you wake each day with your thoughts [OPEN]

[reassures]

Who| Nill and YOU
What| A week in the life of Nill. There's like 5 different prompts.
Where| All over!
When| Any time from the 20th up to the arena.
Warnings/Notes| One prompt involves staring at alcohol. Will update as needed.

(a.) rooftop, any night; 6am - 7:30am.
One of the nicer things about being granted a full pass by the Capitol is not only that Nill gets to come and go whenever she pleases, but that when she's on the rooftop at night, there are very few people who actually come to join her. While she's more than happy for company, there's also something very nice about it being dark out, and finding the world mostly quiet save for the background noise of a city that doesn't follow the same constrictive rules that the rest of the tributes need to.

She spends most nights before the end of the curfew up on the roof, matching stars and constellations, smoking quietly with company or without. But lately the days have grown shorter and the nights longer, which has given her more time to spend star gazing before she heads back down to her own district. Long enough that if anyone was awake, they could easily find her there and join her after the curfew had ended.

(b.) various district suites, any night; 11pm - 4am.
With the start of curfew comes Nill making her way to the various suites in the tower. It's been awhile since she began doing this, checking if there was anything anyone needed to help get them through the night, so she doesn't go to every single floor. But chances are if she knows even one person on a floor she'll drop by, stepping off the elevator with a small smile on her face and a knock on the wall to announce her presence before she goes further inside.

Need a junkfood fix? Someone to keep you company if you're awake at some random hour and confined to your floor? Maybe a cigarette? Nill's got your back.

(c.) District 9 suite; throughout any night
As always, Nill never spends a great deal of time in her own suite with her district-mates. Having the curfew forced on everyone so soon after her arrival left her with little desire to remain there for extended periods of time, so she spends as often as she can anywhere but there, but it doesn't mean she's not willing to get things for the people she lives with, or spend time with them if invited. She really should get to know them better. She'll probably wander back for one thing or another every other hour or so, though she does try to be quiet for the sake of the people actually sleeping.

(d.) Day; any time
The daytime hours are much more in contrast with what Nill occupies herself with at night. While the night is spent running arbitrary errands or spending time with whoever seems to be around or in need of it, day time is usually reserved for running errands, finding food, going to the library, the training center. Her days are very routine, and she seems to like it that way, or she wouldn't keep it up, right?

Every day finds her in the training center, trying to learn another simple skill. This week has found her trying to memorize the list of plants that you can eat, and she goes through the options on the screen, trying to match as many as she can. It's obvious when she gets one wrong, because she visibly cringes every time it happens But there are a dozen other stations, and Nill is more than glad to switch it up every few hours, although she almost never goes near the weapons.

(e.) common area, 11/24; 8pm - 9pm. [the alcohol prompt.]
It's not often that Nill can be found at the bar in the tribute tower, but that's where anyone wandering past will spot her today. Granted, she hasn't left herself very visible. She's found a place tucked away in a corner, one of the few booths the place seems to have, and in front of her she's got several things spread out. Two different books, a ringed notebook that she seems to be taking notes in from the books, a pencil or two. Her usual notepad meant for communication is off to the side at the edge of the table, folded and left open. The only words written on the page are a drink order, and a polite thank you below it.

Across from her a glass of something that smells suspiciously like whiskey sits with a lemon wedge, as it has since the bartender brought it over to her. Every so often she glances up from her work to gauge how much of the ice has melted, even though it's all long since gone. Occasionally she stops what she's doing to stretch a little, rub at where the handful of bandages on her fingers are irritating her skin, and watches the drink as if it will do something, before she sets back to her work.

Nill hasn't so much as touched it. She's been sitting there with it for at least an hour. The bartender has been kind enough not to come by again.

(f.) post-arena announcement and "Lonestar's" execution.
It's honestly dumb to be as obvious as she is, but it's hard for her to do much about it. Not only did the Capitol publicly execute a kid, but they just announced that there was going to be an Arena soon, one of the real ones with only one victor and potentially weeks or months of looking over your shoulder waiting for someone to come and kill you.

And that's terrifying, because for as much as Nill has been able to do in the past, for all the things she's survived, her last two experiences with anything like an Arena barely lasted a day, and she only survived one of those because she got lucky.

