The OC Above is Tired (IC)

oooo i'll have caelestis start this off!! :0

Why he'd even tried that to begin with, he hadn’t the slightest clue. Caelestis looked down at the pile of fallen books with slight embarrassment, sighing in frustration. He did not have the energy for this. Only yet another reason why he and books were simply not compatible, it seemed. However, before he was able to reluctantly crouch down to pick them up himself, a girl approached with a few casual, but somewhat reprimanding words, and began to pick them up for him. Alright then. An eyebrow twitched in slight irritation at her tone, but he was still grateful for the help regardless.

"Thank you, and yes, I'm alright," he replied with a polite smile as he retrieved the books from her hands. Kiko's proceeding words weren't quite what he had expected, and it took a moment before he was able to speak in response. 'What an interesting turn,' he chuckled silently in thought.

"Well," Perhaps unrelated, but… "There is someone, in fact." Caelestis gazed to the side almost smugly. Indeed there was. When the teenager shortly ran off, he could only curiously, and somewhat nervously wonder what sort of idea it was that she had in mind. Not that he would ever consider himself to need a wingman, of course, but he wouldn't dismiss any considerate efforts towards helping either. Perhaps it could be fun, even.

"Ooh, you shouldn't have done that," Kiko muttered, planting her hands on her hips while she examined Caelestis. The teenager held her hands behind her back heaving out an exhale before she kneeled down and began lifting up the books he dropped.

"Are you okay, sir? That's a pretty silly feat you were trying to pull," Kiko chirruped, holding up a small stack of books to offer to the elder party.

"Was there someone you were trying to impress? Ooh, I wonder who it is! Show me, show me! Oh, wait, did that stunt exhaust you?" Kiko paused to stare at Caelestis, rubbing her finger against her chin. After a long pause, a wide grin suddenly became plastered on her face. She abruptly turned around, fluttering her eyelashes and allowing her smile to grow wider.

"Idea! Wait here, I'm gonna wingman for you! Ooh, this is gonna be so great..."

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Notes are gonna be under a spoiler! TW for teenage pregnancy! Forgive me if this looks rushed; I was doing some tasks while I was writing and I didn't want to take too long njskfhd.

spoilered because there's teenage pregnancy and abortion talk in here. also because maribelle is REALLY mean in this. kiko i am so sorry.

for np: maribelle takes a while to exhaust from strenuous activity, such as that of her work, but otherwise... she's almost always tired. she's a light sleeper and even then just, like, cannot calm the fuck down. weird sleep anxiety.

M. Pourife leaned back in his seat before looking at the teenager and asking, "So, I assume that buying that pen was pleasant?" At least... He hoped it was? All those subtle (and not-so-subtle) insults that she threw at him in the bookstore really did much to grate on his nerves as he shuffled the position of his legs. "I know a bookstore is nothing like a library, but the bookstores tend to be less strict on how you treat the books after you buy them. After all, they are yours - yours to keep, miss. That is one advantage a bookstore will always have over a library-"

He paused, nonetheless, then leaned in to whisper slightly, "- Unless you happen to know a librarian, miss. Then maybe the discussion is more moot, mm?" Whatever the fuck that meant.

Besides, it was paaaaaaainfuuuuuuuully clear that the scientist was perfectly peppy and cheery compared to the teenager's more somber demeanor- Sure, there was the fact that their first encounter was... A bit awkward- Lizard skulls, bratty intern, and all, but... That was the first time. The second time wasn't that bad either, in spite of all her comments regarding the "utter superiority" of libraries (something that the scientist still stubbornly refused to accept in spite of the points). Perhaps the third time could be the charm, but... The older man could only give his weaker leg a slight shake just to allow the blood to flow more easily. Or at least make it feel like that was the case. (Whether that actually worked was a different story.)

"That asides!" the scientist proclaimed with his usual loudness just seconds later, as well as a wave of his hand to boot- Bitch, this is an indoor environment? Why are you yelling? "I reckon that you should actually buy a book next time, though! As I said earlier, the books from a bookstore are all yours once you get them! You can treat them as well as you want, though there is no fee imposed upon you if you err!" He paused again with a grin as he cocked his head at the girl. "I can... Imagine that money must be a bit of an important concern to you now, mm?"

Are you projecting, old man?

