[url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3761828][img]http://fontmeme.com/embed.php?text=Jack%20Cannoway&name=INSTSM__.ttf&size=45&style_color=004b80[/img][/url]


Jack awoke with a convulsion, immediately smacking his head on the lamp above his head. "Son of a..." he muttered, rubbing the sore spot and blinking his bleary eyes awake. It seemed he'd fallen asleep at his desk again, as evidenced by the fact that he was wearing his clothes from the day before, the fact that the lights were still on, and the fact that he was currently sitting at his desk. This habit was murder on his electric bill.

For the first time, he focused on the horrid cacophony that had roused him from his sleep. Someone was singing, and playing guitar - probably Alex. Someone else was singing what was, from the sound of it, "Here It Goes Again" - judging by the fact that she was attempting to sing both parts of the chorus by herself, that was most likely Cassie. Oh, and there was also the [i]world-endingly loud[/i] synth-pop nightmare blasting through the wall, accompanied by various shouts and grunts and words of encouragement. [i]Doris.[/i] In a half-asleep daze, Jack fumbled his earplugs off his desk and stuffed them in his ears, overcome with blessed silence.

Time to get ready for the day. It seemed he was already wearing clothes, so. Ready to go. That was easy. Jack kicked his wheely chair away from his desk, enjoying the sensation of spinning through the room, and stood up, brushing some crumbs of whatever he'd been eating last night before he fell asleep of his pants - chips? Some kind of chips.

Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and flipped to his To-Do list - it was his day off work at Home Depot, which meant it was finally time to get to all the big projects that had been accumulating over the week. First up, some of the screws in the lobby that kept all the weird, art-deco paintings on were starting to pop - they'd have to be removed and replaced entirely.

It took Jack just a moment to locate his drill before the sleepy young man was off, plodding down the stairs and yawning loudly as he hefted the powertool casually in his hand. Good morning, Eden Gardens.