So Nill has taken it upon herself to smoke at almost every waking second until they haul them off. Anyone that looks closely enough will see her hands shaking slightly whenever she goes to light a new one. Outside of that her day stays mostly the same as far as her schedule goes, errands, busy work to keep her mind from wandering, it's just that she does it with a constant haze of smoke around her, regardless of whether she's inside or outside. The only other time she's smoked indoors was during the Kid Arena.

There's also a very ugly bruise taking up most of her forehead and almost making it look like she's got at least one black-and-blue eye. Some of it's been covered up with makeup, but makeup can only do so much for someone that bruises like a peach and tried to break someone's face with her head.

It's been a rough week.

((ooc: this is basically a catch all. Got anything specific you want and I can stick something in here for you. Just let me know! Feel free to tag in whenever you like, and for as many prompts as you like.))

Comments

Training center

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley was lurking around the training center in her traditionally scanty shorts and tanktop when she spotted Nill playing a game that Harley had dubbed "The Pammy game" in honor of her fallen friend.

Tip toeing closer she watched silently and when the round completes she claps cheerfully.

"Getting better every time." She praised cheerfully.

[reassures]

Nill actually jumps a little, wings flapping like an indignant pigeon, before turning her attention to Harley, a quick, awkward smile making it's way onto her face. She's usually pretty good She'd noticed someone was there, but certainly wasn't expecting the clapping, though Nill does blush a little at the praise.

She mouths 'thank you' and hits the pause button before the next round starts up.

E! (I'm sorry ahead of time)

[a_minute_younger]

"You're welcome!"

This is not the bartender. Gary leans over the table, connected to an aggressively fizzing drink by a straw and looking as chipper and enthusiastic as ever. Nill wasn't in the Mini-Arena with him, but if Haruto's reactions to it were any indication, checking up on the adults to make sure they're all functioning and happy is something he needs to do, too.

Clearly, interrupting them in the middle of some intensive work is the best way to do this. "Long time, no see! Did you miss me?"

gary is fantastic apologize for nothing

[reassures]

Well, Nill certainly recognizes the tone of that voice, even if she doesn't necessarily recognize the sound. She lifts her head right away, and after pause in which she doesn't quite seem to know what she should actually do Nill lifts a hand to wave it at Gary, expression a little awkward. Hey there, Gary.

Since he's already noticed the notepad, she reaches over and writes on it, turning it around for him to read when she's done.

how are you doing?

Hopefully his attention span won't let him take offense at her ignoring the question.

In the Suite

[hit_girl_mindy]

Mindy had taken to staying in her room most nights, even though distractions were always welcomed. She hadn't even had the guts to talk to Harley about Ellie leaving, and that would have been the first person she would have talked to. This just seemed to cut so quickly and com so fast she had no words.

So naturally, she closed herself off. In some ways, being aloof and composed helped her get through the shitty feelings that came up whenever she thought of her friend no longer here. There were duties to perform, so she did them, feeling listless, trapped. She could tell herself in her head all she wanted that she could get through this: she just didn't believe it, so long as she was still in the Capitol.

If she goes by Mindy's room she'll see that the light is on: Mindy was looking at a few of the crappy movies that were playing, snorting derisively at them, wishing for two people in particular to be laughing along with her.

[reassures]

The thing is, Nill doesn't really know Mindy. She liked her well enough. As well as she liked anyone that made comments about her being somehow less, somehow not as human. (Or that's how Nill had interpreted it at the time, anyway.) And Mindy had been acting strange since the end of the kid arena, but who hadn't? She'd only seen Mindy there for about two minutes before she took off, and then they didn't speak for most the rest of the night.

It doesn't seem like Mindy wants the company, and Nill isn't the sort to intrude, even if her door is open. She doesn't spend enough time in her suite to really check on everyone, especially if those people aren't talking much to her.

Nill comes through the place periodically through the night, but she never stays long. At some point if Mindy wanders out of her room she might find a sandwich on a plate for her, though.

B - Because clearly you wanted more clown drama

[carnagecarnival]

The curfew call sounds, and just as each evening, he's got no choice but to return to his district. Up in five, motherfuckers settles down early, to wake up ealier, which makes the starting hours the quietest. Even if that weren't the case, things with his district mates are more than a little awkward.

Only Kankri is real exception, at least for being awake. Things are certainly less awkward than they used to be, but there's always somewhere you'd rather be than your district room where you had to be quiet lest you wake someone-- something he couldn't so easily do.

