It happens to everyone - sometimes, you have nights where you just can't fall asleep, no matter what you do. It could be for a number of reasons, or no reason at all. And this is what's happened now: you've been laying in bed for what feels like hours, just tossing and turning, and nothing seems to help. So what's left to do? Get out of bed and go wake someone else up, of course. If you're not getting any sleep, then why should they?
i n s t r u c t i o n s • Post with your character (note the name and fandom in the subject).
• Other people reply to you by generating a number from 1 to 10.
• Have fun!
o p t i o n s 01 • FEAR. Maybe you're hearing strange, indeterminable noises; maybe there's a severe storm happening outside; maybe you watched a scary movie before bed? Whatever the reason, you're terrified and it's keeping you awake. You just want to wake someone else up so they can protect you from the monster in your closet.
02 • HUNGER. Your stomach is growling and it just won't stop. Or perhaps your throat is so dry you could cough up a tumbleweed? Well, you've gone to the kitchen to remedy this and hey, that was a pan that just dropped on the floor. It was loud enough to wake the dead! Oops.
03 • PAIN. Your body is completely worn out, be it from exercise, battle, sickness, or what have you. Either way you're in enough pain to keep you from sleeping, so maybe someone else has a home remedy or something, or can at least help you take your mind off of it.
04 • SOLITUDE. For some reason, your bed just feels so empty at the moment. You're feeling terribly lonely and really just want someone to keep you company for a while. Maybe it'd be easier to fall asleep if you're with them...
05 • DISCOMFORT. Your room is an oven. Either that or a freezer. Or maybe this bed is just really uncomfortable? Who knows why you can't get to sleep, it feels like it could be anything. Why even bother trying? Maybe someone else can preoccupy you until you feel tired enough to ignore your discomfort.
06 • PENSIVE. Something's on your mind, and no matter how hard you try to focus elsewhere, it's just not going to work. Your body may be tired, but your mind is incredibly busy and it's virtually impossible to get to sleep. Surely, talking it out with someone else will help?
07 • SADNESS. Something terrible has happened that day, perhaps; or you could just be severely depressed. Either way you're trying your hardest not to cry yourself to sleep, and it's not working at all. Better find a way to get it out of your system somehow; you need a shoulder to cry on.
08 • ANGER. You are just... fuming. Who knows why - that annoying dog is barking again, or maybe the people next door are getting busy and keeping you awake. Whatever the reason for your ire is, you'd better put an end to it so you can get some damn rest already! Go wake up a friend so you can complain to them.
09 • RESTLESS. You're far too energetic to sleep right now. Maybe you're just trying to do so out of necessity - you have to be up early tomorrow! But you just don't think you'll be able to fall asleep for a while now, so why waste the time trying to sleep when you could be doing something else? Namely bothering someone else - you're totally jealous because they're getting more sleep than you.
10 • WILDCARD. Choose one of the options above, or make up your own scenario. |
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bakerstreet2016-07-07 05:55 pm
(PLS LIVE A LONG AND HAPPY LIFE DON'T DIE BECAUSE OF MCNUGGETS)
She's missed her family. ]
Ah yes, my entourage. and we'd use the metal exam table as a dinner table. There was no avoiding us with Reinhardt and Winston shoulder to shoulder; they'd fill the hall and the only course was to line up along the sides. Sometimes the newer recruits would even salute, thinking it was some sort of inspection. [ The memories bring easy laughter to her lips, cozy and quiet even as her eyes twinkled. ] I do enjoy it better this way, I think. The extra hands would be an immense help, but this is... home.
[ Jack... if you're avoiding sleep, you are indeed having problems with it. Don't mince words with her! She realizes the question had backed him into a corner on its own, no matter how gently she may have approached it. There's an apology in the way she reaches for him once he sits beside her and answers, a hand on his knee. ]
Of course I have. For over six years now. [ Worrying about you, no less. ] But sometimes it is necessary to give your mind the time it needs to process and your body the time to properly sort itself out. I have a few techniques. I've been sleeping better since the recall, however, so there have been worries eased off my shoulders.
[ She'll sip her coffee and let him think about that. ]
(HOW CAN IT BE HAPPY IF I'M SUFFERING)
One, two. Then he brings his hand up- doesn't move it over hers, instead he moves to press it against the side, fingers curled to mirror the other's.] It made a hell of a show. Kept the recruits on their toes.
