Charon Mauveine
Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep! Charon's alarm set on his scroll buzzed obtrusively, vibrating the whole nightstand and making even more of a racket than it already was. The screen on the scroll strobed 8:45, and the alarm was titled: Breakfast (Weekend).
Mrrruurrghhh? Charon stirred in his comfy bed, disturbed by the buzzing gremlin on his nightstand. He turned over slowly, and with tired eyes still shut, hit the snooze button on his scroll. Mmmmmm...bettauu... And without another movement from the young man, he was again sound asleep. At least, not for another five minutes.
By the 3rd time he unconsciously hit the snooze button, he has been buzzed enough times for his brain to leave the murky waters of warm, wondrous sleep and into the ugly state of being both half dead and half alive. Guhhh... What time is it? He lifted his head out from under the covers and grabbed his scroll to turn off the annoying alarm. Hmph, it's 9:00am. I wonder what's for breakfast? He yawned and lifted the covers up so he could swing his legs out onto the freezing cold floor.
He yawned again, rubbing his eyes and scanned the room. The sunlight that pierced into the room was intense, and he had to squint while his eyes adjusted into focus. He noticed that all his team members where already gone, with a mess of blankets on Andromeda's bed "fortress", Ferris's bed was neat and tidy, like he had been up and gone for a while. Charon had a funny feeling growing inside of him, Huh, usually Ferris gets up before me, but Andromeda?
Grrooaaawwwlluuhh
And there was that terrible feeling, and along with it a realization that made him stop all thoughts of his morning routine. He glanced back at his scroll and read the time: it was now 9:04, around the time when the breakfast rush usually sets in at the mess hall. His mind slowly processed all of the information, and when it hit him his eyes grew wide in shock, realizing something very important about today: It's pancake day... His mouth watered at the thought delicious pancakes, stacked 3 or 4 high with melted butted and warm maple syrup with sides of scrambled eggs with peppers and maple sausage links.
Groooowwwwwwlllleeeeee...
Charon looked back at his scroll once again: it was 9:09.
Crap.
Panic set Charon into motion, and he practically leaped off his bed and into the bathroom to quickly use the toilet and to frantically brush his teeth. He hurried on out, then ran back in, forgetting to rinse his mouth out and flush the toilet. He ran back over to his nightstand to check his scroll: it was 9:13. His stomach growled in impatience, and in a blink of an eye, he swapped out of his night attire into the school uniform that was now wrinkled. He grabbed his shoes, tying them on one at a time while hopping forward to the door with the other foot.
Before his hand grabbed the door handle, he almost forgot about his hair, which from what he could tell, was a mess. He weighed the idea of either risking losing a spot in line for his rather unkempt and wild bed head. His amber eyes fixated on his favorite purple hat, lying on his nightstand. Hat? Or no hat? His anxious body held still for a moment, but he decided that personal appearance was better that the idea of everyone seeing his hair practically hang out like some wild and twisted grey monster on his head. He leapt for his hat and planted it on over his bedhead, ran back to the door, and slammed it shut in less than a few seconds.