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Panic. A marginalised sense of fear that exponentially grew from stress inducing stimuli. She had kept it down for a short while, baiting it out and restraining it for the shortest of periods, to garner a brief, barely usable amount of time. She didn't have a choice - it didn't matter the tedium, there was importance in what she had to do. She had never been a mult-itasker, but to call this mismanagement of time, or lack of experience, or even just a mistake would be the greatest underestimation since the advent of the concept.

Cassandra had broken out into a full-on sprint. She weaved through streets, calling upon a mental map, listened with way-points, checkpoints and beacons of various kinds to navigate what otherwise would have been a complex route. This wasn't her first time running it, and God knew it wouldn't be the last, but committing it to memory made the trek slightly more bearable. Occasionally she got ahead of herself: failing to remember a pothole, or stumbling into an entirely new one; near enough, or sometimes entirely, barrelling into another pedestrian; making a miss turn in her boundless rush. If she hadn't learnt the route by heart it couldn't be told where she would end up.

Direction, balance, navigation - all skills she could display flawlessly in Universe. Of course, she had a digital map in there.

[b]"Watch where 'ya fuckin' running, love!"[/b] the voice of one such hapless pedestrian called out, as Cassie tore through the street, only barely shouting back a [colour=MediumSeaGreen]"Sorry mate!"[/colour] before she ducked into one of the many alleyways that dotted the run. Bundled up in one hand was a string bag, held taught in her fist to stop it swinging about as she ran. It was a reusable one, something she picked up a few years ago, because no way in hell was she [i]paying[/i] for the luxury to carry things home.

With a few more turns, and a couple more incidents of dubious socially aware nature, she stumbled her way to her door. Out of breath and more than a bit embarrassed by the sorry affair that was her life, she fumbled her key into the multiple keyholes lining the metal shield, and pushed her way in, locking the door behind herself. But she had no time to rest - being in the house meant nothing, and the run was simply a test of her courage, her tenacity, and her dedication. The true challenge came now.

Immediately as she pushed through the central entrance way, she came into living room. Kitchen on her left, overlooking the settee straight ahead, shitty TV just to the right, and all the furniture pushed squarely into the walls for the Arc System in the centre. Treadmill, headset, gloves - everything she needed. As the largest room in the apartment, it made the most sense to station the thing there. Not like the workshop or bedroom could fit it, and the bathroom, oddly enough, didn't make much sense.

Cassandra kicked off her shoes, tossed the bag onto the counter to her left, and ran up to the Arc System, powering it up. With the new commotion nearby, something on the sofa stirred awake, rising herself from slumber with a powerful stretch and yawn.
[colour=MediumSeaGreen]"Alright you princess bitch, it's done, you hear me?"[/colour] she called over to the sleeping figure, as she ducked back into the kitchen. From the bag, she pulled out a pouch, just as the figure herself ran in behind her and up to a bowl with a soft mew.

In one swift movement, Cassie tore the package open, and pushed the food out in front of the cat. As always, Isabella took priority. She knelt down beside the thing, as she dug into the wet food that had been graciously bestowed from above, and ran her fingers through her absurdly long fur.
[colour=MediumSeaGreen]"You've got enough for a week now, you best not bother me like that again, you God damned... snuggle muffin."[/colour] Even attempting to scold her was a wasted exercise, as with a sigh she gave in, and took off to her Arc System.

Not moments later did she have the gear set up, and ready to run. Giving one last, cursory glass over to Isabella, who had moved onto licking the edges of the bowl, and the surrounding floor, clean, Cassandra pulled the visor down over her head, and let her vision be overtaken.

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[colour=Turquoise]:: Identification Chip Verified.
:: Universe OS Version Up To Date.
:: Welcome To The Universe, Freischutz.[/colour]

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The purple suited, still armoured up avatar of Freischutz materialised into the War Room, where she had just previously, and unceremoniously, logged off. They were barely finished with the fight when Isabella had begun to beg for food. The cat was a glutenous sod, and could eat her weight three times over if anyone let her, Cassie understood that well. But she had already been fed hours prior - no cat should be able to eat that much food.

[colour=MediumSpringGreen]"Alright bitches, I'm back!"[/colour] She announced. Moments after she had logged in, Freischutz took to de-equipping her gear. Shaed still equipped, guns still very obviously on her person, there had been practically no downtime. Between the raid and the run, mentally and physically she was exhausted. But at the very least, she was done now.

[colour=MediumSpringGreen]"Not dead, just tired as shit."[/colour] she threw back to Ataxia, whose conversation she caught the arse end of as she joined, [colour=MediumSpringGreen]"You lot aren't still counting credits, are you? I just wanna escape the work, don't make me do moooooreeee."[/colour] she cried, dropping herself onto a nearby chair, [colour=MediumSpringGreen]"Slaves, I'm telling 'ya. [i]Sheeple[/i], all of you!"[/colour]

With the last comment, the irony was not lost on her.