If a million alien-robot-dinosaurs had decided to attack and invade planet Earth at the very moment, many things would happen. Things like people running around while screaming about the end, governments deciding to shut down in panic, or even entire nations going on paranoia induced martial law. Krisanthamum Levyn waking up ready to go would not be one of those things.

It was only three hours ago that the red-head had finally managed to catch some shut eye. Thanks to an absurd amount of forced drumming practice from Auntie Willa and some extra caffeinated coffee given to her by her dad, the drummer had received absolutely no sleep. Not that Kris was complaining of course. She loved playing Ol' Jericho and staying up all night. Then again, she also enjoyed getting enough sleep to last through the day; a luxury she only experienced rarely these days.

"Rise and shine, Krissy! Breakfast is on the table, and this time it ain't burnt!"
The cleared voice sailed across the blue walled interior of Kris' bedroom and into her ears themselves. Kris, stirring from beneath a mountain of blankets and pillows, only answered with a disgruntled groan as her aunt peered into her room. How the forty-something year old woman managed to be so cheerful in the mornings was beyond the young drummer's understanding. If anyone asked, she blamed dark magic.

"Aw, c'mon girly. You've slept for long enough," her aunt said dismissively as she strode over to the bed.
Kris poked her head out from her comfy kingdom and shot her aunt a withering look. She was pretty sure that only [i]three fucking hours[/i] were definitely not long enough. Aunt Willa only rolled her eyes and smiled. "Breakfast is waiting, girly. Time to get up." With a light laugh, she quickly ducked out of the room and left Kris glaring after.

Reluctantly, Kris dragged herself out of bed. She stumbled into the closet, choosing a simple green shirt and blue jeans as her outfit before heading off into the kitchen. It was here sat her father, the fresh smell of pancakes and bacon wrapped around him like a scarf. If Aunt Willa was fire, then Kris' father was water: smooth, clear, and free-flowing. If Kris had inherited her laidbackness from someone, it was definitely him. 

"How'd you sleep?" he asked with a small smile. Beneath his twinkling eyes were dark bags. No doubt last night had affected his sleep schedule as well. Kris grunted in answer as she plopped herself down in the chair beside him. She rested her head on the table as her eyes half-closed, a mumbled question escaping her lips:

"Where's the coffee?"