Realistic or Modern - - 𝓼𝓵𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 ☄ [ IC ]

[Queen.]

The two things that could be said about this cabin was that it was remarkably larger looking inside, and far warmer than expected. The heat radiated at an improper level for its competing outdoor air, the dancing flames of the fireplace easily as disobliging. Although tomorrow on doctor Sparks and doctor Gunn would be joining the group at two o'clock daily like clockwork, today was greeting day. It only made sense for them to be here welcoming their willing patients, easing them into the experience they enrolled themselves in.

Gunn pulled at the neckline of her blouse, neck craning. "You turned the heat off?" She questioned with a seed of irritation. Sparks sighed briskly, not offering a glance as he responded with a confirming nod. Impatience seemed to be a shared weakness between the differing professionals.

Everyone would be arriving together in the promised black Suburban, their chaufer a man by the name of Gregory Demark. His relevance was meager at best, seeing as he'd never enter scene again after relinquishing the vehicle. After precisely seven minutes past ten a.m., the unmistakable babbel of tires straining over gravel could be heard from inside. Sparks straightened in his chair, adjusting the tv static color overcoat he wore while Gunn brushed her hair over the right shoulder. Finnigan glanced at her sideways, uncertain about her habitual adjustment over her looks. They'd never worked together before. Time would tell if this were a worthy match like Mason had affirmed.

Gregory Denmark had been instructed to give out three keys to the participants. They were already intrigued to see who had claimed them first.

The lock by the front door rattled with noise, wiggling twice as though they weren't quite sure how to open it. Two pairs of eyes would be watching them when they turned corner into the dip of the living room. The first one in was a woman with onyx bangs and seafoam green eyes. Ms. Wixx, it seemed. Sparks gestured to one of the three couches available in a u-shape before them, expecting her to abandon her luggage to unpack at a later time. Gracie beamed, enthusiasm bubbling from her very bones. She was the only one of the two who stood upon sight of the guests. "Welcome everyone. Please have a seat so that we can discuss a few things before you pick your rooms." She requested, shooting Finnigan an unsure glance as he cleared his throat and shifted where he sat. She resolved it was better to sit and appear to be in unison.

Euphrasia fumbled with the string of her luggage where a tag marked it 'baggage claim' before seating herself in the conveniently farthest seat from the two psychologists. "Good to meet you guys, finally. I'm Euphrasia. I don't know if you've got a file with a picture or something but... Yeah, good to meet you." She breathed hastily, likely waiting for someone else to overpower the conversation so that she could fade to the background.

The introductions had to be quick. There was much to be done.

day one

- - the cabin

coded by weldherwings.

 

[kikuQ]

silas oliviera
☾​

Golden and red, birch and maple. Quiet streets- they could even be called paths, unpaved and unused- framed on either side by unkempt branches, stretching their fingers into the way as if to swallow the black Suburban. Down the slope of the treeline, a glassy lake sparkled- even and still despite the gentle winds; a huge bowl of silver liquid, the chalice of an unseen power.

Shifty eyes refused to part from the portrait-like scenery. They were captivating, yes, but this man's gaze would rather lose itself in the wilds of the Six Blossom Basin than risk for a second meeting the other half-dozen gazes within the Suburban. His neck was stiff, enduring hour after hour bent at a ninety-degree angle. His knuckles were white, hands strangling the handles of a case perched atop his lap. Glass bottles quietly chattered within over hills and bumps. Apart from these tiny, hardly-noticeable details, the man in the passenger seat was seemingly unbothered, perhaps bored. He wasn't one to fidget, his posture was relaxed- perhaps his fixation on the outdoors was a matter of the basin's enchanting looks. Beneath the surface, however, Silas was a cat thrust out of its territory and into the wider, threatening world, caged by slick doors and black chassis.

The approaching form of the cabin simultaneously soothed fraying nerves and set them again on fire. He'd be allowed his space once again, parted from the shared breath of the Suburban. He might even have time to unpack into his own room. But this place was also the extraction office that would tear him from his old ways, pulling infection and disease from his lifestyle like damaged teeth.

Silas was the second in, trotting behind the woman that he noted as Euphrasia. He'd noticed that she'd taken a key and followed behind, seeing as his arms were full: he carried a case of wine under one arm, and a thickly stuffed duffel bag in the other. A rolling luggage bag chased his heels, threatening to scuff a fresh pair of white sneakers. Above it, he wore grey sweatpants and a green hoodie. He was dressed as if he had just arrived to an adult slumber-party.

