Intensity --- Chapter 1 : The Routine

The wailing of the tiny alarm clock brought a disgruntled groan from the small blonde figure so warmly snug beneath her covers. A slender hand peeked from beneath the warmth of the cocoon of fluff to fumble over the top of the small nightstand, feeling it's way to the alarm clock and promptly pressing the sleep bar. The alarm halted, abruptly, the hand ducking back under the covers and against the warmth of the body it belonged to.

Although, this brief period of complete restful silence was once again broken by the constantly beeping alarm clock as it went off several minutes later. This time it was enough to rouse' the slightly coherent woman, her feet swinging from the bed to touch gingerly on the freezing cold floor. She gave a quiet squeak and peered over at the small hell box that seemed to somehow reappear in her room after she had removed it several times. She would remedy this situation.

After a few moments of ingenuity, and a small bar of explosive putty kept handy in her bed stand drawer, she was ready to exact her revenge and prevent that damned device from ever breaking her away from her secret paradise of dreams. The plastique like explosive had been mounted to the base of the alarm clock, various wires from inside it's body pressing into it. The display still buzzed and hummed as if in perfect working condition. She opened the small side panel, clipping in a 9v battery to the connectors, so that she wouldn't have to keep it plugged into the wall. With a small tug she pulled the cord free of the socket, watching the display disappear, and then reappear a moment later. Perfect. She stepped over to the window and coiled the cord tightly around it, weaving it through the loops to keep it in place. A few moments of adjusting the alarm setting and she tossed it out the opened window, watching it land quite a distance from the house. The alarm had been set for one minute. With that, she crawled back into bed, curling up within her covers with an all too pleasant smile.

The accompanying brunette had been soundly asleep as well, lucky enough to not be graced by such an annoying device. No, she had her own internal clock that wouldn't let her sleep any longer. So, as if synchronized with the blonde's own alarm clock, she rose from the bed. She rubbed her eyes several times, the entire room a bit hazy and disorientating. After a few blinks and a rather pleasant stretch, she soon gained her bearings. The option of slowly awakening was all too brief unfortunately. Just as the scantly clad brunette was beginning to rise a thunderous clap sounded outside the house, causing her to nearly jump right out of her skin. Various pieces of whatever had exploded, clacked against the window noisily, falling to the ground outside. She wandered over to her window, pulling it open and glancing to the ground. There were scattered pieces of black and clear plastic, and what appeared to be a cord. She sighed and shook her head.

"May Hopkins - 1. Alarm clock - 0." She murmured to herself, the crisp air wafting through the window reminding her that she was still in dire need of something warm to stave off the slight shiver that was creeping up her spine.

She wrapped her arms about herself for a moment as she stepped over to the other side of the room and peered within her closet. There was little variation in her outfits. A few bras hung from hangers, several jackets with varying decals, a few dresses and skirts here and there, and a blouse wrapped within plastic that had just been recently dry-cleaned. Ah, the ensemble of a true woman on the go. She snagged a small black dress from a hanger, and proceeded to discard the t-shirt and string-like underwear that she wore, onto her bed.

May was still quite happily wrapped within her blankets, murmuring a happy giggling to herself every now and then. She was obviously enjoying whatever dream it was that she was having. Once again her happy moment was cut short as a large black fluffy object was flung onto her face. She mumbled several obscenities, knowing the culprit behind her jarring away from her rather pleasant dream. She tossed the article of clothing - which turned out to be a skirt - to the side, glaring ruefully over at her now empty doorframe.

A few moments later May was dressed, and standing beside the small brunette woman, who was hunched over digging through the lower levels of her refrigerator. May chimed in, though not sounding all too awake.

"Rally.. we go through this junk every morning. Lets just go out. We always do; it's not like we can't afford it." She shrugged, folding her arms on top of the brunette woman's back, chin resting atop the pyramid.

Rally sighed as she shook back and forth, trying to get the woman off of her. She grumped and shut the fridge', finally compromising and nodding.

"Alright, alright. Fine. We'll go out. I'm warning you though, no more Chinese."

May murmured to herself, glancing away, "Fine. How does Italian sound?"

Rally considered her proposal for a moment, before nodding in agreement.

"Alright then. Lets go!"

A few moments later, the tires of a 1960's Shelby Cobra roared on the pavement, the car careening from the driveway an rocketing down the street.