[center][color=green][h2]Marco Dondadello[/h2][/color][/center]
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Marco stretched lightly as he exited his room. Looking back, he nodded in approval at his handiwork - the plain room he had seen upon entering was no more, and was transformed into a something that looked like a glorified version of a professional kitchen - all stuffed neatly into one room. Pots and pans hung from the wall via sticky-hooks, an electric stove was placed conspicuously on top of the desk that was provided for him, along with a toaster and rice cooker; beside it, inside a chrome air-tight box was a series of spices arranged carefully in a row. 

All-in-all, Marco felt right at home.

Stepping out, he recalled the instructions he was given. So the next stop was the cafeteria. He grinned; that was perfect, he was starving anyway. 

Once he was on the ground floor, Marco narrowed his eyes as he smelled a sudden rush of magic, followed by a strong gust of wind surging past his body. He craned his head as a girl landed to his side nearby; the smell of magic was distinct on her, and smelled exactly like the wind. Of course, the smell of magic and wind was little notice when compared to something else . . .

[color=green]"Damn girl, what the hell is your problem?"[/color] Marco nearly exclaimed. The girl smelled like rotting corpses were stitched together then fried in lemon juice - it was something he'd never smelled before, but it was quite frankly disgusting. It was also not a purely physical smell - which meant it was either a magical or psychological kink; either way, it was disquieting. 
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[@Noodles]