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Hyloran Sovereignty Gamlon

Tiko

Draconic Administrator/Mentor
Administrator
Mentor
Nexus GM
as written by Calcos

The rays of early morning sunlight broke against the blacked-out windowpane of her penthouse suite, the blinder setting of her window keeping the damnable streaks of illumination at bay, her room enveloped in the cold, dark quiet of morningtime. She was fast asleep, enshrouded within the soft, cloud-like sheets that adorned her king-size bed, the blissful sensation of warmth and chilliness colliding, maintaining for her a comfortable body temperature that afforded her a more soothing sleep. Snuggling deeper into the pillowy embrace of her bedspread, her mind whiled away in dreams of simpler days; a fantasy world that was far, far behind her now. What she would give to remain there one more moment...

Then, the alarm resounded, filling the room with an obnoxious, robotic noise that was sure to rouse even the most restful of the dead. Her eyes snapped open, furrowed in annoyance as she fumbled around to check the time. With a huff of air, she cursed as the clock laughed in her face, projecting the image of numbers across its face.

"Too damn early," she mumbled groggily before rolling over, pulling the blankets even more tightly around her frame.

Suddenly, the telescreen on the wall opposite her shimmered to life, projecting the face of one of the hotel's staff. He was a blonde, baby-faced young man, dressed in a burgundy bellhop's uniform, the hat atop his head making him look even younger than he probably actually was. "Miss Swan, it's time for your wake up call," he said in a mellow, baritone voice. With a groan, she slipped an arm out from under the white cotton covers, waving for the man on the screen to leave her in peace. "Terribly sorry, Miss Swan, but Mr. Cobbler was very insistent that I wake you."

Another indignant exhale and a few seconds of silence later, Vera Swan threw the blankets off of herself, sitting up on the bed and stretching, one hand going skyward whilst the other covered her yawning mouth. Shaking away the bleariness, she found a voice that wasn't burdened by sleep-deprived slurring. "Thank you, Kellan," she told the bellhop. With a curt nod, the screen evaporated, retreating into the wall-mounted projector that hung above the mantle. Vera stood, bending backwards in a stretch, a series of sickening cracks erupting from the length of her spine as she did so. She stood, adorned by a sheer black top and a pair of sleeping shorts. Her breath tasted sour and hair was a frizzy mess --it never could seem to agree with pillows. She sighed, trudging her way across the bedroom floor and into the washroom.

"Lights," she said aloud, prompting the overhead lighting to activate, illuminating the room with a harsh, white glow that caused her to strain her eyes as she looked over herself in the mirror. 'Goddess, what a mess,' she thought as she reached for her toothbrush. With a dab of paste on the bristles, she proceeded to clean her teeth, spitting the saliva-ridden mixture into the sink with all the grace of an angered camel. "Shower on, ninety degrees," she said aloud, the water immediately spurting from the fountainhead above the showering chamber. It didn't take too long for the water to heat up to a sufficient temperature, the steam wafting about the room like a wandering apparition. As soon as she was prepared, she stripped, leaving her clothing on the floor as she stepped carefully into the liquid envelopment of the shower.

"Goddess dammit all," she mumbled to herself, "And damn the morning, most of all."
 
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