RPM
tadcfnaf
Blair
Raineh Daze
Plank Sinatra
cosmiccowgirl
sillykins
KillamriX08
AgunimonMan of the Rising Sun
HereComesTheSnow
Day 1, Morning
Blinds were, if utilized correctly, invaluable tools to the late riser. Allowing for protection against the early rays of morning, they could help one who had stayed up late or was simply obstinately not a morning person extend their period of slumber for a couple of hours, which, in sleep time, was almost always invaluable. By artificially maintaining the darkness of the room, they could keep the inherently wakeful light away from the lidded retinas of the occupant in question, which would in turn help them continue to sleep.
Seriously, people's eyes respond to that stuff, no matter how poorly the narration explains it. Case in point being:
One Otto Kleinsmann had evidently not been trained in proper and correct utilization of blinds. And as one might expect, a glorious golden ray of sunshine lanced through the crack offered to it in the window's defenses, casting itself upon his sleeping face with wild abandon. To his credit, his fortitude against the dawn was not one-note-- a scrunching of the face, a repositioning of the body; adequate steps to remain inertly unconscious were taken.
However, it was too still too little, and still too late. The movement had actually served to wake him up more, getting the blood moving and brain working, so to speak.
"Wuuuugggggh..." he groaned, blearily sitting upright in the comfortable little bed issued to all residents of the Tower's dormitories. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes for something resembling a full 90 seconds before checking the clock. Still blurry, and unfocused to boot.
Whatever. "Too early"'s good enough. he groused internally, hauling himself out of bed as soon as blood was flowing past his patellas. Really needed to curb that whole "sleeping on a leg" thing...
One short shower that cleared his mind and sinuses later, and he was at his sink, dutifully brushing away at his teeth before breakfast like any respectably raised young man, when the world reminded him that it wasn't done just yet. He'd set his alarm early by mistake, and had forgotten it was even on at all when woken up extra early by the sun, which resulted in--
A majestic spray of mint flavored foam splattered into the bowl of the sink, and a loudly uttered profanity followed soon after as the young man beat his alarm into submission. Today had the makings of...
"Well, something... interesting." he concluded some time later, after carefully avoiding any more surprises as he finished his morning routine. Affixing the sheathed HF-Blade upon his back via magical future technology (read: a simple leather belt), Otto stepped out of the door and into the halls, intent on locating the most crucial thing for any man in the morning:
Breakfast.