Alas, the middle-aged man seemed oblivious to his own comments while he leaned back in his seat and sighed, "Besides... Maybe it was good in hindsight that you bought that pen... Pens are rather cheap." He paused before giving her another look. "What drew you to it in the first place?" he asked out of sheer curiosity, "Are you planning to draw or write something later? Especially when you get back with that intern of mine?" That last question reeeeeeaaaaally had that weird tone to it; in a way, it was almost as if he didn't know whether he wanted the teenager - edgy or not - gone. Uh oh.

Her reaction to all his incessant rambling, alas, was probably going to contribute to the final decision...

@ NP: the most likely way that M. Pourife will be yeeted is by overworking himself!! he takes his job very seriously and is thus prone to burnout, as well as sleep deprivation. sometimes he also forgets to eat or drink, but it's usually relatively minor compared to what's mentioned.

don't be afraid of going creative though!! I like seeing people having creative takes for these types of threads- 👀

I'll also try my best to do a follow-up for NP if I have the time!!

Zinnia fluttered her eyelashes, heaving out an exhale while she stared at her journal. She tapped her pencil against the lined paper while she subconsciously allowed her lips to purse into a pout. The teenager then allowed her gaze to travel over to the pages in her textbook, then up to Pourife. She allowed her eyes to travel back over to her textbook, examining the words scrawled on one of the pages. Then, she tilted her head back up, shooting another glance at the elder party.

She examined Pourife's expression, noticing how bored he appeared. After she paused to stare at him, Zinnia turned her head back to her journal and allowed a grunt to sound from the back of her throat.

"You know what? Let's take a break," Zinnia squeaked, lifting the cover of her journal so she could shut it. After she lifted it up and placed it in her backpack, she began to pull her textbook over to her and shut the cover. After she pushed herself on her feet, she put her textbook in her backpack, pausing to flinch in reaction to the book clunking against the table. After stretching her arms, Zinnia tilted her head over to Pourife and listened to him speak.

"I need to take a minute and walk around, anyways. Uhm, where's your water fountain at again? I left my bottle at home."

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Notes will be underneath a spoiler!

After the fiasco that was Tabby trying to settle herself onto Roswell's lap like an overgrown dog, Brown gently massaged the upper part of the leidsman's leg and teased, "At least I fed her eventually, mm? I do apologize for her getting so excited, though. I do not normally see her like that unless someone had food along with them, but..." She trailed off, again biting down a laugh while shifting her gaze over to the slightly tattered edges of Roswell's pants. Rude. "... Maybe she just likes your clothing taste," the aristocrat quipped while reaching a hand out to gently stroke the leidsman's cheek.

"I can replace it if you want," she attempted to reassure the leidsman while letting out a restrained chuff, "I do have the money for that, and perhaps an upgrade. For that, and the rest of your outfit, really." Was... Was that a diss? She didn't even seem all that interested in Roswell's open shirt anyhow, instead skipping her gaze directly from the pants to his face. "But only if you want that, otterface. Consider it a way for me to return the favor, mm?" Brown leaned in slightly while her fingertips started to curl slightly around his hair.

"Besides, it's not like I want to learn 'shit' in Starq anyhow. I would much rather prefer something like 'love' or 'kiss,' as you mentioned earlier, honeycomb. Starq is such a lovely language anyhow; I would hate to waste my vocabulary on something as vulgar as that." Oh, thank the Void for that clarification. Maybe. On the other hand, there was no denying that Brown would somehow learn a Starq expletive in time, but... Not now.

For now, in fact, the aristocrat leaned back juuuuust a bit so that she could properly cup Roswell's head and tease, "But look at you, otterface! I think you might be a bit too exhausted for that sort of thing at the moment!" Her hands moved up so that she could properly comb her fingers through his locks- His lard-soaked locks, mind you. Eeeewww. Brown... What are you doing... "Did poor Roswell get his ass kicked by Tabby?" cooed Brown while essentially massaging Roswell's temples with her fingers, "Do I have to lull him to sleep like a baby, so that he can sleep the ache away?"

Which would've been a funny witticism if she planned to ditch his ass as soon as he fell asleep. The problem was that Brown seemed firmly planted on the couch, and the likelihood of the leidsman leaning onto her if he dozed off just... Made the idea of leaving him behind a bit of an asshole move. Congratulations, Roswell. You're a cat now. Fall asleep on Brown, and she might as well become a statue.