Well. [He swallows hard, shifts to set the glass down, face her properly. She's offering help, has been for a while, so why is it so difficult for him to accept it? Don't do this here, Jack. He nods.] I'd like that, doc. If you think it might help.
Do I look that bad?
(BECAUSE LEAVING THE NUGGET LIFE MEANS YOU WON'T BE UNWASHED HOBO VIGILANTE TRASH DAD ANYMORE)
[ He hesitates when she touches him, but eventually the warmth of his hand seeps through his glove and she'll slip her pinky and ring fingers under his, never taking things too far— letting him adjust to the idea. A tiny connection.
He turns to face her and she can see a partial reflection in his visor, in the dull sheen of metal over his jaw. Her hair is mussed, and her sweater's falling off her shoulder. She'll just. Quietly fix that with a roll of said shoulder and a brush of her fingers. ]
I might be able to answer that more efficiently if I could actually see your face. But yes, there are little things.
[ They're really not so little, but she is trying to be gentle. Jack had never been a man that liked having his weaknesses brought up and rubbed in his face. It went against his very image he was expected to uphold, and she'd learned early on to approach with caution when she needed to nudge him in the right direction. ]
I can see that you're exhausted and haven't let yourself have near enough sleep. Your body is showing signs of that strain put upon it, never given the chance to rest and repair itself. Even just a few hours will help immensely.
[ She turns to face him as well, one leg curling up on the couch while she shifts back into the little corner between the back and arm, lounging as casually as possible. It's only human nature to mimic those near them, so he may follow suit to see her relaxing. ]
( DAMMIT wait who told you I don't bathe regularly)
I know this is just an observation based on your experience, but damn, doc. [A short laugh as he shifts again, squeezes her fingers with his out of instinct, out of a homesickness. (He must sound pathetic.) 76 is trying to be better. Trying.] I've been trying. Small naps around the base.
[Not that those ever last long. His body jolts up for one reason or another: someone coming, a nightmare, a glimpse of red. But here, he isn't thinking about any of that. Thinking on how a person can say sorry and how many times they can do it by action. So he defers to her, takes in a slow breath when he sees her loosen up, body bordering between following and staying.]
.... Is seeing my face that important?
(your vigilante lifestyle)
I'm in the business of prying open stubborn soldiers, what can I say? [ She'll laugh with him even if it's quiet, moving to cover his hand with her other and squeeze back. She's missed this. She's missed him. So many things about him are different and she wants to learn about them all, but some things? Still the same old Jack. The way he took to her touch and the sound of his laugh, even if it was dry and dusty, his voice having changed. He never used to sound so... grizzled. Angry. There's bitterness and ashes where once it'd been the cozy warmth of a fireplace. She's trying so hard not to overwhelm him. ] How long do those last?
[ She's onto you, Jack Morrison. Angela's familiar with that level of fitfulness and discomfort. One well-placed hand on someone's back has soothed away plenty of nightmares following trauma on the battlefield, sticking with her soldiers and easing them through the process of coming to terms with losing something or someone important to them, or simply working through a recruit's first war. She's no stranger to the sorts of demons that could sink their teeth into good men.
So when he remarks on seeing his face, no matter how it makes her ache to say otherwise, she'll give him an exasperated little huff and a smile, shaking her head. ]
It would be, to me; but only if you're comfortable.
[ She has an inkling of just how much he has to sort through, seeing what sort of weight is on his shoulders. For now, she has his hand in hers and he's here. That's enough for one night. ]
( I bet batman didn't have this problem )
But here is Angela Ziegler looking as if she hasn't aged in a day, as if none of the horrors they've been through have affected her. He knows better than to believe that, knows that everone who hurts goes through her, and if she hurts, that's why she needs them for. Maybe not for medical advice, but companionship. A need to know that she isn't alone in this. He grunts for the question, head lowered slightly.]How long are naps supposed to last? Maybe a half hour, if I'm lucky.
[He can't lie. She'll know, and he'll know that she knows. Which might be why he stills at her answer about his face, his free hand twitching where it is against his leg. His voice is low, tired and he leans in, turns his head to press his brow to hers, mindful not to bump her with the visor and mask.]
