why someone would hold such a loathing for it. It was long, and it drew on and on... But in comparison to others bucks just as long, or longer, at least it contained a good story. “Moby-Dick? I don’t mind it all that much, it may be long, but it’s a story. I’d much prefer Moby-Dick to Self-Reliance and Other Essays, for in that book, essay rather, there is no plot, no logic, and no method to said madness…” He mumbled as he put a post it in the page letting the book close as he realized how much sitting and reading had made his head hurt,”However I suppose the difference is made in the reader, I will read anything…”

He said as he wiped his fingers off on a napkin, the cinnamon roll having made them sticky. He looked around confused for a moment,”You wouldn’t happened to know what time it was…would you?”

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[OOC: Norge doesn't mean to sound like a prestigious asshole! It just sort of comes out like that! <3 ]

[ELISE DEMOTTE]

Hearing his reply, Elise nodded and easily swept up the empty cup which lingered on the side all but forgotten by the individual. Bringing the cup close to her nostrils, she took in a short sniff and easily placed the scent belonging to hot chocolate. A very fine choice of drink to consume on such a crisp day such as this one. What was once known as beautiful endless summer days had transformed overnight into the breezy fall season, where leaves changed into just vibrant colors reminding you of a picture wonderland. The different hues brought a sense of longing for her medieval Flemish hometown, this yearning feeling was quickly brushed aside sense there was little point in reminiscing of a place she'd soon return to.

Just as she was about to turn and procure the customer another drink, he spoke up and stopped Elise in mid stride. Stepping back, Elise returned to her previous position and nodded taking in more of his words. "There was a plot yes, but it was so minimal." Elise gave a simple shrug idly twisting a strain of hair and shifting her weight from one leg to the other. "I doubt you thought this, but for me it was like the Germanic Heroic code with Beowulf. Both Captain Ahab and Beowulf desired the impossible, and knew they were destined to fail, but it was that code of the hero that ultimately killed them both."

Plot? A deep grin spread across her face as Elise took out a pen and reached for one of the spare napkins. "Have you read the book Les Miserables by Victor Hugo? It's one of my all time favorite novels." She wrote in large swirly lettering out the title and author before pushing it towards the boy. "It follows the interactions of several French characters over a twenty-year period in the early 19th century, starting in 1815 and culminating in the 1832 June. The novel focuses on the struggles of ex-convict Jean Valjean and his experience of redemption."

Finding the leaning over position to be a little uncomfortable, Else decided to screw the rules and take a seat opposite of the customer. There, at her side sat the forgotten tray and cup which she was supposed to refill, but remained empty.

"Time?" Now that he mentioned it, quite some time had passed since her shift had begun. Throwing a glance over her shoulder Elise struggled to make out the time from the distance. "its....7..7:42 I think. Ugh, not even close." The blond let out a dejected sigh, allowing her chin to rest comfortable in her hand.

(sry it took me a day to get this up! ))

[TRYGVE GRÅFELL]

“Is that not what we, as humans, do?” He asked brow raised,”We desire the impossible? And though we are not destined to fail in the short term, long term, we all die.” He said shrugging a bit,”If we didn’t desire the impossible we would not be able to modernize as humanity, if we give into that idea why bother going for it. The same could be said from the opposite point of view, if we all die why try?”

He blinked a bit listening,”…Les Miserables…” He mumbled, the sounds jumbled because of his accent. He took the piece of paper looking at it before he put it in his pocket. He’d have to look into that book,”I have never read it…Though I will look into it.” He said nodding his head. This was… awkward… Not really, just… Odd for him. This was a conversation, which seemed to be going decently well. Probably because it was about literature. He folded the piece of paper and he got out his wallet, putting it in the pocket where he kept his receipts, tickets, and stuff such as that. He watched her sit down as he reached out and he started to fidget with the sugar packets.

Trygve put his book in his bag as he tried to think of some books to talk about,”Have you read…Uh…” He mumbled, he started speaking in Norwegian before he paused mid sentence,”….I mean, have you read… well, if you don’t like plays it might be the one for you… But there is a play by uh…Doug Wright…I do believe…I Am My Own Wife.” He mumbled as he fidgeted still,”It’s quite interesting… You see, it’s about Charlotte von Mahlsdorf—” He stumbled over the name, it was German, he was Norwegian… The accents clashed,”—Who is an East Berlin transvestite, you know.. He lived through the two most oppressive regimes of the twentieth century, the Nazis and the Communists.” He said nodding some. It was quite an interesting book. It was amazing what she lived through, she lived through those two regimes as an openly gay man, in drag. And after the wall came down she was distinguished with Germany’s Order of Merit.

Trygve struggled to understand how someone could manage to do such a thing, with sucha great threat in their face. He didn’t know, but he loved the play, not to mention it was written to be a one man show, taking the entire vibe to an entirely different place, he blushed a bit as he noticed he was rambling, and he shut up abruptly.

[ELISE DEMOTTE]

Elise shrugged twirling a small spoon as she listened to the strangers words. "Both stories tend to revolve around the revenge cycle, where I kill your brother, you kill mine and so on, It'll never stop until somebody decides enough is enough." The thoughts rushed in and out so quickly it was impossible for her mouth to keep up, so while everything made sense in her own mind, it came out in a jumble leaving many to wonder if she knew what she was talking about at all. ((indeed Elise....does your writer known what she's saying? Mmmm.....))