He smiled brightly to the room as he entered, a quick and brief exchange, a silent 'hello' to his fellow insomniacs and the two doctors that would be treating them. The case of wine was set on a coffee table in front of the three couches- it would seem he'd intended it to be a gift, a shared experience for everyone. But he did not address it as such- he placed it down, flashed another smile, and took a seat on another of the couches. Whether others decided to touch it would be up to them, it seemed. Silas had not been doing much gift-giving as of late, and it showed. His hands came to a rest in the pockets of his sweatshirt, accenting his presence with a relaxed and warm aura.

The time to introduce himself arrived, and Silas continued to beam. "My name is Silas Oliviera. Our shared experience is one I look forward to." His tone and inflection were plain, despite the strange phrasing. He spoke to no one in particular- his gaze was focused on the general room, rather than either of the doctors or even Euphrasia.

 

[NoQuillToLive]

Snapped right outta some realtors brochure, an idyllic getaway for all your countryside needs and more. The feeling wasn't mutual for Isabella personally, scraping one nail underneath the flicker of sunlight, admiring the glitzy patterns and swirls, traced with a lighter pallet of pink. The rest of her was the same somewhat— a suffocating pallet of pastels and brightened visuals one might think she was trying to contend with the sun above, but alas, what the young barista liked. Fluffing up her hair, she shifted towards the window, angling the phone from her other hand, joining together, as she puckered up her pallid lips.

"As you know," She winked into the camera, swiping her thumb against the screen and stretching herself a little for the view— pronounced confidence that was bolstered, maintained from a little flutter of her fake eyelashes, darkened, but was no denying that Isa was on her game; even now, maintaining a picture of glitzy cute was what she was aiming for. "Super exclusive relaxation resort, yes, you heard me. Exclusive invited me along, I am so nervous!" She threw her head up, a little out of angle with the phone's camera, the importance of being animated is what attracted views and she was all about every digit that was a glance to her story. She wasn't sharing that attention with anyone else, eyes firmly fixated on her own thing and she knew she was being obnoxious.

"I'll keep you little Bs up to date, your mega B is signing off," She saluted, sliding one finger up against her temple, a little sparkle in her eye. She swooshed her other hand against the screen, automatically uploaded, fumbling her phone into her hands with a drawn-out sigh. She settled back into her seat, head, rolling against the window yet again, hearing the gravel, tires, halting as her eyes perked up. Hello, Cabin in the woods— she was the third one to exit, swinging pink pumps against the little stones and tapped her away to her slew of suitcases, she brought around five with her. She just didn't know what to take or how raiding every space of her wardrobe and made sure to grab everything she ever liked in her lifetime. This resulted in around five, two carry-ons and three, waiting to be wheeled by the major B herself. She slid her fingers through the tags, gripping the handle tightly and yanked them down, she groaned, regretting somewhat now she had been so overzealous in packing.

She threw one of the bags down on top of the suitcase, tilting that on the wheels, a balancing act, then, she thought with a low ignition of annoyance. She thurled the other bag over her shoulder, grabbing another suitcase, okay, she had four— that was enough for now, as quickly made her way inside, a patter of delicate heels, manic tapping. Leaving behind a smaller red bag filled just her shoes, a loose strap, as she struggled into the lounge. "Yeah, this can wait, I got a lot of expensive items-" Three seconds in and Isa was already declaring herself as the important one, ignoring all introductions and even psychologists, swishing her hair to the side, looking out for the rooms. "All offence intended." She sweetly smiled.

Isabella B

code by yousmelldead

 

[triples]

NICOLAI LANDER

mood: wary | location: cabin | interactions: general crowd | outfit: xxx

It was a long ride to their destination, and he wasn't talking about distance. The crew kept their silence like gold, including Nico himself, bringing the temperature in the car down to a figurative negative. Well, that is, except that one blonde girl, who seemed to be recording her journey — probably sharing it, too. Her sporadic bubbly ramblings didn't lift the mood at all, unfortunately; in fact, it might have made the atmosphere even more awkward, though he suspected she didn't particularly care. She was quite an amusing character, he thought, but the type that could get old fast. At least, for him personally.

