Wake-up Routine (Kommo-o TF)

His eyes slowly opened to the dimly lit room, feeling the thin sheets he was covered in, the warm humidity in the room as the sun beared down from behind the shutters of the blinds. He could still feel the grogginess on his face, rolling over as his hand slid over the bedding to pick up his phone, resting on charge. Nine o’clock in the morning. He had slept in a little bit again. He was tempted to keep lying there too, having woken up earlier when people were moving around outside of his room earlier which made him feel more groggy than he should… but it was starting to get late. The day was being eaten away the more he laid there. Time to do the morning routine.

Caleb gradually shuffled and sat up, pulling aside his sheets as he swung his legs over the right side of the bed, sitting there for a moment as he stretched his arms above and behind his head. He flexed his shoulder blades while he sat there in his comfortable, loose trackie pants, the ones part of his sleeping outfit with a shirt absent on his body. The pleasant sensation of getting the sleepiness out of one’s body flowed down his arms and into his spine, holding his breath until he was done, letting out a sigh through his nose. His hand dropped and moved to his short, recently cut hair, brushing the slightly longer fringe over to the side. He paused as his fingers hit something hard, something cool and metallic that made his eyebrow raise slightly. Fingers coming back, he felt a small, oval-shaped medallion attached to his forehead, hidden partially within his hair. It was small at the moment, but…

The young man’s eyes narrowed a little, closing half way as a disappointed, slightly annoyed expression came over his face as he lowered his hands, inspecting the nails on his hands. The clean nails had grown, becoming jaundiced with a yellow colour as they funneled into sharp, pointed claws. He lifted out his foot, seeing the same thing occurring to his toenails—yellowed and sharper. Across his stomach in faded patches was a faint grey colour, the skin slowly making the shift to a tougher, scaled hide. Caleb had seen this before. He took a deep breath and let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head as he got up and walked across the carpeted floor, his heel starting to lift off the floor slightly as he punched the on button for his computer, grabbing his red towel and began walking to the shower. This wouldn’t get to him today. He had shit to do.

Every step across the small lounge room upstairs was one that lifted his heel more off the ground, the skin there darkening to and transitioning to an even darker shade as he reached the stairs, beginning to descend. His tongue ran over the growing fangs in his mouth, trying to ignore the occasional brief shooting pains that shot through his jaw, which cracked subtly as his nose slowly was pulled out, his teeth pushing against the skin on his mouth as the beginnings of a draconic beak formed. He held onto the rail of the wooden steps, taking the seventeen steps down to the lower floor as the yellowed claws in his hand grew thicker, becoming one with the bone. The tapping of nails on wood could be heard, the balls on his feet getting flatter as the claws on his toes became more vicious with every step. Despite his shifting body, he didn’t seem to be in any rush, his unimpressed scowl becoming more ferocious with every passing moment.

Reaching the bottom floor, he walked past the small around before the kitchen right into the laundry, making a left into the bathroom while his greying arms thickened with bone and muscle, starting to get longer and larger, his fingers getting stubbier and more hooked. He flicked the light with his knuckle, his thumb in no state to be doing anything right now as he chucked his towel onto the rack on the side, starting to get undressed. His body had been changing underneath here too, feeling the grey scales on his thickening, muscled thigh. He didn’t even bother to ogle at himself, a bit too miffed to play charades with it all as he threw his clothes by the door and leaned down to turn on the water, waiting for it to warm up as he hopped in the shower.

The water felt nice, a unique sensation over the mix of scales and skin as he felt the water in his hair. The sound of the water hitting the metallic scales that were sticking out from his hair was surprisingly harmonic and calming, small discs hardening on the backs on his larger hands as he bent down to pick up the bottle of shampoo. There was nothing that guaranteed he was going to completely lose his hair so he might as fucking well give it a wash. He stood back up, noticing his back wouldn’t straighten properly all the way, something that he just shrugged internally about and began washing his hair amongst the growing headdress of metallic scales.