So, with a slightly awkward sigh, the middle-aged aristocrat leaned in again so that she could give him a peck on his forehead. Then, a few seconds later, she moved in for a peck on the tip of his nose- Brown. Honey... And a few seconds after that, she pecked him on the lips. Ew! At least this shit wasn't in a public place.

"Whatever," she eventually sniffed while continuing to rub her fingers through his hair, "just make yourself comfortable, otterface. I'll let you know if something comes up, all right?" Brown paused to curl some of the less lard-slicked bits around her fingertips, humming to herself in the meanwhile. With a flutter of her lashes, the virago crooned in a slight trill, "I brought in the fruit bag in case Tabby comes here again. So don't worry about your leg, and do not ask me to sing you a lullaby. It's not worth it, really."

@ NP: it does take a bit for Brown to get physically exhausted, but she's prone to overworking herself in her digs/fights at times!! the same goes for mental exhaustion, which usually stems from day-to-day activities but may also include residual trauma from her earlier years. either way, expect her to be fairly snappy or defensive if this is pointed out; she'll only really relax around your character if she already trusts them, or if they're a cat/feline. u_u

you can go creative for your response though!! dw about sticking 100% to the notes if you don't want to-

NP maaaay also get a follow-up if I have the time!!

Tortellini promptly let out a trill as soon as she heard the sound of a door open. After the Scottish Fold paused to lap up some water from her bowl, she abruptly hobbled out of the kitchen and went to investigate. When she watched Brown and her owner enter the building, Tortellini abruptly began to run over to them while simultaneously letting out a variety of trills. The cat stopped in front of the two, quickly turning her head to look at each individual.

"I had a great time today, Miss Brown," Zinnia chirruped, attempting to talk over Tortellini's squeaking, as well as Gnocchi's screaming in the background. The teenager bent down to stroke the tripod's ears and chin before she made her way in the living room.

"I'll be right back, okay? I'll get some snacks for us...and for the kitties, too," the teenager squeaked, fluttering her eyelashes before she made her way to the kitchen. Now, Brown was left alone with Tortellini, who was now squirming in her spot with anticipation. She wanted hugs, and she wanted those amazing forehead and nose kisses. Tortellini was blissfully unaware of how exhausted and tense Brown was.

The three-legged Scottish Fold abruptly hobbled up to Brown, sniffing at the woman's shoes intently. Then, she let out a string of sneezes, allowing the fur on her back to prick up as she did so. The dust that lingered on the woman's legs irritated Tortellini. The cat didn't care, though; she was with one of her best friends. She hoped that Brown would pick her up and shower her with affection next, or mayhaps put her on her lap so she could curl up in it.

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NP, Tortellini is a cat! She tends to get tired after she plays excessively, after she eats, or if she's curled up somewhere comfy. Go all out!

It was very early- in fact, the sun hadn't even come up. The moon was still out, but was about to set soon. Why was Sami taking a walk at this time? Who even knows. During his walk, he decided to take a little trip through the woods. As he walked through the forest, the deeper he went, the more prominent a sound of growling had appeared. Of course, he went towards the growling, just to see what it was. He was curious, maybe he could help. As Sami approached the sound, he came across this.. wolf? Werewolf, maybe? He approached quietly, trying not to spook him, or worse, make him feel threatened.

Sami stood on his toes, and tapped the werewolf's shoulder, "Hey, are you okay..?" He backed up soon after, when he spun around to see who tapped his shoulder. Sami sort of put his arms up in that defensive pose a bit, just in case, though there obviously wasnt much effort to it. After a moment, he put his arms down. "..You're tired." He could tell in this beast's expression. He knew that expression very well. It hung on his own face practically all the time. "Do you need somewhere to rest?" he added, listening to his answer, very attentively. "I don't know if you'll fit in my doorway, but.. I could bring some blankets back here..? My house isn't far." He looked around for a moment. Actually, where was he? In the forest, of course, but he didn't know which way he came now. "..uh- nevermind, I dont think I can." He sighed, sitting down on the ground, and he'd pat the spot next to him, yawning. "Well, guess we're staying here for the night, unless you know the way out." Sami was a bit nervous, but that didn't stop him from being nice. Being company is nice thing to do. "You can sleep, i'll.. protect you! Yeah.." He'd yawn again. Like hes going to even stay up. 

