Room 1D - Russia and Norway

[Professor Pangaea]

[Royd Eiriksson]

Royd was pretty excited. He strolled along the hallways, making sure not to miss his room, 1D. Who would be his roommate? Perhaps... Iceland? He wouldn't mine that. As long as it wasn't Denmark.

He arrived at the door marked 1D. He tried the door only to find it locked. It didn't seem like anyone was there yet. Taking the key that came with the room assignment, he opened the door to an empty, dark room.

Royd entered the room, turning on the lights and closing the door behind him. It was relatively small, but he could deal with that. He put his stuff down on the bed to the right. He began to put his things in order while waiting for his roommate to show.

[Ivan Braginski]

Russia was a relatively light packer but, even so, lugging his trunk in one hand and cello in the other was admittedly more than a bit awkward, and he couldn’t help but heave a sigh of relief when he arrived at the correct room. Bending to place the instrument case against the wall, he took a moment to listen at the door and absentmindedly shrug the developing crick out of his shoulder.

Faintly but distinctly, he could hear the sound of someone moving around inside, and a tiny flutter of reflexive uneasiness rippled through him. He had never been good at this. Part of him had rather hoped that he would be lucky enough to arrive first, but such was the way things went. After a second of consideration, he knocked lightly on the door, already preparing his most pleasant, unassuming smile. That seemed like a decent place to start.

“Hello? Is it alright to come in?”

[Royd Eiriksson]

Royd was putting his blender on the corner of his desk when he heard a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is it alright to come in?" came a voice. So his roommate was finally here! Semi-nervous, he gave the call an answer.

"Come in. The door's open."

[Ivan Braginski]

That was permission enough for Russia. He opened the door partway, and peeked into the room to ensure that the speaker was not in range of the door’s swing before shouldering it fully open, dropping a muted though entirely amiable ‘hello’ as he guided his suitcase and cello inside.

“You must have just beaten me here,” he commented offhandedly, nudging the door closed behind him and idly noting the half-unpacked state of his roommate's things. His smile was still carefully measured, but he allowed himself to look curious as he hefted his trunk onto the remaining bed and turned to the person in question. Russia didn’t recognize him, and he briefly contemplated whether or not a handshake was too formal before realizing that he had no better idea. He put out his hand.

“Ivan, of Russia. Good to meet you.”

[Royd Eiriksson]

Royd took the hand while surveying his new roommate. This guy was very tall and slightly imposing. His gaze seemed... guarded. That wasn't too surprising, he supposed.

"Yes, I got here not too long ago. My name is Royd Eiriksson and I'm the representative of Norway," Royd introduced. "I hope we can have a peaceful time together." He took back his hand and started to take his Hardingfele fiddle out.

[Ivan Braginski]

Russia’s smile curved marginally wider, though even that small change made him look very distinctly relieved. He couldn’t help but be inclined to like Royd a little already. He seemed—well, it was rather early to say exactly what he seemed like, but Russia was at least willing to breathe a bit easier than before.

“Norway,” he repeated with a genial nod, voice beginning to regain more of its usual, clear chime. “I’m looking forward to this year.” He let his hand fall away as he turned to his suitcase to begin unpacking. Standing at an angle to see both Royd and his own task -- it seemed rude to fully turn his back -- he very quickly noticed Royd’s fiddle, and made a soft ‘oh’ of approval in the back of his throat. He paused in his orderly stacking of clothing long enough to gesture indicatively at the instrument.

“You play?” It was less of a question and more of a prompt. Naturally, he was interested. His smile might even have become slightly warmer.

[Royd Eiriksson]

Royd noted Russia's mannerisms with approval as he arranged his clothes into his closet.

"I'm looking forward to this year too," he replied, straightening up a jacket. He was going back to his suitcase for the final load of clothes when Ivan spoke once more.

"You play?" Ivan asked. Royd turned to him with a curious look. He noticed Ivan's glance at his fiddle.

"Why yes, I do. In fact, I was born to play the fiddle," Royd answered. He looked around at Ivan's belongings and noticed a large instrument case. From its large size, Royd almost thought it a bass, but upon comparing it to Ivan, he realized that it must be a cello.

"A cellist?" Royd asked. This was a pleasant surprise.

[Ivan Braginski]

Russia gave a short laugh, obviously pleased. “Very nice. It’s good to have a passion,” he praised, inwardly grateful that they had this common interest. It came as no conversational surprise when Royd’s attention shifted to his cello.

“Yes,” he replied simply, glancing down at his cello case and bumping it fondly with his knee. “I don’t know if I was born to do this, but, still, I think I'd go mad without it.” That might have been closer to the truth than he wanted to admit, but Royd, at least, might understand the sentiment. Despite his unfaltering smile, Russia's expression became vaguely distant as he re-folded a slightly rumpled pair of jeans and placed them aside, though the look was far too fleeting for much to be taken from it.

“Please show me sometime, if you would be comfortable with that,” he continued seamlessly, beginning to organize his folded clothes into the chest of drawers at the end of his bed. He flashed a small, honest smile up through his hair. “I’d like to hear it.”

[Royd Eiriksson]

"I've never performed in front of anyone... perhaps some day you'll hear me play. Perhaps some day I'll hear you," said Royd. He usually played at night and wasn't sure about playing during the day, much less with an audience. As he put away the last of his clothing, Royd considered what piece he would play.

[Ivan Braginski]

Fair enough. Russia gave an understanding nod. He could respect that. “Neither have I; not really,” he admitted with a shrug, carefully closing his drawers and straightening back up. “I too like to play alone, but perhaps we will hear each other eventually.” He trailed off as he returned to his trunk, which already was mostly unpacked. He hadn’t brought much with him aside from the essentials of school and daily life.

“What year are you, if I may ask?” He sounded slightly distracted as he began lifting books out and setting them in a temporary pile at his elbow, but he nonetheless spared a look in Royd’s direction, as though to show that he was still listening.

[Royd Eiriksson]

"I'm a sophomore," Royd answered. He was currently in the middle of putting sapphire blue curtains up on the window over his desk. He gave them one last tug before checking to see if it was even.

"Do you know anyone here at Hetalia University already?" asked Royd. He then moved onto arranging the bed covers.

[Ivan Braginski]

Russia hummed thoughtfully. He was somewhat surprised to hear that Royd wasn’t a freshman, since he hadn’t seen him around campus before, but it was little wonder. Russia was not exactly known for being sociable. Very likely, he simply hadn’t paid enough attention.

“Ah…well.” Russia hesitated, under the pretense of lifting his books off the bed and carrying them to his desk, to consider the question. He shrugged noncommittally as he set them down. “My sister, Belarus, although I’m not sure if that counts." He suppressed a shudder. "I guess—I know of people, but I don’t know them. So, not really.” That was probably the best way to sum it up, and Russia didn’t mind it that way, usually.

“What about you?”

[Royd Eiriksson]

Norway looked quizzically at Russia's shiver, but brushed it off as something personal.

"Well, I think my brother Iceland should be here soon. And England has helped me out before so I know him well enough. I send a Christmas tree to him every year. Israel and I have talked before. A long time ago, I used to play with Canada, but lately we haven't seen each other much. I know a few other people like America, France, and Germany, but for the most part, I usually don't socialize too much," answered Royd.

He was finally finished unpacking his things. Royd kicked his empty bags under his bed before flopping back onto the blue bed covers. He sighed in contentment, happy with the plush mattress.

[OOC: Argh. Running out of convo ideas. When's Belarus coming do you think?]