Chapter Fourteen: Mornings
Present Day
Corona was always the first to get up. Even all these years later, her para-militaristic discipline still held at least that much sway. She sat upright, then swung her legs off the bed. Selecting a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from her limited combinations-because somebody hogged all the closet space-she quickly changed, sliding on a pair of combat boots. It had taken her a long time to get comfortable with moving around in anything less than full combat gear, and even now she still wore her sword and shield everywhere she went. Except for bed, of course. Not so much because it would affect her ability to sleep as that it would interfere with "interpersonal relationship activities", as Oberon would call it. She kissed her still-sleeping girlfriend on the forehead, then made her way to their bathroom to prepare for the day. She took care of all the usual toiletries, and pulled a comb through her hair to get rid of all the tangles. That taken care of, she made her way up to the kitchen. She always cooked breakfast, Rin too lazy to do so and Viper too quick to adopt a liquid breakfast mentality. And as for Obi, making him make them breakfast would just be rude. And so, each morning found Corona standing over the stove, making sure her roommates ate properly.
Viper was the next to wake, allowing her alarm clock to beep only once before she lashed out with surprising precision for someone who just woke up, slamming the stop button down. She stretched languorously as she rose, working out the stiffness in her muscles, before getting up and turning off the sun lamp over her bed. She remembered the way Rin had laughed in that good natured way of her when she had first seen her using it. While not actually cold-blooded, Viper's snake-like heritage had left her with an intense aversion to the cold. She would do some light calisthenics and yoga, then take a shower. Once done, she would get dressed in her usual leather pants, cotton shirt, and riding boots with spurs, sometimes throw in a vest if she was feeling particularly fancy, but she left her hair down for now. If it was that time of the month-no, not that time of the month, ya weirdoes-she would get one of her small jars that she kept in a cabinet, stretch a latex cover over the rim, and bite down. Her fangs took it as a sign that they were needed and began pumping venom into the jar. The jars were all marked so that she would not overly deplete her venom, after all, she still wanted enough to use for herself. When the jar filled to the correct amount, she removed the latex, replacing it with a screw on cap, before heading up to the armory, a level above the main floor, where a small fridge sat next to Rin's workbench, in which the venom and other poisons were stored. Having deposited the fresh sample, she would traipse back down to join Corona in the kitchen. Corona was always ready for her, having heard her passing upwards, and greets her with a pot of freshly brewed coffee. Viper accepts the coffee gladly, and adds a shot of whiskey to the mixture before taking a seat at the table. Viper takes out her revolvers to clean and polish, and the two chat while Corona watches the stove, this calm conversation one of the benefits of being the first ones to get up.
Next comes Raven, if she's around. Well, more accurately, Raven wakes up around the same time as Corona, but she spends so much time trying to control her excessive amounts of hair, that by the time she gets upstairs Viper is already sitting around waiting. Raven joins them at the table, leaning her overly-complex sword and sheath against the edge of the table. Often, she glances at Viper, drinking her spiked coffee, and grimaces. Viper has long since gotten used to it, and knew better than to take it personally, after all, everyone has their own story. The boss questions them about jobs they'd been on, intelligence they'd acquired, little things that they didn't consider important enough for a formal report. The three senior members of their little circle got along quite well, perhaps owing to the fact that they all knew what it was like to lose people. Either way, they all respected each other and valued their input.
Sometime around the point at which Corona would put the finishing touches on her breakfast dishes, Rin would finally drag herself out of bed. She had long since acclimated to sleep with another's body heat beside her as she slept, and as soon as Corona left, Rin would shift and roll around, seeking out the lost warmth. Because of this, when she woke up, the blankets were wrapped around her like a lumpy, misshapen sushi roll. Working herself free of the covers, she would drag herself off the side of their bed, falling in a heap on the floor. Stretching her entire body in a very feline-or should I say vulpine, am I right-way, she pulled herself up into a standing position, and rummaged through her oversized collection of outfits. She always spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make sure her outfit was color coordinated, in spite of the fact that all of her clothes consisted of the same bi-tonal color scheme. When she finally figured out what she was going to wear, she arranged her hair into its ever-present bun, leaving the locks in front of her humanoid ears free to hang down. Once upon a time she would have lit incense in the room as she went around getting ready for the day, but the smell of it bothered Corona, even though she would never admit it, far too conscious of other's traditions and practices to admit that it was an inconvenience to her. So, Rin took the initiative to stop using the incense, and simply feigned ignorance when Corona brought it up. Having perfected her look, she climbed the flight of stairs from their bedroom to the main living area, and headed to the kitchen. She gave a respectful bow to the boss, if she was there, followed by a good morning kiss for her girlfriend. Then, if they are having pancakes or waffles, she climbs on Corona's back to retrieve some syrup from one of the higher shelves. (Yeah, you thought that was a joke before. Nah, they actually do that shit. Rin climbs that girl like a goddam tree, and it is friggin' adorable.) Once she has her syrup, she climbs back down at the table. Then Corona would serve them all breakfast. They never wait for Oberon before eating, as they all know he won't be joining them for at least another hour. While he wasn't exactly uncomfortable watching them eat, he did it all the time on the road, after all, he definitely did not find it to be a worthwhile experience, and so he always managed to stay out of the kitchen until after breakfast.
Give it an hour, though, and Oberon would come slithering out from wherever he had been spending the night, sometimes that meant sliding out through the bottom of his ever-locked bedroom door, but more often it meant him slinking out of the library or workshop where he'd been spending time. He got bored, after all. He would always situate himself in the corner of the room, not really comfortable being the focal point, except, of course, for in the middle of a fight. Funny how much easier it is to put yourself in the center of a brawl than stand amongst the closest thing you have to friends. Sometimes the others didn't even notice him come in, the creepy, noiseless bastard. They'd just be talking and suddenly, bam, out of the corner of their eye, this mutha-fucka just standing there, all menacing-like. Raven was about the only one that never seemed surprised by his presence, or maybe she just hid it better than the rest of them. Where was I going with this? Oh, yeah, morning routine. It was actually Oberon who did Rin's hair. She never really understood why he was so fascinated with doing her hair, and the one time she had asked why he didn't just play with his own hair, his reply had been the not at all creepy, "Mine doesn't move anymore." Yeah, she wasn't following that rabbit-hole anytime soon, thank you sir. But, though he had messed it up for a while, he had gotten quite good at doing her braid, occasionally even going so far as to braid the hair close to her scalp as well. He had a pretty strange way of doing it, though, without ever seeming to actually move his fingers while he worked. Another question she never had the courage to really explore.