- I'm sorry, Angela. [Not tonight.]
( I bet batman also didn't have a hot nurse )
[ Her voice carries all her sadness and empathy, not able to fathom how exhausted he must be. Even at the height of her post-Overwatch depression, she HAD forced herself to keep going. To get enough sleep. Other lives depended on her to be well rested and coherent and she had made it happen.
But he leans into her and presses his brow to hers and he dares to try and apologize. She'll slip one arm from between them to rest over his shoulders, nails buried in his hair to swirl little circles in his scalp. Angela can at least do this much. ]
You don't have to apologize; take your time. I'm so glad to have you back.
( what do you mean alfred's not attractive? )
Didn't even think he would have to do this.] No, I have to. For this, for letting everything go to Hell-
I'm sorry. [It's slow, quiet after his words but he moves. He reaches up and settles a hand at her lower back, like that's where it's supposed to be. His head is a mess and the exhaustion doesn't help.] Please, let me apologize.
(he's all handsome, class, & scotch lapped from his elderly abs, but he ain't no hot nurse nawmean)
It's the little things you never thought you still needed, even something as simple as a hug from an old friend. Angela cradles the back of his head against her and she'll shift just enough to slip her hand further into his between them, lacing her fingers through his to give him a little squeeze. Something to anchor him even if he pulls away from the embrace. Her nails comb through his hair slowly, soothing, taking her time in letting his words sink in. ]
You're taking too much of the blame on yourself. Everyone involved shared a part of that; even I... I couldn't bring you two back together. I couldn't help either of you see the bigger picture, and I was just as blind to his motivations and what he hid from us all.
[ She won't say his name. Jack was in enough turmoil as it is. ]
The fault lies in all of our laps. You're not alone in this, and even united, there's only so much we could have done against the UN and their decisions. [ It feels silly having to even say the words to him, but she will anyway. Anything that will help calm the storm. ] You already know I've long-since forgiven you. From the moment we found you in the rubble and you were still alive. I wouldn't be able to take losing anyone else.
[ Overwatch was— is— her family. Jack moreso. He was the one who had brought her in and given her a place in this world, who had fought for funding and supported her through all her battles with her research and its usage. It was for Jack and her family that she had developed the damage boosting properties of her nanotech, essentially weaponizing it which went against everything she ever thought she stood for. There's no denying how important this man is to her.
And she has to be strong and support him here, now. At least he can't see her struggle keeping back her tears when she gives him a gentle little tug to ease his brow to her shoulder, resting her cheek against his temple. Hearing the defeat and exhaustion in his voice lances right through her, but she can't let him regret coming to her. ]
Only if you'll try to get some rest after.
[ There's no question that she'll stay here with him. Her blanket from before is still about her shoulders and there's another in reach to cover him with. She had no reason to move from this spot. ]
(.... you win this time, doc.)
Soldier 76 didn't expect to come back and be in this situation, didn't think that a late night walk would bring him here, to her. He isn't falling apart but it feels like it, the way he all but melts into her, trying to convey how much he's missed this, missed her and - he could say he missed Overwatch, but there's too much anger towards what happened right now, blocking judgments he's not fit to make. His hand takes the one she moves into his properly, squeezes.
Listening to her makes him grip her hand a little tighter.] It didn't make sense at the time. Thought I was so right, didn't wanna listen to anyone, not even you.
[She's forgiven him. Always has and still does, but it's terrifying, Because if she forgives him, where does it stop and how much can he do? What if he loses that one day? Already thought that he had. So he listens to her, turns his head and takes in a breath, fingers curling against her back. Does it feel like home? He doesn't want to answer that, worried that he'll lose it. Jack Morrison. Soldier 76. Where does the line end, how much does he have and how much of that really is his? Is it Jack's?
Angela wasn't his to begin with. A friend, someone close to him who he trusted, had faith in. He wants to pull away, knows this is too much at once, every other warning in his brain telling him to leave, but. He doesn't. He can't.]
I can't make any promises. [Still, he hesitates and shakes his head, a low noise as he straightens up his response. Doesn't want to give the wrong impression..] I can try. Will that work?
[A pause, then lifting his head:] This isn't the most comfortable place to sleep.
