It All Starts At Breakfast (Open)

[Jasper McKay]

 He'd been hungry since 3 a.m. and awake since 1. If there is one thing every meta could agree on, it was that side effects sucked. He hurriedly threw on jeans and a plain red t-shirt. Jasper was in the cafeteria as soon as it opened, with the early risers. He usually woke up as late as possible, but his stomach refused to let him go back to sleep this time. He had to say, not much changed, no matter when you woke up. The place still held the assortment of smells and the constant chatter. It was quieter than lunch, as everyone was just waking up. Unless they were the ever delightful morning people.

 For his meal, he made himself a sandwich. A glorious pb and j. The perfect amount of jelly and peanut butter, on some exceptional pieces of bread. He wasn't one for fine dining, and enjoyed more simple tastes. But this-this wasn't just food, it was his hope for the day. Everyone knows if something goes wrong at breakfast, the whole day goes wrong. That’s just how it was, he didn't make the rules. So, Jasper placed his hope in a sandwich and a peaceful (so far) cafeteria.

  He made his way toward a table, a small skip in his step, with his food and a glass of juice in hand. Everything was swell, until it hit him. A wave of dizziness that sent him tumbling forward. “Shit!” He shouted. His hands smacked against the hard tile, saving his head from the hard impact. It did nothing for his knees, and they throbbed with pain. His fuzzy vision cleared, and his mind caught up with him. Apparently, it had been him or his food, and his brain, in it's fog, had chosen self-preservation and wastefulness. His sandwich lay on the floor, tragically soaking in a puddle of apple juice and sorrow. Jasper gawked. (He was feeling a bit dramatic this morning. Blame the hunger.) He so wished he could turn back the clock, but time powers didn't exist and neither did time travel (yet). 'Just great.' he thought.

 One thing’s for sure, it was going to be a rough day.

[Théo Allard]

You could say that early mornings were not Théo's 'thing', but that was not necessarily true. He woke up when he woke up, and since that seemed to be in the early morning, that was how it was. So, no, he was not a morning person, or une personne matinale, if he stuck to his mother language, but neither was he upset by the coming of the morning. He was morning neutral.

And the only reason he was in the cafeteria was to get a drink, and some fruit. He was very much proud of the fact that he could make his own meals,and deigned to do so whenever the possibility arose. However, he did not have the ability to cook up an orange, and there were none in his dorm (none in plain view), so he had to go to the cafeteria.

Théo did not care to converse with any of the others who were waiting with him that glorious morning, and was one of the first people to start walking away with their food, since his selection was so simple. He sat down and began peeling the orange,the citrus scent wafting up. And then he headed a loud clatter. He glanced up. Oh. Someone had fallen over. Poor unfortunate soul. He had to suppress the urge to laugh at the scene in front of him. The guy seemed pretty upset by it all... now, what a normal person would do in this situation is run over and ask multiple times if they were alright, or the stupider question of 'Êtes-vous tombé?' (Did you fall?)

Théo was not a normal person. None of the people here were. He stood from his seat, leaving his fruit on the table, walked over to the boy in his pathetic misfortune and manifested a nice simple croissant, taking a good bite of it and chewing as he remembered a certain English phrase that seemed to fit quite well here. He swallowed and smirked, 

"'Ave a nice trip?"