[i][b][color=orange]"Wake up you lazy bunch. We've got work to do! You have 5 minutes to get ready for briefing."[/color][/b][/i]

Newt's bed was slightly dusty, neatly made, and empty - as usual. It was near impossible to guess where she'd tucked herself into for the night, as she never seemed to settle into the same place more than twice a week. In the past, her peers had jokingly used Newt's odd sleeping behaviour as a means of predicting the weather. Shortly after the god-awful clanging of metal, however, Newt made her presence known.

The doors to one of the rusting, overhead cupboards burst open, forced outwards by a sharp kick of Newt's foot. After a few moments, various items began to fall from the doorway, including a light trenchcoat, a pair of boots, and an old stapler. And then came the little creature herself, tumbling from her make-shift bed and landing gracefully on both feet in a seemingly perfect soft landing, her arms extending outwards to keep her cat-like balance.

Seemingly perfect - until she failed to keep straight. In a silent and slightly awkward manner, she fell chin-first, flopping like a wet towel onto the floor and planting her face in the crumpled coat. [I]Too soon.[/I] A mess of orange, partially pulled back hair shaded her expression, which lay at an angle into the worn leather beneath her.

[Color=olive]"Five... Five more minutes..."[/color] A meek murmur escaped her lips, muffled by her hair. Newt's head was still stuck deep within the clouds. For some, this dreamy morning mood was a positive sign of Newt's healing. Her fairly recent and only instance of capture and imprisonment had left her not only battered and bruised, but paranoid and quiet, and it seemed for a while that her personality had almost entirely died off. However, this had been a change which some of her peers might have welcomed; a lesson well learned, in their vision.

The incident had left the little blight with a plethora of odd ticks and habits; each of which are slowly fading with time. Perhaps the most memorable [I]and[/I] irritating habits she had fallen into was her tendency to sleep on the floor beneath other people's beds. Her peers in question might have never seemed to know unless they saw her slipping under there in the first place. 

Following a few seconds of lifelessness, the creature began to shift again, and a single eye peered up towards the source of the cacophony as Newt writhed to lift her head. She hummed grimly at the sight of Loki, and lifted her elbows to prop herself up, stretching widely as she seated herself onto her knees.

[Color=olive]"Morninffh."[/color]