( /fingerguns ALSO UGH SAD DAD BACK )
It's all right, Jack. You've taken time to think about it and realized where you went wrong; you'd had so much on your plate for so long, and hundreds of soldiers to oversee. No one on this planet could have done half of what you did without anyone at your side to help you. You still did so much good and you've inspired so many people— Overwatch is only back together because so many of us believe in what you'd created. Still want to fight for this world.
[ She would never let him go astray. Not again. Just as he's obsessed over what had happened those last six years, so too has the doctor. What she could have done differently, where she should've bent and where she should've applied pressure, advice she had held in her heart and never given because they were already so run down and tired. Angela will be blunt where she needs to be and make him take advice this time around. He can think what he wishes; she's been on hand for him whenever he may need her from day one. What has it been now? Over fifteen years. That's why she's careful not to push too far or trap him; she won't hug him too tight or make him feel like he can't get up and leave the second his threshold is met or the alarms go off and he feels the need to retreat. Even with that in mind she's still gentle, still doting, carding through his hair almost lazily as she relaxes back into the couch. He's so warm. ]
I'll accept trying. I know you don't like making promises you can't keep.
[ With his admission though, she laughs easily.
WOW HOW DARE U HER BOSOM IS AMAZING AND PERFECTLY PILLOWY???]I suppose not; would you like me to move so you can lay down? The couch is the most comfortable thing here.
( SAD DAD HERE TO STAY TBH )
[Now, he's taking solace in the fact that so many people answered it, came back. Still doesn't know how he feels about the recall overall, but this is enough.] Everyone wants to fight for this world still.
[He turns his head against her again, feels like he can breathe against her a little better when she answers him. The offers gets him to pause, his grip against her firm, not willing to budge at the idea of moving elsewhere. Like they won't be able to get this right a second time.] Then where would you sleep?
no subject
He should have known she'd be one of the first ones back to the recall. Approaching it warily all the same, but she'd rather be on hand than otherwise. Experience to temper the younger souls and their recklessness, offer up advice and guidance to stay under the radar. She'd had enough experience with that. ]
We all have to live in it, after all. Is it so strange? The resources and bases already exist. It's a sturdy framework to build back up on.
[ Perfectly logical, presented simply. Some aspects are like they'd never left; many more show that passage of time, in the mental aging of those involved, in the broken down abandoned parts of the quarters Winston couldn't get to. The concerted effort to get things back in working order and cleaned up had been... nice. Everyone still cared.
Nicer still to have Jack here. Holding tight despite her offer to move, keeping her where she is. It's selfish how glad she is for it, wanting to hoard him for herself a little longer. His breathing relaxes when he shifts and she can feel the warmth of it through the venting in his mask, against her chest, cradling his head in a little hug as her fingers slip higher up into his hair. ]
There's room for two...?
[ Floated out there gently; not like she'd get any sleep. She'll keep watch over him and keep the ghosts haunting him away at least for tonight. It'd also paint an odd picture if anyone happened to come in and saw her curled up on the couch with someone presumed to be a stranger— this vigilante who had shown up and offered his skill to the cause. If she's awake, she'd have enough time to slip off the couch and draw the separating surgical curtain to cover him before anyone could round the bend to her office. ]
no subject
He shakes his head as he sits back, takes her in for everything there is: words, being, genuine concern. Again, he tries to compose himself and relax because he needs to. Won't be able to get even a minute of rest if he's thrashing about. He'll make it even worse for her if he does so he moves back against her, head to a shoulder, reveling in the touch. ] It doesn't even look like it could fit Reinhardt.
[A jab, quite as he debates it, fingers drumming against her back. There's a small 'sorry' in that before he shifts and tugs her with him so they're both on the couch, sitting on it side by side more than laying down. The position changes so he shifts his hands, gets an arm around her shoulders and sits against her side, leaning his head on a shoulder.]
- Is this worse than it was before? [The position, he means. Not the metaphorical situation of shit on them.]
no subject
We'll it's good I'm not as large as Reinhardt, then.
