There are many people that a gang could set upon on a night, and even get away the victors. But even with the advantage of numbers, attacking the four tipsy people who'd been weaving down the street has turned out to be very much the wrong decision. Because the four tipsy people are in fact military trained. That they're tipsy barely impedes their reactions. It doesn't take them long to have it over with, breathing a little rushed, faces flushed with adrenaline and grins.
Percy takes his surroundings. He decides not to repeat itself with another thanks. "It looks cozy," he says not knowing what else to say.
He sits on the bed. "You are very generous person, Aaren." Smile.
Aaren smiles back. "I-" he pauses, half-gestures back to the door behind him, "we've got enough to share, so why shouldn't we when someone needs it? Sleep well, Percy."
Percy lets his face relax and soon does the same with his body. Not at easy. More like releasing puppet strings from your grasp.
He forgets his body and lets go from his senses one by one. Letting himself drag deeper into the final sense. He watches as the people in the house through it.
Slowly he drifts off into sleep.
'Chelle is awake for a while, but she too eventually sleeps, only to wake up in the small hours of the morning, to equal parts resignation and frustration.
Percy doesn't need to sleep that much and 'Chelle being awake is distracting. He gets up and looks around the corridor. Is Chelle's door open?
No, but a few seconds after he first looks around the corridor, her door inches open and she slides out-
And lets out a squeak and a jump when she spots him, clapping a hand over her mouth to try and catch the sound.
"I'm sorry," 'Chelle whispers back. "Didn't mean to wake you. Just going to make myself something to drink, want something?"
"Not that much to help with, but sure."
'Chelle pads down the stairs, clearly an expert at moving around the house silently.
When they get to the kitchen, she fills the kettle, and directs Percy to where there's mugs.
"Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?"
"Yeah," 'Chelle admits, pulling the hot chocolate out. "Had bad insomnia...most of my life? Have hard time getting to sleep, randomly wake up. Great fun... Can you grab me the milk from the fridge?"
"Yeah, it does," 'Chelle agrees, pouring water into the mugs and stirring. "Used to it now. Only accidentally fallen asleep in class once this year, and that was because the teacher was insisting on recapping something I've been able to do since I was ten..."
"Yup," 'Chelle grins brightly. Stares down into her own mug, eyes the table. "Fancy going for a walk?" she asks, lifting her mug to blow on the contents.
It's instant hot chocolate, but it's warm, and good. (And 'Chelle's enjoying it, although there's a sense that she'd prefer her Dad's homemade stuff.)
"It is," she agrees, leading the way out into the hall, slipping her feet into her boots, and pulling the door open.