Morning Routine

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Morning Routine Empty Morning Routine

Post by Z!FF on Mon Feb 05, 2018 5:19 pm

It's early in the morning. So early the sun barely rises over the horizon in a mist of orange and yellow. On the surface, all is still dark and everything asleep, the only exception being a young woman, crawling out of bed. Her hair is a mess. Her face, exempt of make up, is clearly tired, annoyed even. The room is as dark as it can be with the curtains drawn over the windows and no devices in the room show power lights, not even an alarm clock. She reaches the side of the bed and sits up, groaning silently as she passes a hand in her face, rubbing her eyes. Behind her lays dormant her latest encounter, some guy she barely knew and had no interest in knowing more. Even if she would have wanted to, her train of life wouldn't allow it.

The woman's feet finally reaches the cold hard floor, forcing a grin on her, which quickly disappear once she gets used to the temperature. Slowly and silently, our protagonist makes her way to the door, careful opening it to make no sound. With the worst behind her, the early bird sights, looking up, thankful. In the barely light hallway, it is easier to see, so much so that one could, if she wasn't alone, notice her white laced underwear. Quite the set too. Not thinking too much of it, the woman made her way to the living room like a shadow creeps without a sound. The vast open room leads to the kitchen without any distinct border and clothes are scattered all over the place. Mostly his clothes. Hers are so few, they are almost grouped up on a coffee table.

Picking up her goods, the woman gets flashes of her debauchery, which she enjoys enough to crack a smile. Within a few, everything is in one pile, including her boots and helmet. She wastes no time and slides her right leg in the according hole of her one-piece, quickly copying the move for the other. She follows with her arms and reaches for the cord on her back, laying just above her well toned buttocks. It takes her an moment, but she eventually manages to pull on it and zip herself in before moving on. In takes a few seconds to a minute for her suit to warm up until which she breaths in short bursts. Fully covered by the fabric, including her hands and feet, the woman relaxes a little before strapping her combat boots on. Light and durable, they make her a few inches taller and fit the rest of her set nicely. Time quickly passes and so does the pieces she fixes on until, finally she is left with the helmet laying on the couch. Grabbing it without any second thoughts, the woman leaves the small home and locks the door behind her, facing the cold outside world for the first time in the day.

In front of her lays a multitude of homes like the one she just exited. They are stacked over each other in columns of five and each column is at an angle from its neighbor, forming a demi-cercle. A large balcony connects every home of every level and every level with the others. Each column forma a near perfect cube with its corners carved off. They would be a dark grey if it wasn't of the soft white natural spray on them.

The sun now shines a little bit brighter and despite the clouds, some of its light pearls on the glistening snow and back into her eyes. It would have been hard to tell until then, but the woman is actually quite attractive and her now obvious black and purple armor somehow enhances her curves. She wears a one piece, which is slightly hiding under a large, though thin a flexible plating. The armor itself is purple and covers her breasts, legs, forearms, neck and shoulders. Her back is also covered, though it isn't only armor. The upper piece houses a small bulk. Her lower back is left uncovered but a cylinder can be found just above her curved rear end. The cylinder in question is connected at both ends by two thick tubes to the upper section. The entire armor is a dark shade of shining purple while the suit is a non reflective black.

The cold air finally reaches her face, sending shivers down her spine. It doesn't take her more than that and she inspects her gear quickly, most noticably her helmet. The thing seems to be made in two pieces, though she knows they are solidly fixed together. The upper section is made of thick, darkly shaded exagon shaped pieces of glass. Together they form a dome reaching from the very top of her head to below her chin. A distinct line can be seen at the top, separating left from right and it quickly disappears as it reaches for the face. The glass is cut in an odd S shape on the sides, giving a large wide view at the bottom and a narrow one at the top. What isn't glass is made of the same fabric as her armor, thick but light and dark purple, matching everything nicely. Unlike the visor, the body of the helmet is smooth, curved nicely and homogeneous. In the back, two circles can be seen going inward for a quarter of an inch.

A soft white smoke clouds the woman's view as she exhales. She uses that opportunity to clean her visor and finally put the remaining piece of her set on. A few seconds later and her lungs are filled with filtered, warmed air. The woman, all geared up, sights at the view. Sun rising over the white plains, the few and scattered rock's shadows stretching out and the clouds slowly moving around. The day is finally starting and it promises to be a long one. Below, on the ground, the hovering atv she used yesterday is still parked, covered with a white blanket of night snow. She reaches it without hesitation and wipes the HUD clean. After the press of a button and some identification numbers later, the engine lives up and the quad lifts up. Without looking back, the woman heads out to the shadows, where she knows duty is calling.

When he wakes up, alone, he is welcomed by a headache and the memory of her sweet scent. He looks around, out the window and sees no traces of her. Too bad, she was a good one.

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