When Nill show up, a grin splits across his face and his hand immediately goesup to wave her over.

hell yes I did

[reassures]

Nill could sympathize. She was only stuck in her own suite for a few days before she got her pass, but just that was enough to make her want to crawl up the wall. There are few things as unsettling as being acutely aware of the fact that you can't leave a place even if you want to. Its part of why she was so eager to do things for people in the other districts who couldn't leave. She didn't even know anyone else with a pass, unless you counted Linden, but Linden kind of just did whatever he wanted.

But lucky her, the Initiate seems more than happy for the company. Nill smiles right back at him, small and bright, and quickly heads over, this time leaving her shoes back near the elevator. She might be here awhile. There's a plastic bag around one wrist, and it slides down to her elbow when she lifts her hands to sign Hi.

A- The Rooftop

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden is one of the people who, by now, habitually comes to join Nill on the rooftop. Full pass or not, he's both ignorant of the rules and allowed to get away with more than many simply because of his status as a former Victor and Mentor, and this gives him immunity that's technically limited but ensures that his minor transgressions are more likely to be overlooked.

Since his addiction has reached levels considered to be more dangerous and destructive than any Capitol treasure can be allowed to indulge in, though, he's found it harder to get his hands on his primary vice since returning from rehab, especially in the wee hours of the morning. Conversation and cigarettes are a great way to take his mind of the painful and distracting withdrawal symptoms, and Nill has an inherent sweetness and an understanding streak that's comparable to few.

He joins her wordlessly tonight, reaching automatically for the first two cigarettes he knows she'll offer him. As usual, his hands shake, and he looks noticeably thinner than the last time she saw him.

"Long night..." he mumbles unnecessarily. Insomnia is one of the only reasons a person would be awake and agitated at an hour like this, and probably the most socially acceptable one.

[reassures]

She never seems to mind his company, at least. It's hard to tell exactly when he'll be around, and she probably wasn't up there the day before or after the kid arena, but otherwise she's usually around regardless. She's managed to find a pretty decent chunk of constellations with Linden around.

Nill looks up from her notebook when she hears him coming and offers a gentle smile. Her hair is in a braid today. Her hair almost always looks nice, and if it doesn't, then people should probably be concerned. But the routine today follows the same that most late nights on the rooftop do. At least until he has his cigarettes.

The excuse isn't necessary, but Nill nods along with it, nothing but understanding. She sets the cigarette pack a little closer to one side of the bench than usual, still within easy access of them both, and then reaches under the bench to pull out a plastic bag, which she sets between them. It has several small ziploc bags inside; two bags, a sandwich in each; one with a few sugar cookies; another with some crackers, as well as two bottles of water. The sandwiches are probably pretty bland, with anything that might upset a sensitive stomach avoided. The richest thing in there is probably the cookies.

eating something might help.

A

[crabmunicator]

Karkat has a lot of thoughts about morning right now. Most of them involve rude things it can do that a temporal concept lacks the anatomy to comply with. But with curfew ended for the night, he's found his way up to the roof anyway to see the sun rising with a look too tired to be contemptuous.

He hasn't slept, really, and the light just pushes it more strongly to mind. It's not even the longest he's gone without it, but after about two weeks of only occasional rest the effect has started to show. He's tired, very tired. And the thing is, it shouldn't be this hard. Just go to bed, sleep, and wake up rested, right? But it's been three years of showing up in dream bubbles, and eventually they found a way to alchemize sopor slime and recuperacoons, neither of which he has here. It's a lot to take all at once, especially with only a human bed to sleep on.

The only reason he's up here is because after a night stuck in his district, he wants the fresh air.

Nill's silhouette is easy to spot in the slanted, rising light. She at least seems a comfort, a good presence, or at the least a distraction. There's a headache born of lacking rest pressing at his pan as he shuffles over her way, and the circles under his eyes are more pronounced than they were before.

"Morning."

[reassures]

Nill hears the footsteps, but she doesn't look up right away, busy finishing a paragraph in the book of constellations she has propped open on one knee. It's the section for Virgo, one part that she tends to go back to a lot in the book, although it's not quite as impressive now that she knows where to find it in the sky. So far the only person that's actually joined her up here for stargazing is Linden, so when Karkat actually says something she lifts her head immediately, surprised. She'd sort of thought it was Linden again.