Anyway, the point was that getting out of the vehicle was a relief for more reasons than just the sheer beauty of their current location. Nico let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as his gaze flitted across the scenery, taking it all in. He wasn't a poet by any means but the lines of towering, viridescent trees and crystal-color lake that stared back at him constructed a sight that could make anyone feel poetic. Construct — how odd that the display of nature's might before him would bring to mind such a word. Something about it all felt so... deliberate. Nico brushed the unsettling thought out his head as he turned to the final piece of the puzzle: the cabin.

It was as picturesque as its surroundings; a pretty, cozy-looking cabin sitting in the embrace of the forest. But Nico could pull up no good feelings about it. All he felt was a weight sinking from his throat slowly down to his stomach, choking him slowly. He felt suddenly nauseous. If he'd known their location would be somewhere like this he wouldn't have signed up for the group at all. Before arriving, he had tried his best to hypnotize himself into not caring, telling himself it was stupid to associate all cabins with the horrors of his past. Clearly, he was a bad hypnotist.

He bit down on his bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. Pull yourself together, man. This was going to help. Being a cabin of all places while he healed was going to be better for him, help him make new, positive associations with these sort of places. He was going to be just fine. With that, Nico finally started moving. He'd been the fourth after Instagram to get off the car, but his hesitation had made him fifth to reach the steps of the cabin instead. The man — Dreads — who had overtook him had also beat him to offering the struggling girl help with her luggage. His gaze lingered on them for the second it took him to affirm that two people were enough to carry all the bags before moving on.

As he passed them, he spotted the two keys up on offer. There were definitely more than two people left that had yet to take those... he glanced back at the remaining crowd. Well, he supposed, it shouldn't matter who among us takes the keys first, anyway. It was also looking like there were people who didn't even have free hands to grab the key. As someone who did, he might as well. With that thought, he picked up one silver key as he walked through the door to face, hopefully, his healing journey.

The interior of the cabin was more spacious than he thought, luckily. It looked like there would be just enough room for personal space. There were two other people waiting inside with the ones who'd went in first, whom Nico naturally assumed were the therapists in charge. The man sat still in his seat, observing them. He looked like what his mom would call attractive men her own age. Fox, Nico silently named the man. Silver didn't seem to suit him that well. The woman, on the other hand, was younger and definitely came off nicer. She gave off a teacher vibe, somehow. Maybe that would be his nickname for her. He'd decide later.

Other than him, Hoodie and Witch had also settled in. Nico entered just to catch the tail end of the man's weirdly formal introduction. Nico spied the wine on the table as he quietly put down his bags where everyone else seemed to have placed theirs, before joining the quickly expanding group with his own greetings.

"Nicolai Lander," he spoke with a slight smile as he faced the duo of therapists, "but you can just call me Nico. Nice to meet you all. I'm looking forward to this." He wasn't. You're supposed to be honest with your therapists, man, the voice in his head drawled, sounding disapproving. If he were younger, his smile might have froze at the thought, but the current Nico continued with a pleasant facade — story of his life, really.

 

[weldherwings]

Arlo Roe

mood | im just... exhausted.

outfit | click here (minus the lock earrings)

location | cabin

mention/interactions | general crowd

Arlo Roe was tired.

No, he wasn’t just tired from the extreme lack of sleep or the long hours at the hospital. It was more of a mental tired. An emotional tired. Just a… tired tired feeling. It started from the very moment the sun rose. With each passing second of the day, it felt like a little piece of him was being drained. Slowly but surely. The draining started from when he was in high school, stressing over his exams and to ensure he would get all the top marks. And it continued all the way through university. Now, having just finishing his internship and moving into a residential position at the hospital, he felt like there was nothing else left to drain. He had been completely drained empty.

One would think that the only way to stop this draining was to refuel oneself, right? To go on a holiday or to take up a hobby of sorts. For Arlo, he wanted to sleep. He just wanted to be able to lie down for a good solid eight hours and have some uninterrupted sleep. But no matter how hard he tried, there were demons looming in the back of his mind. They waited until the night sky enveloped the daylight to slither their way into his mind. And all they ever did was bring horror and nightmares to his mind. Reminding him of everything he had ever done wrong as a child and how no matter what he did as an adult, it would never change the fact that he had screwed up.

