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Janice woke up in the same fashion she normally did: grouchy as hell, feeling the same amount of irritation at having to succumb to the need for sleep as she had the moment she'd begrudgingly turned off her light and kicked her way under the sheets. The alarm clock at her bedside stoically informed her that she had just spent a good six hours being unconscious. Six hours she could have spent revising essays, or checking math homework, or studying one of her chessboards.
Aaaargh. Six. Hours. AAAAARGH.
Unless the dorm building came equipped with some extremely thick walls, Janice's neighbors would likely have learned by now how much of a morning person she wasn't. She was quite literally growling and snarling through her entire morning routine, and this was the norm for her on the days after realizing she wouldn't be able to function if she tried pulling yet another all-nighter.
It wasn't helping her very much that not only had she wasted so much time doing absolutely nothing, she had woken up feeling like her stomach was doubled over trying to devour itself. She hadn't felt this hungry in... god, had she ever been quite this desperate for food? It was as she had spent her whole life so far without ever eating anything, and then suddenly her body decided it wanted all the carbs and nutrients she should have been getting for the past seventeen years. She could barely walk straight, she felt so deprived.
Janice recalled that at some point during those six hours of nothing, there had been a something-- a dream. It had been pleasant. She'd been playing backgammon against someone and winning spectacularly, as usual, and... then she'd calmly crawled across the table, sunk her teeth into her opponent's face, and she'd cut through their flesh so easily, and it had been so warm and tender, and soon there was nothing left but their exposed, blood-slicked skull...
God, that sounded so good right about now--
She'd gotten engrossed in thought and somewhere along the way bitten her lip, and now the blood was trickling gently over her taste buds, almost mocking her in how it was so delectable yet would provide no sustenance. It was the thing that made her decide she had to get out of here and scare up some food, now, pastel-colored pajama pants or no. Janice could not be concerned with the state of dress she was in when she was practically starving to death, and was so frantic to get out of her room and into the kitchen that she almost didn't notice the plant.
It was... she'd clearly never seen something quite like that before, but whatever it was, it was decidedly unhealthy. After a second of rubbing her chin and just... looking at it suspiciously, she then extended a pointer finger and addressed it paternally before rushing out the door:
"If you're dead by the time I get back, I'm turning you into a salad."
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