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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iamthelordthygod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
thedudeabides2018-03-05 01:01 am
10
[Even as the world proves that the JTF isn't necessary. Even as more and more of the Division's personnel break ranks. As more and more, the only beacons they see out there in the ruins of New York are blood-red instead of sunny orange. Ortega stays here and holds things together as best she can.]
[There's almost none of the old guard left. She makes her way through the empty halls, away from the intel wing. Her goal lies down below where civilians gather to sleep for the night. By now, anyone who's spent a long time in the Base of Operations knows the surly South Boston boy by reputation alone. No one asks him about his eyes. No one dares to ask why he's here instead of out there.]
[She coughs politely before tapping Voodoo on the arm.]
Sorry, don't mean to bug you during the middle of the night, but we got a request for you upstairs. I'd deliver it, but it's a request for you in-person. [A shrug, even if he can't see it.]
Figured you could use some time away from the civilians, too.
[Away from what he is, if just for a little time.]
10
The hatch that previously led into Jane's quarters now opens onto what her mother might call a "sitting room". Large French windows and couches dominate the walls, though it's too dark to see what kind of scenery, if any, is out there. A large brick fireplace, flush against one wall, has been put to work by whoever beat her here. Flames crackle in it, reaching ever upward atop a pile of thick and charring logs.
She pauses at the threshold, ears pricked, breath held. There are habits she can't let go, as ingrained to her body as her heartbeat.
But damn, those couches look good.
Nothing moves after a few seconds. That's enough to placate her into a proper entrance, and even now, after two and a half days on her feet, she still strides with purpose, which lasts until she collapses onto the overstuffed cushions.
The N7 hoodie and jeans she so clearly favors will never pass muster for any of the number of diplomatic pow-wows she has to attend, both in the near and more distant future, but she's grateful Hackett's never objected. They're clean, which is more that can be said for her, still sand-blasted and sunburned from Tuchanka, back slumped, shoulders slouched and eyes baggy and red.
("I'm going up there."
"I don't think that's a good idea, Commander."
"I didn't ask what you thought. He's my crew-")]
Those are memories that still ache, for now. Time will tell if she - if any of them - will live long enough for that ache to dull.
She digs out the cigarettes and lighter she bummed off of Cortez and lights up, hands cupped to hide the flame, just like she learned on Elysium. She pauses as the flame catches, bracing herself. It's been years, but-
She breathes it in in one slow and deep go, feeling the acrid vapor curl around her throat and fill her lungs. Already, to her annoyance, she can feel some of the nanomachines Cerberus put in her bloodstream get to work mitigating damage to her alveoli. She pauses, holds the smoke in - and then exhales just as slow, fighting the urge to hack up a lung as she finishes. A smile twitches at the corner of her mouth.]
Still got it.
no subject
[Kaidan and Ashley still linger at the scenic overlook in the Wards, looking out across the breadth of the Citadel. She doesn't join them; the thumping bass music of Chora's Den has amped that headache up to almost blinding levels. The elevators are always a good choice. She just needs a moment to collect herself before continuing the attempt to knock Saren down a peg or two.]
[The doors open after an eternity. But it isn't the Presidium that she walks into. It's... somewhere else. Somewhere that almost looks like an ambassador's office back on Earth. Instantly, she feels out-of-place in full armor. She takes one step away from the door. Stand there.]
[An awkward silence falls.]
Must have hit my head harder than I thought.
no subject
If you're dead, so am I.
[Her reassurances, such as they are, tend to be hit or miss. People go to Chakwas or Kelly - went to Kelly - for that. Regardless, she waves Olivia in, the cinders on her cigarette smoldering.] You want to stay and keep me company, you can.
[She pauses, then pulls a small cocktail glass over to her. There aren't any ashtrays around. It'll do. She pulls her eyes away from the door and takes another long drag, the tip of the cigarette lighting up cherry-red.]
I'm not ready to head back out there just yet.