So when he underwent his mental and physical health check-up for work, the doctor who had been assigned to him decided to speak to the big guns at the hospital. They decided that they would help him out and send him away on this little retreat, claim it on work expenses as they seemed to think that his insomnia was caused by the hectic life of a doctor. And then, when Arlo came back to report to them, they would see what tactics the doctors were doing here – all so they could try and incorporate it into their own studies and practices in the hospital. It was risky, but if it meant he was going to be able to sleep and get some help for free, he was willing to do it.

He had hoped for a peaceful car ride. One where they could remain silent and take in the scenery around them. That was far from what happened. Arlo had the great honour of sitting behind a girl who seemed to be documenting the whole experience. That was something he didn’t want to be involved in. He didn’t want people knowing about his mental health journey. Mainly because he told his parents that he was here on a work trip. They didn’t need to know that their son was suffering from insomnia and here for treatment. So, in an attempt to cover his identity, Arlo brought the hood of his jumper over his head and kept his gaze down. Yeah, like that would really help.

That’s when the dissociation began to take place.

One moment he was sitting in the car, and the next he was finding himself sitting next to complete strangers that he had only just given a brief head nod towards in the vehicle along with two new people before them. Obviously they were the… doctors? Dissociation was never fun. Sometimes it was frightening as hell and drained him as much as the lack of sleep. The best way he could describe it was like… an out-of-body experience. His body would move but he felt like he had no control of it or his mind was blanking out. Sometimes he could pick up on the dissociation. But there were times – like today – where he was far too excused and it felt like a chunk of his memory was now forever missing.

Arlo heard one of the car strangers saying their name and what sounded like an introduction. Wait. Were they introducing themselves? Confusion struck his face, no matter how hard he tried to wipe it off and his brows furrowed. And then the anxiety decided to take a big old turd in the pit of his stomach as he gazed up to see the eyes of the doctors upon him. Oh, wait. Were they waiting to hear an introduction of sorts from him? Swallowing thickly as he fidgeted with the hems of his jumper, bringing them to cover his palms, he almost had to take a hot minute to remember who he was and what he was doing there.

Finally, he spoke. “Arlo.” he simply said. Anxiety must’ve had diarrhoea today, cause he could feel it continue to shit in his stomach. Normally he was fine with people looking at him and waiting to hear him speak. But after coming out of a dissociated state, he could feel himself getting even more flustered by the second. The skin of his cheeks began to illuminate a soft red undertone as he tried to calm his nerves and waited for the next person to speak.

coded by weldherwings.

 

[Senor_Fluffy]

[ Raimy Thomas. ]

Mentions. NoQuillToLive
Interactions. General Crowd.
mood. Apprehensive.
location. Living room.
outfit. Casual Streetwear

When he got the email talking about this insomnia getaway, he didn't think that he'd actually end up going. But he applied anyways. Now, sitting in a SUV with a bunch of strangers in silence for hours. He wondered why in the world he decided to sign up. He was assured that it would be a good experience by his life coach but this felt more like nails on a chalkboard than anything. Everyone but the driver was sleep deprived and either socially unaware or awkward at best. He could feel the anxiety in the air, with the cherry on top being this blondie who somehow decided it would be a good idea to record her experience. Never mind the privacy of anyone who might be caught in the background of her broadcast or whatever it was.

Keeping his eyes on the rolling scenery outside, he imagined he was out in the fresh air rather than stuck across from a woman who flip flopped from bubbly on camera to bored and indifferent. Stealing occasional glances at those around him through the reflection in the window. The warmth of the sunlight mixed with the cold air against his ear somehow made for just the right amount of physical comfort to make him occasionally close his eyes and doze off. Only to wake up an indiscernible length of time later with a slight start. No matter how hard he tried to focus on keeping his eyes open as he was in the company of complete strangers, he barely managed.

Then they finally arrived, he pulled himself to sit up right and massaged at the crook in his neck as he waited for everyone to get out. Grabbing his one large duffel bag and hoisting it over his shoulder he looked to see if everyone else was sorted out alright with their things. Everyone seemed fine, though seemed the Pink Princess had packed a little more than she could handle on her own. Exchanging a look with a particularly anxious Nico, he offered a warm smile and shrugged before picking up the smaller red bag Isabella left behind. Of all the others Nico seemed to be the most uncomfortable there. He couldn't quite tell for sure but there was a certain dread in his face. Lord he hoped it wouldn't be this tense and weird this entire time. He might just loose his mind.

