[It's ass o'clock in the morning when Newt stumbles his way into the lab looking shaken and disheveled. His eyes are wide and sleepless with the beginnings of dark circles forming beneath and his face looks pale. His hair is in a state of disarray, made worse as he runs his hands through it and tugs at it. His clothes too are looking extra rumpled as though he woke up in them moments ago and came directly to the lab after rolling out of bed. One side of his shirt is untucked and hanging loose out of his pants; his sleeves are rolled up unevenly over tattooed forearms and the top two buttons on his shirt are undone, exposing a V of inked chest skin and collar bones. His tie is MIA.
Newt blinks his eyes owlishly in the light of the lab as if he wasn't expecting them to be on at this hour and he looks visibly startled when he sees Daisy sitting there at her desk. His voice sounds rough but relieved when he speaks.]
Oh, hey, Daisy. You're up pretty late... Or early.
[He smiles awkwardly, both because he's actually relieved by her company and because he knows he looks like he's half mad and is trying to act perfectly normal in these wee hours of the night/day.]
[ It's not until he speaks that she notices him there at all, looking over expectantly and then frowning slightly. Damn, Newt. ]
And it looks like I'm not the only one who's had a shitty night.
[ She reaches for the not-empty cup of coffee and then grimaces down into it, thinking better of the decision to take a sip. Instead, she turns to fully face him, giving Newt a good once-over and taking in all the signs. He's never seemed completely put-together, something always a little disheveled about him that she actually kind of likes, but this... There's something more to this. It's clear as day, which she hasn't seen in far too many hours, and it makes her want to do something about it, because as usual, it's easier to worry about everyone else instead of herself. ]
I need more coffee. And food. How about we go scrounge something up before getting back into it? [ It's too early for breakfast but surely they could find a snack somewhere. If he's not sleeping well, then he should at least eat something. ]
[His smile turns sheepish, gaze shifting away as he rubs his forehead. Subtlety has never been a Newt skill and it shows.]
I could go for a scrounge, yeah. Just gotta make a quick stop here first...
[He crosses the lab to his desk/music studio which is surrounded by various musical instruments: an upright piano, some keyboards, a guitar and even a small set of drums. It's a wonder how he got all this stuff into a military base but apparently he is dedicated to his hobbies. After a moment spent rifling through the top drawer, Newt pockets a bottle of Tylenol and a handkerchief and then he's ready to scrounge.]
So what's got you up? The bed too stiff? Unfortunately they're all like that but you get used to it after a while.
[He sniffs once like maybe he's got a bit of dust allergies. Nothing unusual to see here.]
[ Oh, Newt, it's more than obvious. She'd have to actually be blind to miss it.
Watching him move to the desk, she marvels for maybe the hundredth time at all the stuff he has crowded around it. How he gets any work done... No, she knows how he gets work done: he doesn't sleep, as evidenced by their present situation. And what else is there to do to pass the time in the Shatterdome but dive headfirst into your work?
Noting the bottle he tucks away, she leads them out, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her hoodie as they hit the hall. ]
The bed's fine. I lived in a van, remember? I can sleep anywhere. [ It's the staying asleep she has trouble with. She shrugs and glances over at him, concern still in her expression. ] I just don't sleep well.
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Newt blinks his eyes owlishly in the light of the lab as if he wasn't expecting them to be on at this hour and he looks visibly startled when he sees Daisy sitting there at her desk. His voice sounds rough but relieved when he speaks.]
Oh, hey, Daisy. You're up pretty late... Or early.
[He smiles awkwardly, both because he's actually relieved by her company and because he knows he looks like he's half mad and is trying to act perfectly normal in these wee hours of the night/day.]
no subject
And it looks like I'm not the only one who's had a shitty night.
[ She reaches for the not-empty cup of coffee and then grimaces down into it, thinking better of the decision to take a sip. Instead, she turns to fully face him, giving Newt a good once-over and taking in all the signs. He's never seemed completely put-together, something always a little disheveled about him that she actually kind of likes, but this... There's something more to this. It's clear as day, which she hasn't seen in far too many hours, and it makes her want to do something about it, because as usual, it's easier to worry about everyone else instead of herself. ]
I need more coffee. And food. How about we go scrounge something up before getting back into it? [ It's too early for breakfast but surely they could find a snack somewhere. If he's not sleeping well, then he should at least eat something. ]
no subject
[His smile turns sheepish, gaze shifting away as he rubs his forehead. Subtlety has never been a Newt skill and it shows.]
I could go for a scrounge, yeah. Just gotta make a quick stop here first...
[He crosses the lab to his desk/music studio which is surrounded by various musical instruments: an upright piano, some keyboards, a guitar and even a small set of drums. It's a wonder how he got all this stuff into a military base but apparently he is dedicated to his hobbies. After a moment spent rifling through the top drawer, Newt pockets a bottle of Tylenol and a handkerchief and then he's ready to scrounge.]
So what's got you up? The bed too stiff? Unfortunately they're all like that but you get used to it after a while.
[He sniffs once like maybe he's got a bit of dust allergies. Nothing unusual to see here.]
no subject
Watching him move to the desk, she marvels for maybe the hundredth time at all the stuff he has crowded around it. How he gets any work done... No, she knows how he gets work done: he doesn't sleep, as evidenced by their present situation. And what else is there to do to pass the time in the Shatterdome but dive headfirst into your work?
Noting the bottle he tucks away, she leads them out, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her hoodie as they hit the hall. ]
The bed's fine. I lived in a van, remember? I can sleep anywhere. [ It's the staying asleep she has trouble with. She shrugs and glances over at him, concern still in her expression. ] I just don't sleep well.