Whoever invented alarm clocks must have wanted to watch the world burn. The incessant buzzing and blaring, while they easily managed to wake up the slumbering Katherine Moreau, also succeed in annoying the 18 year old, so that when she finally hit the off button, it was by slamming her hand down and letting out a groan. Running a hand through disheveled hair and standing to her feet. Looking down at her nightstand, she couldn't help the smile at the small picture that sat there. A little boy, on his second birthday, with cake and icing practically covering his face. Kate missed her son, but she took solace in the fact that come the weekend, she'd get to see him. In truth, there were very few people, if any, that Kate admired more than her parents. The parents who took care of her and kept her safe even after she'd made her mistake, and then cared for and, without a doubt, spoiled the little ball of energy that was their grandson.
After taking a quick shower to wake herself up, and blow drying her hair, and rifling through her closet to find some clothes, the girl stood by her small desk and shoveled in her books and papers. Kate was one of those girls who, instead of partying with the rest of her generation, often preferred to stay in and read, finish up assignments, or watch some random movie she had on DVD or found on Netflix. She didn't drink or do drugs, and she didn't care to flirt with every boy who passed her by. She was just...different.
Sitting back on her bed, the girl slipped her feet into a pair of sandals before quietly making her way out of her room, careful not to disturb her roommate, if Archie was in there. Kate hadn't paid enough attention to check. But, now that she was out, she walked down the long winding hallways until she finally rounded a corner and walked out onto the grounds.
Jo had always considered sleep to be one of her best friends. After all, when she slept, she got to dream, and when she was in her dreams, anything was possible. She could do things that would never be possible or never could be possible. She could swim in the deepest ocean, or glide over the highest--no, wait, that's from Harry Potter. But Dumbledore was right. In dreams, you really do enter a world that's entirely your own.
But, you have to get back to reality at some point. And that point happens when you wake up. Which was exactly what Joanna Carter was struggling with at that moment. She was currently making any and all attempts to convince herself that she didn't need to wake up. Making all sorts of excuses that said getting out of bed was just not worth it. One of her top reasons was just that her bed was warm and comfortable and just outside her blanket was a dangerous world filled with essays and people.
Eventually though, she forced herself to rise from her warm bed and go through her albeit simple morning routine. Jo wasn't the kind of person to do much. Even her wardrobe. She was the type of person to love over-sized sweaters, sneakers, and jeans. When it came to her hair, there was never much she could do. It was long and pale blonde and always looked full and as hard as she tried, she knew it would never be sleek or smooth. So she just brushed it and left it as it was, which didn't do much to sway from the idea that the girl had just gotten out of bed. Luckily that wasn't too far from the truth.
Glancing around once for her roommate, Anais, Jo grabbed her bag and left, making her way down the hallways towards the boy's dorm hall, where she would start her day by checking if her best friend in the academy, Mic Samson, was awake yet. Walking up to his door, she tapped out a little rhythm on the wood and waited.