Ray made his way into the cabin and though he only made it through the door just before Nico, he waited for a particularly tired Arlo to make it through the door. He didn't know if he was just seeing things but Arlo seemed particularly empty. A part of him a bit concerned as to how long the poor guy had been up thus far. Not that he was really one to fuss. It had been 28 hours now, if he was doing the math right, since he got about 4 hours of sleep. Closing the door behind them and allowing himself a moment of awe. The cabin was stunning. This was something out of a commercial. Unreal and... Uncomfortably warm. Was that one of the tactics they'd use? Just make them drowsy with heat?

He carefully placed the red bag aside on one of the tables behind the couches. Trying to make eye contact with Isabella to motion to her that he put her bag there. Not wanting to risk any rage from mishandling precious cargo. A sharp twist in his gut from the snotty way Isabella spoke that last sentence. Ah, wonderful, complete lack of respect for everyone's time. Suppose it was time to buckle up. This would be quite the ride.

Sitting down on one of the pastel pumpkin colored couches he angled himself so that he could see everyone in his line of sight along with the front door. His bag landing with a shallow thump beside the arm of the couch. Crossing his ankle over his knee and resting his elbow on the armrest as he put the knuckle of his index to his cupids bow. Listening to everyone introduce themselves and offering a soft smile to anyone who happened to catch his gaze as they did. Eventually finding that the attention had focused on him with the expectation he'd go next. "Ah, I'm Raimy. You can call me Ray if that's easier to remember. Pleasure to meet ya'll." He gave a short wave before settling back into his friendly silence. Just watching everyone and repeating their names in his head again and again and again.

by @leviathan.​

 

[Queen.]

Euphrasia

Health

Exhaustion

Mental State

in the cabin

The car ride over to the cabin was incomprehensibly foreign. It felt like a fever dream, likely from the ongoing waves of disassociation that fogged Euphrasia's head. Her eyes would trace over the bumpy lines of the horizon as they drove, no thoughts or emotions registering properly. It was like this entire sleep study deal wasn't actually happening. It was weird and numbing. Sort of like when you're terribly zoned out though still aware of it in the back of your head, but don't really will yourself to 'zone back in'. It was only once they began to edge up on the property they'd be staying at that Euphrasia slowly came to. The crackling of rubber tires over gravel directed her back to the land of the living.

Flashing forward, they were inside this incredible place of relaxing architecture, the air holding tight to you with heat. Wixx still managed to find herself on guard, her very body language unwelcoming and defensive as she abandoned her luggage to sit before the duel psychologists. By now, Sia had makeup from the night prior. Her face was splotchy with redness, under eyes heavy with dark marks. Truthfully, the only person here who didn't look tired was the blonde kpop looking girl who had been attached at the fingertips to her phone. Euphrasia recalled being asked to refrain from use of her device, so it was a bit perplexing to see someone else using theirs so blatantly.

She greeted the two professionals in a sincere but inelegant way, falling silent in hopes that someone else would dominate the conversation. Being here was a lot more uncomfortable than she could have guessed. The interior of this place was so much more welcoming and comfortable than she thought. It was supposed to be like a sort of rehabilitation. Why did it feel so eerie?

Wixx's eyes settled upon Raimy, who gave a rather polite debut on who he was. It made her grin an inch, easing her nerves. It was reassuring to know that some of the people she'd be housed with weren't cuckoo. While she herself didn't look it, sometimes she questioned her sanity to the ends of the Earth, swearing that she was holding on by a whittling thread against bloody hands. Nico, Arlo and Silas had all offered their names in greeting. The only one lacking in that area was the same sunny-haired girl who seemed absorbed only in what room she'd be claiming for herself. Euphrasia couldn't help smirking acrimoniously at her egocentric behavior, only fussing over where her luggage would be lain. Was she really here for the same reasons as everyone else in this room? Or did she fib her way into a free vacation that would polish up her instagram?

Euphrasia's clouded seafoam eyes tore from the hallway and back toward the mental health professionals as they spoke up.

