White-blonde curls fell haphazardly over one woman's face, making a sprawling half circle around her head. A soft snoring came from the sleeping figure, her right hand gripping a pint of strong-smelling alcohol, already half empty. Joanne, one of the more well known slackers, sleeping so much she puts the others who dare call themselves lazy to shame.<br/><br/>A stomping resounded from a short distance away, surprisingly loud for such a thin person, all skin and bones.<br/><br/>"JOANNE!"<br/><br/>The blonde woman shot up faster than a bolt of lightning, her whitish curls undone and messy from sleep. "Huh, huh, what? What happened?" Joanne plucked a stray curl from her mouth, snacking her lips in distaste. "Uch..."<br/><br/>The elven male crossed his lean arms impatiently. "You're still asleep? You said we would do a job today! This is unhealthy!" His scolding fell on deaf ears as the woman took a glug from her drink, murmuring something about it being still good. Einar threw his hands in the air with exasperation. "You're hopeless!"