Saying he looked good wouldn't exactly be true, but thankfully he doesn't look bad. Not the worst kind of bad, anyway, but it seems like he's having a harder time sleeping without the slime he mentioned to her than he wanted to let on. She closes the book and sets it aside, grabbing her notepad instead. She flips it to a blank page so she can write in big lettering across it that Karkat will see without being five feet away from her.

good morning
long night?

d!

[smarterthanthem]

Clementine makes regular visits to the training center to work on practicing the skills all her tutors have taught her, by now that's quite a collection of people. At this rate, if she can retain the knowledge and train her body to the level required, ever a problem when you go back to square one on muscle memory everytime you die, Clem's shaping up to be quite the little badass.

There's more to surviving in the arena's than combat however. Knowing how to scavenge, identifying dangerous plants and animals, as well as finding shelter and safe water to drink, all that was just as important to staying alive as anything else.

So that's why today when Clementine comes into the room, dressed in loose workout gear, she looks around and smiles to see Nill at one of the non-combat related stations. She doesn't hesitate to make her way over and greet one of her newest friends. "Hi Nill, what're you doing?"

[reassures]

Nill hasn't actually gotten to talk to Clementine since her first day here, even if she saw her in the Arena, and asked Linden to keep an eye on her. So when Clementine wanders over all on her own, Nill looks over and smiles, waving her over happily.

The hand against the screen misses though, and it beeps, the sign of a poorly made match. Her wings flutter and she immediately turns her attention back to the screen, correcting the error. She has it timed for the sake of figuring out how to quickly identify the plants in a tight situation, but the machine likes to remind her of that often.

E

[pythianjudgment]

Being nocturnal in a diurnal society is a strange feeling. It's already dark outside and people are settling in for the night, but even after being here for over a year, Terezi still feels like she's pulled an all-nighter. She should be just waking up now, not getting her things in order to retire to her floor for the night.

Then again, she was never one to keep to a strict nocturnal schedule either. Taking care of a dragon egg usually meant being awake at odd hours and dodging the brutal sunlight to make sure that her charge was okay during the daylight hours. Human parents had nothing on her.

But as it stands, she's a little tired when she wanders through the common area. She flops down on a sofa to just people watch for a while. People-smell, in her case. It's interesting for all of half an hour before she finds herself more curious about the woman sitting in the corner. Terezi watches her for a while, noting that she seems absorbed in her books and writing--but not in the drink that's sitting by her. Weird.

After enough time has passed, Terezi slinks a little closer until she can slip into a nearby booth. She leans over the back, frowning at the woman and her work. "I thought human drinks were for drinking."

[reassures]

Nill jumps. Not overly so, but it's enough that the letter she was in the middle of writing instead becomes a short jagged line across the page of her notebook, and she lifts her head, only to spot Terezi peering at her from the back of the next booth over.

The glasses are a little odd. Sure, tons of people wore them, but it wasn't often that you couldn't actually see through them at all. Nill's wings flutter as she settles herself, and she reaches for the notepad near the edge of the table, writing a message that she holds up to Terezi.

are troll drinks not for drinking?

She's pretty sure she's never seen horns like Terezi's before. Not that they were all that strange looking, but after awhile it tended to seem like she kept seeing people in the same horn group, which is not the case with Terezi at all.

b) level 2 - hope this works! I can edit if need be

[burningdaylight]

Not ten minutes after three, Luke wakes, a heavy sweat clinging to his chest. He blinks hard, surging with adrenaline -- and before sense and logic sink in he feels a knife-twist of panic and grabs for something, anything at his end-table, nearly knocking his communicator over. Fingers wrap white-knuckled around a glass paperweight and his body jerks upright, his pulse quickening in his throat. And then, at last, he remembers.

The last remnants of his dream are slow to be blinked away.

It’s always the same these last few nights.

The bedroom is suddenly too stifling and he throws on a loose t-shirt before stumbling into the common room and sagging into one of the sofas, scrubbing slowly at his face. He doesn’t immediately notice Nill – not until he lifts his hands from his face and looks long at her as if she wasn’t ever meant to see him. And certainly not like this. But then he’s offering her a faint, sympathetic smile.

"...Rough night?" A stupid question, maybe, but it's something.

It's lovely!

[reassures]

So this was district two.

It's not a district that Nill frequently makes a point of visiting, if she's honest with herself. She has no idea if she actually knows anyone that lives there at the moment, and she definitely hasn't made a point of looking into it. Not since the kid arena, at least.

