Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20180701181322/@comment-25828117-20180706143920

Scarborough, TORONTO

07:12 AM

22th of December, three days before Christmas.

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Harry woke up from a nightmare, causing him to jump up bolt right. Lingering horrors from the resource wars that on occasion wormed themselves back into his consciousness. The morning light seeping in from the blinds was dull, the sky overcast and grim. Still no snow though. It might become Canada's first non-white Christmas in years by the way things had been going.

The resistance leader got up and found a sink, he filled it and used it as a washing basin, leaving the water for the next person. The perservation of water was both vital and mandatory for everyone on the continent. Unless you were rich ofcourse. Then exceptions could be made...

Trembley washed his face and got ready, kissing his native american necklace for luck and walked into the kitchen looking for some breakfast in the cupboards. A search that ended on an half-empty box of cheap knock-off brand sugar bombs. Better than nothing he supposed so he poured himself a bowl with a little bottom of tepid milk to wash it down with only to discover the house had spoons.

He had to resort to drinking his broth from the bowl.

He had overslept twelve minutes, but it had been a long night and half of the people here weren't used to military hours, or so he assumed. If they hadn't woken up in half an hour he'd come wake em up himself. They had to get to HQ.