The hot water worked well to relax his muscles and wake him up some, feeling his spine loosen a little as the swaying nub of a tail began to grow. It grew slowly, thickening as it went along, but didn’t grow much further than down his thigh before he reached back with his long arms and thick, hooked fingers, gripping it loosely and giving it a quick squeeze before he let it down, continuing to clean himself. His posture continued to suffer, hardly noticing the extremely gradual shift as an invisible hand slowly forced him to bow more and more. It was still occurring when he turned off the water to get out of the shower, his fangs more prominent, beak still growing out further into his vision as he grabbed his towel and did the best he could to dry himself off. Wrapping the red fabric around his waist out of modesty, snaking the growing tail downwards, he began to step out of the bathroom, bending down to scoop his pants and underwear into the washing machine. Thank god he got out of those before the tail grew in. At the last moment he turned to look into the mirror, seeing a growing, somewhat humanoid Kommo-o looking back. His neck had thickened slightly, but still had ways to grow. With his curiosity sated, he walked on outwards.

The kitchen was on his right-hand side when he moved out of the laundry, feeling shorter than normal as he headed towards the coffee machine. He opened up the fridge with a clawed hand, more circular scales forming along the length of his large arms as he took out the milk and moved over to get a mug for coffee. Everything was done a bit awkwardly but he worked fast enough, using his curled hands as vague but powerful tools to grasp things like the lid for the milk, pouring about a third of the mug with a singular claw before putting it into the microwave to heat it up for forty-five seconds. Every second waiting for that milk was one that made it painfully aware how long a second was. Under the whirr of the microwave he could feel his spine pop, the feeling of his torso getting leaner and stretching out, still being forced down as he was forced to take up more space in the kitchen. When that time was done he took it out carefully, trying his best to stir in a couple of sugars before putting it under the spout of the pre-prepared coffee machine. As the cup filled with rich brown coffee, the painfully slow drizzle allowed his neck time to grow and stretch, almost hearing the sound of his skin and scales stretching to accommodate as one hand held the towel in place, still focusing on keeping his slowly lengthening tail angled down to the ground. His pinkies, having turned into tiny stubs melted with his grey hands, disappearing as the phantom feeling of his pinkies stayed there for a moment, bothering him endlessly- Oh, coffee was ready.

Taking his mug in one hooked claw, Caleb began to slowly walk his way upstairs, his unsteady step and towel wrapped around his awkward waist making his movements slow to a crawl. The medallion on his forehead had grown to such a large size, his brown hair becoming quite sparse underneath his headdress of scales, making his eyes quite menacing. At least, they would be if they weren’t focused on how much his coffee was moving in the mug, growing ruffles poking out from his shoulders, his neck still getting longer and natural armour still hardening and forming on his body. He took the first, awkward step up the stairs, enough to make his tail spring up and jingle, flinging the red towel onto the floor. He stayed still a moment, making sure the coffee was fine before shaking his head, an annoyed, low growl coming out from his mouth. He didn’t really need the towel at this point, anyways...

He climbed the seventeen steps upwards, the shorter legs making it a bit awkward as he relied on the rails to keep him safe. He had gotten quite a bit larger, making the stairs a bit of an awkward fit, even as new metal scales grew from his sides and back, but he was pleased that his journey was spill free. It was just a short walk to his room now, the completed Kommo-o now freshened up with his coffee, ready for the day.
Caleb stepped back into his room, slowly lowering his coffee onto his desk before picking up his glasses from his bedside table, opening them up carefully between his claws and placing them delicately on the ridge of his beak-like muzzle, sitting down at his chair. He had to do a bit of fidgeting with how far his legs were behind his head, the tail curling down onto the floor as he gripped the mouse and clicked on the icon for his group’s server, moving to the general chat.
“Morning,” He typed slowly and carefully with his claws, trying not to scratch the keys too much, “My day’s pretty shit already, huh.”