But tonight is a little different. The suite is relatively empty at first glance, and after knocking on the wall Nill lingers where she is, one hand against the wall, looking in. She feels close enough to sorry for herself that it doesn't seem like bad enough of an idea at three in the morning.

This was Nico's district, wasn't it? Even if he hadn't really been around, and he hadn't come back from the kid arena, she was sure of it. This was the floor he didn't come back to. Nill knows that, reasonably, she shouldn't have been attached. Not the first time or the second. But she'd still tried to keep him alive, and still watched him die. She doubts anyone on this floor even knew him. The thought is a little more than just depressing, and Nill looks far from happy when Luke finally stumbles out of his room. She starts a little, not having expected anyone to wander out, but it's obvious this guy hasn't actually noticed her. She lingers by the wall, obvious concern on her face, unsure if she should actually try to make an approach or if it would be better not to.

She doesn't need to think about it for long, though, because Luke notices her before she can decide if she should try to leave before he takes notice of her.

Nill offers him a very small smile in return, and after the briefest moment of hesitance she steps a little closer, sinking into a seat nearby. Instead of trying to get out her notepad she nods, and makes a slight gesture towards him. Rough for him too?

a)

[hashtagyolt]

Rooftops help him think, and Jason's not willing to dwell on exactly why that is. It's deep-routed, probably slightly fucked up and Freudian. If he bothered with it at all, he'd probably be forced to ponder life back in Gotham both before and after Bruce. That's not happening. It's simply not. It's definitely not. And the sun setting over the skyscrapers of the Capitol isn't going to make it happen.

He glances around, the effort of not thinking making him cast wildly for any kind of distraction. That's when he spots Nill.

"Hey," the greeting is quiet, innocuous. "What's your name, can I bum a light?"

[reassures]

If Nill spends much of her free time in the tower not going to the floors of friends or in the training center, then it's on the roof. Frankly she spends more time there than in her own suite, even if she doesn't actually smoke all of the cigarettes that she lights. Cigarettes seem to be something of a novelty in the capitol at times, ecigs a bit more popular, but almost half the reason Nill smokes is for the actual smoke itself.

She doesn't recognize Jason, but she doesn't recognize most people around here. She offers him a small, gentle smile, and passes him her lighter. She lets him light his cigarette himself (if he has one) so that she has the time to grab her notepad and quickly write on it.

my name is Nill.
what's yours?

C - let me know if I need to change anything

[aboveangrybees]

Sleep wasn't something Steve is having much of tonight. Nightmares have been plaguing him again, itching away at him until he's left emotionally raw. With the curfew in full effect, Steve can't go down to the Training Center and work out his body into exhaustion, so, he finds himself on the main room couch doodling.

He doesn't see Nill around very often, just wisps here and there as she comes and goes at all hours. It's nothing he thinks much about, figuring she's not used to being caged. He can relate to that.

Tonight, he looks up when she enters the suite, giving a nod in greeting when he catches her eye. "You're up late."

it's fine!

[reassures]

Likewise, it's not often that Nill sees much of Steve. While she has a good enough opinion of him, their schedules clash too much with how hers is changed by the lack of a curfew; when she comes back to the suite in the morning to go to sleep, he's probably getting ready to leave. And so it's gone up until this point.

Late hours are good friends to Nill, but it's a little surprising when she arrives on her floor again and someone is actually awake. She pauses, momentarily surprised, before she offers Steve a small smile.

...Ah. She should probably talk to him, actually. Instead of ging to her room, or the kitchen, or anywhere else, Nill heads into the common room and takes a seat not far away from where Steve is, close enough that he should be able to read her writing. After a moment she holds up her notepad.

I met someone that knew you.

F

[crabmunicator]

There's a number of things Karkat is feeling in the wake of Lonestar--Brainiac--whoever's execution, but the one above the rest is rattled. It was a statement they made in airing that whole thing, in making them watch. Do not resist, you will be caught, you will be culled. You will be made an example of. And it's not the gore itself, not the base act of someone dying, but the whole of it. To present it on something like an entertainment program, too--it puts everything too neatly. The Tributes are only there for their entertainment, and they must comply.

To cap it off, they have an arena to look forward to. And of course there would be; that's what they're here for. Talking about it, hinting about it--that means it has to be soon, though, doesn't it? The timing feels like a punishment all its own, one more reminder of their use. So long as that presses on his mind he can't relax.

