Maggie

Squinting against the coruscating wake up call of the sun Maggie hastily pulls the deep, royal, cerulean shag of a blanket over her head, declaring profanities in a loud and large bellicose cry, yet to no avail-- the sun endured the abuse, and attempting to dispel the sleep by beating her comatose figure with streams of fervent morning light, it crept up the face of the clock-tower behind her, surreptitiously stabbing her at each and every breach in the ochre stained glass.

"THIS IS NOT THE KIND OF TOAST I LIKE IN THE MORNING!"

She squealed, and kicking the cobalt cover off her sticky skin she continued to complain, but now under her breath as though she were trying to hide her displeasure at being flogged out of her slumber by the slinking sun, which was already so hot she could hear the meat she had left on the brick balcony to the right of her bed beginning to sizzle and sputter like greased lightning.
Quickly padding over to the weapon rack haphazardly spiked to the wall she grabs her knife, bound with sanguine leather that had been stripped and dried from her fallen enemies and then carefully wrapped around the bone handle, then returns to the meat and scrupulously jabs it, flipping it over and over again on the red slabs until the meat bubbled a heavenly brown and the inside steamed a devilish pink; still reminiscent of the blood that had been pumping through the flesh, sustaining life not but hours ago.
She huddles in the shadowy corner of her adopted hovel while the timekeeping tower ticks away, and as a meditative glass look shrouds her expression, her chewing slowly synchronizes with the seconds that become more and more monotonous as her thoughts are relocated to a different time in her life. Her teeth clamp down on metal and she again spews obscenities as she tosses the hunting knife across the room, landing it with a thunk in the wooden frame of the rack from which she retrieved it.

"Another balls hot day, man...even hells minions would shy away from such heat! Outrageous! And how are we supposed to function in this? Let alone survive....Look at me! I was practically fried alive this morning!"

"I have got to take this up with the council..." she fiercely decides to herself and lickety-split she hastily clicks the tubes to her Hydrodynamic Salvage Apparatus into the apertures located on her thighs, calves, stomach, and arms. Grudgingly, she hoists the pack onto her back securing it to her body with straps, and meticulously wraps herself in a light taupe cloak, inserting her arms into the supple sleeves, and pulling her goggles over her eyes, she bounds down the stairs.