Was it weird to be literally the only person in a cafe, about 30 minutes before closing, sitting there and chugging coffee like there was no tomorrow? Probably, but Black didn’t exactly care right now. Despite the fact it was getting dark, Black had just woken up, and caffeine withdrawal was kicking his ass. Only compounding that, he had a late-night Company meeting to go to, as well as a target to kill afterwards. He did just want to stay home and lay in bed all day, because depression was a thing, after all, but alas…

After the cup he had been drinking was empty, he slowly walked up to Ace and quietly asked, “Hey, can I get another large cup of-” but stopped when he saw how exhausted he looked. In hindsight, maybe it was an asshole move to be here so close to closing, but then again, he was an asshole a lot… Despite that, he decided he may as well be somewhat nice for once. “Never mind. You look tired as shit. Do you need to sleep? It is kind of close to closing time, I suppose, so I wouldn’t be surprised. You can take a nap here, if you want. I’m not going to tell your supervisors or whoever. I’m not a Karen who wants baristas to get fired because they’re people. You all have to pay bills and shit too.” Black didn’t exactly know that a nap may not actually be useful, considering Ace didn’t actually need to sleep, but it was the thought that counted, I suppose. “Or, I can just buy you a coffee that you can make, if you don’t get free coffee for working here. I mean, it helps me, but I probably shouldn’t be compared to a normal person in that regard. Or I can just leave, if that helps?”

Thanks to a combination of self-neglect and depression, Black is pretty much always tired. He uses caffeine to try and counter it, though that doesn't help in the long run, because if he doesn't get caffeine for a while, withdrawal will only make his already-bad fatigue worse. Don't let any of that limit you, though!

"Here's the wine you asked for," Smithson grunted while setting down the glass as promised, "though you probably should try to mask your drunkenness if that's an issue for you. You know how my wife generally isn't the type to be forgiving towards drunkards. It's funny, because her parents weren't exactly the drinking type themselves..." Oh?

A few seconds passed before he muttered, "Never mind," under his breath and took a step back. As he fucking deserved. Smithson couldn't help but raise a brow and scrutinize the arbiter while the latter undoubtedly chipped away at his own work... Or something like that. "I hope that you've been doing well, though," he added in an attempt to shift the conversation towards a less awkward angle, "I know it's been a while since we've last spoken, but you've been busy. So busy that you ended up setting station here instead of your own office, but it might be due to the fact that the documents in question are concerning our son..." Another pause.

"Right?" Oh, how Smithson wasn't even sure if he wanted it to be the case or not...

In fact, Smithson's mind was almost in a dazed haze while he took another step back and shook his head. His gaze drifted over to the glass, which had felt devilishly cold against his fingertips when he had personally served it to the younger party. In hindsight, that was a foolish decision, regardless of their personal dynamic; he should've had a servant transport the glass over, like how he had a servant pour the wine for him. That was why the glass in question was, in fact, two-thirds of the way filled - as was proper for aristocratic customs. Two-thirds full, or one-third empty?

"Did you manage to find your wife, by the way?" he asked with a raised brow, as the older man resorted to leaning against the doorway as his way of remaining alert in spite of the night ticking by, "My own wife pointed that out when she found you once. I'm glad that you two get along, of course, so there's no use for me complaining, but..." Was it true now? Smithson couldn't help but furrow his own brow in contemplation, if only because he - too - was being a bit unnerved lately. So much politics, so much personal affairs...

"... I do have to comment on your work. You're going to need some rest if you want it to not become subpar, sir. Take the merlot as an anesthetic, or maybe abstain from it if you wish to remain awake for a bit longer." Uhhh...

Smithson's voice remained a monotonous drawl while he continued to lean against the doorway. His eyes, in fact, almost seemed to droop for a second, but... It wasn't worth pointing out, in all honesty. The chandelier light was only going to get brighter, thanks to the smog covering up the moon and stars in this urban-adjacent area... Smithson eventually just opted to look away, because there was no way in hell he was going to become "tired man" solidarity with anyone in this very moment. Hubris was a bitch.

@ NP: Smithson is.... an asshole. who would've guessed. either way, he's most likely going to be the exasperated or snappy sort of tired, though what's getting on his nerves in the first place is up to you since truthfully, it could be anything rfdgtvgfdbfdg- on a slightly less problematic note, he's also rather prone to overworking himself and often deals with burnout as a result!!

as always, feel free to go creative in terms of response.... :)c

I'll also try my best to do a follow-up for NP if I have the time....