"I think it was selfish of both of them, each risked and lost their lives for a silly and trivial matter in my mind anyway. Especially Beowulf, he was a King and had a duty to his people to protect and watch over them, instead he went off and died fighting a dragon and all the riches went to his funeral." The fact that she'd basically sat down with a complete stranger and started chatting about books didn't seem to bother the Belgian girl as much as it had the other. Elise was used to these casual conversations made in local cafe's as it was the norm in Belgium. People would come together to seek company and find themselves enjoying a nice cup of tea with a perfectly good stranger and spend the entire afternoon with the person.

Always a constant fiddler, Elise used the back of her sleeve to wipe away a few specks of sugar which had remained on the table, taking in what the boy had said and nodding only stopping when a few foreign words she did not understand came out. "Sorry?" Elise tilted her head in confusion, it only returned when he started again, this time in English.

"You mean Charlotte von Mahlsdorf," Elise corrected his pronunciation. "And yes I have! Actually, about five years ago my family went to see the play at the Duke's of York Theater in London, I can't believe she lived openly as a transvestite during those times, she was amazingly brave woman. Actually," Elise leaned in closer while wearing a wicked smile. "The German word Frau can be translated into English as 'wife' or 'woman' but I prefer 'I am my own woman' more than the other."

When it was his turn to once again add to the conversation, Elise watched as the stranger clamped him mouth shut and refused to speak another word. This action caused a tiny eruption of laughter in the girl who stood quickly her cheeks flushed. "Neem me niet kwalijk!" Clasping a hand over her mouth Elise frowned at times like this when her native tongue came out. "Sorry! I forgot to get you your hot chocolate I'll be right back." And so she scampered away without another word.

((I always hate my first post of the day. Yeah it's ugly and stupid I know, please don't hate me! ))

[TRYGVE GRÅFELL]

“I suppose they revolve around the revenge cycle because that is the cycle that most humans revolve around, though it can be suppressed. I would like to say I didn’t posses such a disgusting habit, but I do. I’m not one to focused my life on it, but if something happened to happen to someone I disliked, I would not mind. I would get some sort of satisfaction. ” He stated, yeah, he’d be alright if something happened to his parents, the only downside to that was they produced the money to send him to school, and he wasn’t old enough to receive their fortune, which would not be good… in his mind at least.

He watched her wipe up some sugar, and he sighed putting down what he himself was fiddling with. Not that he could stop fiddling, so he got out his notebook, still sitting in his slightly lopsided way, notebook resting in his lap (hidden from her) as he started to draw quietly. Blinking he shrugged,”Ah, ja ja….” He said nodding,”Her.” He said, fully aware he thick accent ruined his English speech.

“I doubt many people would live openly as a transvestite… or a homosexual, or both…. Even now…” He said as he drew quietly, quite content with himself right now, comfortable,”Ah…” He blinked once or twice nodding,”Mmhm.” He said as he waited for her to return with his hot chocolate. Maybe it would have whipped cream, he wasn’t too big on the stuff (he was starting to figure out he was probably some form of lactose in tolerant, but, life goes on, ja?).

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[ OOC: OFF TO TAKE MY HUMAN PHYS TESTTTT~! -flees- ]

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[ELISE DEMOTTE]

As she teetered along into the back, thoughts of revenge and its endless cycle clouded her thoughts until the faces of her beloved ones and those of strangers were stained a crimson red. Eyes shut tight in concentration, Elise waited as one of the workers took away the cup and went to get a new cup of hot chocolate. It was rather sad to think about, surely she could not dislike a person to the point of wishing death upon them? Depending on what you believed death was the ultimate end, where you simply stopped being and those around you were forced to move on, with only their memories for comfort.

Noticing the steaming cup of liquid right in front of her face, Elise produced two piping hot cinnamon buns, a plate, a few napkins, and a can of whipped cream. With the balance and the precision of the Sugar plum Queen, lifted the serving platter over her head and easily made her way back to the customer. "Orders up~" sang the girl as she placed the plate of buns in the middle of the table and handed him the drink. "Here you are and would you like whipped cream with that sir?" A schoolgirl giggle escaped as Elise once again made herself comfortable across the table and started picking away at her own treat.

"I dunno...back in the day being different at all was really bad." She stopped for a second to lick at her sugar coated fingers before continuing onward. "Nowadays being a homosexual or even a transvestite is much more accepted in some areas." Elise took a small bite of the bun and let out a content sigh as the warmth raced and spread throughout her entire body. "Peoples minds are changing and each new generation is different from the rest. You'd be surprised about how many people just want to be accepted and loved for who they are on the inside. Have you ever gone to a gay pride Parade?"

[TRYGVE GRÅFELL]

Trygve watched for her quietly before he continued to draw, he was drawing fairies still, they were quite good… Just.. Tiny, maybe he’d try painting one day. Or… Something else. He shook his head to himself as he drew, like her the ideas they had just talked about still on his mind. Revenge… Thank the lord he wasn’t an expressive person, because if he ever did act upon his feelings and impulses someone would end up very hurt…physically or emotionally. It was better to kill in his mind—Uh, what? No, go away bad train of thought, go away. He couldn’t help it if he felt that he would make a good killer, he lack of emotional depth helped, seeing as it caused him to have a failure in the ability to care about people at an emotional level unless he felt someone was really worth it.

He couldn’t help having these thoughts, he spent so much time reading about dark things, and then he spent so much time with himself, he couldn’t help it. Sometimes his mind wandered,”Oh…” He mumbled as he saw her sit back down. He blinked and gave a nod,”Yes, please…” He said with a small smile as he reached out to take a bun happily. This was nice, besides, it served as his lunch.

He nodded,”In some areas I suppose…” He said softly as he shrugged,”There are many people who just want to be accepted and loved for who they are. Some places accept it. Other places… Well, other places you read about teenagers getting sodomized in locker rooms…” He mumbled, well then. Wasn’t he just the joy of the party.