[ Is he uncomfortable? Does he not want her to stick around...? She could come unhinged from the worry if he weren't keeping ahold of her when he shifts, her hands lifting off of him to allow him to move freely before settling back in his hair, adjusting the way her fingers settle between his. Tries not to laugh when he's struggling to get comfortable, but the amusement's in her eyes with how he'd tugged her over on the couch so he can try to rest his head back on her shoulder and get an arm about her. She'll be as malleable as possible to fit against him no matter how he moves or where he wants to hold onto her, letting go of his hand and bending her arm up to swirl her fingertips in the whorl of his hair. ]
Hmmm...
[ She'll give it a few moments, debating, and while she doesn't mind being quite so upright... She can't be that comfortable to sleep on like this; isn't her shoulder bony? It's likely easier for him than how they'd been before. Her perched on the edge and him leaning so far forward into her. That's hard on the back if nothing else.
Yeah, it's not really working for her. ]
It... it is, a bit. Why don't you just lay down and I'll make myself fit? Don't worry about me.
[ She's sure she'll be able to lay right against him and tangle her legs up in his over the opposite arm if they won't both fit with their legs bent at the knees, but if not, she wouldn't mind sitting on the floor and simply resting her arms on the couch cushions beside him, chin nestled in the crook of her elbow. The only problem was the length of the couch, not the width. There's feather pillows to squish under their heads propped in the corners and plenty of blankets if their own warmth wasn't enough to share.
Bless the awkward moments in life. But they're so worth it. She'll slip out of his grip and pass an affectionate little touch over his head, motioning for him to lay down while she grabs the pillow in the opposite corner to set where his head will go. ]
no subject
He shifts, glances down at his gear and looks back up to her - don't say anything is the look he's giving her, but she can't tell with the mask. Still, worth an effort. Taking in a breath, he settles a hand on his stomach and the other behind his head.] ... All right, you win.
[The couch is more comfortable.] You gonna stay? I don't wanna impose.
no subject
[ She frets just the slightest amount as he huffs, wringing her hands as he adjusts— but she can tell once he lays down it'll be more comfortable for him. He's on his back and there's plenty of room for her, sitting right back down to join him after catching the way he looks down at his gear; it doesn't bother her. She'll fold her legs so her knees fit under the arch of his own, laying on her side, adjusting her blanket over him and reaching for the one draped over the back to cover their legs.
See? Have some faith. There's even room to rest her head on her pillow next to his, feeling his bicep brushing against the top of her head. One arm curls up between them to cross over her breasts an rest on the opposite shoulder, reaching with her other hand to lace her fingertips between his. Barely touching, but it's enough. ]
I usually do. [ Cheeky, closing her eyes. She can pretend to sleep if it'll make him feel better, lights already low. ] You're not imposing at all, Jack. There's always a place for you here.
[ "With me" goes unsaid; that was a bit too intimate for this visit. But he'll still know what she meant. They'd been friends now for nearly twenty years. It takes more than an empty coffin to fill that void. ]
no subject
[When she comes to join him, he keeps as still as possible so he can wait for her to settle. Once she does, he shifts accordingly, making sure he's comfortable while considering the space that Mercy needs to take in to be comfortable herself. She's accommodating, and he'll try to give in turn. He hesitates at the touch of fingers but moves to press their palms together, the other hand by his head running fingers through his hair, thinking.] Don't get a big head.
I- [Clearing his throat for that, before turning his eyes to the ceiling and away from her, still somewhere else, always somewhere else.] I'm glad to hear it. Sleep well, doc.
no subject
[ She can't help the little laugh she tries to bury in her pillow at that, giving his hand a little squeeze when his fingers slip further into hers and their palms press together even through the glove. It's something. It's warmth.
Angela feels his eyes leave her and she wonders with a gentle amusement if she'd embarrassed him. She could almost see the color in his cheeks, but her mental image of him was so much younger. Still blond if streaked in a bit of grey when you looked closer, the only wrinkles at the corners of his eyes just beginning to form. It's only altered to adjust for the white hair, thin from stress. ] You as well. I'll be here.
[ Sleep wouldn't come to her, but she can at least rest her eyes while she stays vigilant for him. ]
good spot to end?
The closeness is enough. He doesn't reach over to tug her closer, but he squeezes where their fingers are laced just barely and he lets out a breath. Even out your breathing. Makes it easier to sleep. Would he?
They'd find out later.]