"It's good to finally meet you all face to face. We'll just begin our chat and Ms. Saeli can join us when she's finished." The man spoke, clearly aware of whatever deal was up with that other girl. "I wanted to thank you guys for dropping everything to come out here for this. We're going to do our best to be sure it was all worth your time. I know you must be exhausted. That is the whole point, right?" He grinned with charisma, glancing over to Doctor Gunn as though she was next to speak. She smirked accordingly, absent-mindedly tapping the tip of her pen. "So I just wanted to remind you guys of some basics. That way no one is confused. We're not going to be using phones or laptops. Books are welcome, and using journals to write is encouraged. Each room has a journal for each of you. At night, I'll be attaching quite painless, harmless electrodes around your forehead so we can help figure out what course of action is best to treat you all. Every day, we'll be here 2 PM to talk with you guys about what's on your mind, okay? You're free to use the Suburban to go into town to grab something to eat, or read, or anything else you might need. It is a little ways off, but the town is cute to look at." Gunn expressed, reiterating some things that some of them already knew.

Euphrasia nodded along, trying not to pass out from the sudden ripples of apprehension that were squeezing her lungs. "So before we let you guys go pick out your rooms and get comfortable, I just wanted to ask you all something. What's your goal for the end of this experience? What would you like to see come from it?" Euphrasia halted her breathing, thrown off by his question. It was entirely reasonable. Logical to ask, even. But was there an answer other than 'to learn to fucking sleep'?

She mulled it over with intense thought before speaking. "I want to find peace." Her answer was brief and truthful.

c o d e b y t r i p l e s​

 

[kikuQ]

silas oliviera
☾​

Yeah, this can wait. . . All offence intended. The girl with pink hair stood out as an entirely unique character in Silas' head, with the luggage load of a fashion model and the no-nonsense attitude to match. It seemed strange to him, his unwillingness to entertain the psychologist's words. Hadn't she signed up for this voluntarily, wasn't treatment the goal? His mind digested the thought and recalled his previous psychologist's words- Everyone has their own path to recovery. Maybe she was nervous, or scared of change. But perhaps she really was an inconsiderate airhead, uncaring and flippant. Bitter from start to end, a lemon, black coffee, surrounded by the likes of clementines and lattes.

His eyes passed over the others, each willing in their own right to offer their introductions, be it brief like Arlo, to-the-point and effective like Euphrasia, or personable and rather friendly like Nico and Ray. They each seemed defensive in their own right, but that was to be expected- they hardly knew each other. Silas made an effort to repeat their names in his head, to commit them to memory and continue to offer a polite demeanor.

His attention quickly returned to the psychologists, determined to absorb as much as they could, thirsting for information. No phones or laptops. He gnawed at his lip. He'd be unable to work. The thought of having more free time was both a blessing and a curse- he was afraid of it, and clearly. But he was obedient, and assured himself that he needed to unwind, that his current state of constant mental pressure likely was part of his inability to sleep. But his heart shook at the thought of being alone with his own thoughts- perhaps they could wander into the scar that hurt the most. No matter. No matter, no matter. He had his letters, and plenty of paper to match. His poetry, the work he desired, the work that truly wound his mind in circles of soothing words and lettering. His hand clenched slightly within his pockets, creating tiny bunches veiled by fabric.

His mind cooled quickly as he absorbed the beauty of this place- unfinished wood walls, a quietly crackling fire. Vintage chandeliers, glowing golden with the light of genuine candles. Then, a recollection of the gorgeous mirror surrounded by watercolored trees, the crystalline lake. He swam in a dream. It was so sweet and decadent, blossoming with comforting country allure. The sort of thing that he'd only dreamed or wrote of. The sort of thing he ate like child would addictive sweets.

And then he was pulled from the lake waters, forcefully and quickly enough to give him whiplash. What's your end goal for this experience, what would you like to see come from it. The words shoveled ice into his stomach. This was far too personal for his first five minutes. The bunches that rumpled his pockets grew more prominent. 'Come on, couldn't you have asked us this in private? Or at least a few days in? Or through a paper survey, work, anything.' His thoughts ran as they tended to do when someone toed the line, placed their hand upon the barrier that kept him from building relationships. Euphrasia's brief but appropriate answer sank into the room, he knew it was his turn to speak. Not only was he seated just to her left, he'd been the second to introduce himself. He smiled, far too widely, showed too much teeth. The visage of a plastic Ken doll. "I'd like to be able to sleep," he offered, sweetly, though realistically albeit slightly comical. His answer came too soon, without the careful consideration that added weight to Euphrasia's words. Dodging the question or acting clueless were his only options, from his perspective.