Business majors unite (private)

Usually Holly would rather go hungry for a few hours than eat at the cafeteria, opting instead to step out to grab a bite elsewhere and eat on the go, but she’d had no time today. She had stayed behind in her dreadfully boring accounting class to sweet-talk her professor into extending a deadline (it’s not that she really needed it, but she had better things to do with her time), and since she’d stayed up late IMing her dads last night, she needed the energy for her next class.

There hadn’t been any spaces in the actual cafeteria so she’d had to take the outdoor seating, and had sat through a slightly wilted salad and the discomfort of quickly stamping down the flowers that would start popping up in the ground underneath her seat. Finishing as fast as she could (and yes she’d scooped some of her food into the offering fire but honestly she doubted her mother would accept it), she neatly stacked her tray away, and set out for her next class at a rather brisk pace. She barely caught a glance of gold beads in dark hair as she turned a sharp corner, before crashing into another girl.

Only Holly’s demigod reflexes saved the Saint Laurent tote bag she used for school from getting splashed, as she jerked back a second before coffee sloshed over the rim of the cup the girl held. Her blouse, however, was a lost cause, and she couldn’t hide the small hiss of pain as the hot liquid went through the light fabric.

At the girl’s frantic apology, Holly tried to play it off - despite her annoyance, she knew it wasn’t exactly the girl’s fault. She voiced as much. “It’s alright,” she said, snatching some tissues out of her bag to brush off the excess coffee on her shirt sleeve (while surreptitiously checking that there was no stain on the black leather of her bag). “I’ve been through worse,” she added dryly.

OOC: I LOVE the bad luck/good luck aspect of her godly heritage! I’d never thought about the bad luck part, I just assumed children of Fortuna would only have good luck haha

BIC: The girl hurriedly pressed enough napkins to Holly’s arm to make her look like a papier-mache project as Holly tried to politely tell her that she was fine actually, it was no big deal, without hurting her feelings or causing a scene. Which wasn’t working, clearly, since some students had started looking sideways at the two girls. Holly felt the beginnings of a headache coming on, before the girl (bewilderingly) darted away from her to toss her coffee cup into one of the braziers.

“Seriously, please don’t worry about it–” she tried to demur, but the girl essentially herded her into the bathroom, and Holly was really about to start protesting – all she had wanted was to get to class on time, and now she felt as prickly as her thorniest rose bush – when she caught sight of the box of cleaning supplies.

“Oh,” she said, eyebrows raising in surprise. Delicately peeling off the napkins stuck to her arm, she then stood still as the girl splashed some rubbing alcohol onto some paper towels to start dabbing onto Holly’s shirt. “Thank you,” she added, meeting the girl’s eyes and giving her the most genuine smile she’d had all day. After a beat, she said, almost teasingly, “Does this happen to you very often? Enough to know where the nearest stash of cleaning supplies are?”