6:47 PM Friday
A cough rang out through the silent living room.
Mimiru stuck her head in from the kitchen. Pausing the preparation of whatever nasty concoction she was hastily frying up for dinner. Kenny was busying himself with the changing of Mimru's guitar strings. Keeping his head down to avoid directly inhaling the surly toxic fumes emanating from his roommate's cooking.
"That you Kenny-kun?" Mimru fleetingly asked as she ducked back into the narrow kitchen to prevent the searing material in her wok from bursting into flame.
"Nah, must be one of our oh-so-active roomies" Kenny jeeringly replied as he brought a pair of pliers he kept on a nearby amp to the excess string jutting from his female friend's baby.
Not a second had passed since Kenny completed his mocking comment, when an imposing figure abruptly burst from behind one of the two bedrooms adjacent to the unfurnished space of the living room.
"Oh, ha ha, Kenny, we're all in stitches" .Came the smooth yet textured voice of Drast, once again attaining a level of synthesized contempt that had rendered him serious on all but the most jovial of occasions.
Completing his sarcastic shot at Kenny's sense of humor, the cynical teen quickly sauntered his way over to another disused amp, this one serving primarily as a seat as its woofer had been blown out by on of Strela's (another roommate, still unconscious in the remaining bedroom, most likely in some sort of pile with Slit, or a headlock from Dreamy) crazy sub-sonic bass riffs.
Casting a glance up from pruning the aged metal from Mimiru's fingerboard, he recoiled, almost dropping the pliers onto his unguarded feet in the process. Drast, as always, was clad in one of his flowing man-skirts, completely sheathing the space between his thick skull buckle belt and the tan maple floor, in folds of black and ultra-marine fabric. Bound together with overt azure thread, connecting the quartet of heavily zippered, chain-laden, and bracket burdened material, it was quite a show of his skill with a needle. Although it was a bit unnerving to see the pale nineteen year-old clad in a garment Kenny had previously thought was strictly for women.
Sighing at his own reaction to his roommate's dress, he regained control of the pliers and set back to work. Knowing his cohort was testiest just after he awoke he Kept his eyes on his work, and not on Drast's. Although sure enough as if purely to defy himself, seconds later he swung a gaze over to where Drast had seated himself, and apparently produced a dark plastic brush from one of his skirt's many pockets. Running it through his waist length tresses, Drast tamed his cobalt strands, a ritual he did upon waking each and every day.
Mimiru ducked her head back into the narrow archway that divided the open space of the all purpose room, with the cramped confines of the kitchen.
"YO! Drast! What cha want on your shrimp?" she squealed over the hiss of the searing prawns, a little too loudly perhaps, as the remaining members of the local dream world where probably planning on sleeping for at least a while longer. Seeing he was preening his delectably lengthy crop of cobalt, she put on a smirk "Man, your hair's getting looong, Drasty, can I braid it sometime?" ending with the display of some of her pretty-much-perfect teeth.
Drast, cocking his brow, newly set with a pair of barbells, let the feeblest of grins percolate to his mouth, sublimely thanking his peppy roommate for the follicle related compliment. Dryly, he responded "Just that sauce you make, and you may if you wish." Leaving the bare answers out for her, she grinned ear to ear, then winked.
The sound of a wok full of shrimp being doused with a minute dash of olive oil followed her reemergence into the kitchen.