But he's going to need to be rested, he knows. For all he can go a long while without, and he's certain he won't trust himself to rest in the arena, that's no reason to weaken himself beforehand. And so, not all too long after the broadcast, he hauls himself up to district 9. Sooner or later she'll have to be there--

And indeed, he spots her in short order with her wreath of smoke. He might not know her in depth just yet, but he's never seen her smoke indoors. His approach is slow, concern filtering into his eyes. Of course he can't be the only one this affected.

"Nill?"

[reassures]

It hasn't been long since the announcement. It's still morning, and many of the other tributes have filtered off of the district floor, or have made a point of not leaving their rooms at all. Nill doesn't blame them. If she didn't feel the need to keep herself busy, she might be doing the same.

She's considered drinking with the kind of single-mindedness that only people who used to drink a fair amount do, but ultimately turned the idea down, because she's fairly sure there won't be enough time to sober up after, or to recover from the dehydration that alcohol causes. Going into an environment where they might not have water, this seems like a very bad idea. So she's settled for smoking, and she's on her second cigarette in the past twenty minutes when she hears the elevator ding. It doesn't occur to her that it might be someone to see her.

It's not until he speaks up that she even actually lifts her head to look his way, and when she does it takes a few seconds longer than it usually does for a smile to make it's way onto her face, and even then it's very half-hearted, and he'll probably get a decent look at that ugly bruise beneath her hair. She waves him over, before tapping ash into a mug on the coffee table and turning her attention to the notepad on her knees, tucked up a little so she doesn't need to bend over to read it.

The page has details of Brainiac's death and the announcements before and after it, with a few arrows between different things. She's trying and failing to see if they gave any hints about the Arena during the execution.

F

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden saw the execution, of course. Everyone did. Even to someone who had lived in Panem his entire life, with the Games and the Peacekeepers and a government that demanded too much of its beleaguered citizens, found the brutality of it wholly overwhelming. The Games, at least, gave the Tributes a fighting chance, but the execution... there was only one direction to go, and it was a dark one, with no return.

The answer had been Morphling, and a lot of it. He'd been reckless with his dosage, and chased it with an entire day's worth of calories in hard liquor. He'd passed out shortly after, woken on the tile with his own bruises, taken a shower, and then started the process all over again. This morning, he is a haggard ghoul of a man, drifting up to the roof before sunrise. If no one is there, he thinks that it's a good time to dangle his feet over the edge, maybe hold onto the rail with just one hand, look down, and imagine that he's frozen in flight. Away from the Capitol, away from everything that keeps him locked and shackled as a former Victor. With no one to shout and startle him, or tackle him away from the edge, it could be relaxing, even transcendent. His heart is pounding as he counts the last steps and pushes open the door, tripping slightly on the threshold with feet too numb for stealth or deftness.

The back of Nill's head makes his stomach plummet, not like flight, like falling. He is either disappointed or relieved; they are difficult feelings for him to tell apart these days. Deciding on the latter, since he has come all this way, he weaves his way over to Nill and promptly loses his footing. He staggers and falls, but he is on his feet again in a second, sitting beside her and resting his forehead against the heels of his hands.

[reassures]

The execution was so early in the morning that Nill hadn't actually had the time to go get some sleep before it happened, and it shows in almost every subtle way possible. Anyone that didn't know her would probably think she looked just fine - the clothes were clean, her hair was washed. But she's done nothing with her hair outside of pulling it up into a messy bun, which better shows off the scars on her back, the one at the top of her spine, and the stretch of skin where her wings connect to the rest of her. They keep giving her things with open backs instead of stuff she can slip over the wings. There's no makeup left to cover the bruise on her forehead, and nothing to cover the bags under her eyes. She never went to bed. How could she?

Nill has no shoes, because it might be the last time for a long while that she doesn't need to have them on, and unlike usual there isn't a book of stars in her lap. Just an ashtray off to the side that must have at least six cigarette butts in it, and her pack is more than half empty.

It's not unusual for Linden to join her anymore. It's near routine, save for the nights where he prefers the more potent buzz of Morphling to the slightly pleasant sensation of nicotine. What is not usual, however, is him tripping that much. Stumbling, sure, but not to that extent. He's up again and moving to sit beside her before she has the time to get up and help him. When he sits she extends a hand towards him, hovering over his shoulder while she leans a little closer, as if it will prompt him to say something. It probably won't, but she looks so worried about him. It's the first time she's seen him this bad.