hey fellas im starting a new roleplay ((one on one, closed but open to stalkers))

"there you are, you living legend. taking out 30 people, 20 of them trained in combat, at 13? i feel like i should be a lot more scared of you than i already am."
nik tucked the page under to reveal the next file.
"hazel allen, age… no. age 7. they fucking did not. 13, 11, and 7?" he was a mixture of completely shell-shocked and just plain pissed off.

nik finished off the glass in one long drink, standing to go rinse it out and dry it off. he returned to the couch, a pained look on his face.
"ruthless indeed. i don't feel like the glass is entirely necessary, unless you're a hardcore germophobe. do you think any people are still at the facility? everyone so far seems to have died, except for you."

he accepted it, taking a long drink and setting it on the coffee table before them.
"well, we're almost there."

(do you want to timeskip to when they finish reading the files and are Pretty Drunk)

(he's an honest drunk, and tends to speak in his mother tongue. i feel like this'll be hilarious. the german will be via google translate)

"we could, tess. i always thought it was a good idea. like, uhh… hintergrund herl, front girl, match gemacht … irgendwo schön."
he gestured when he talked, still folded up on the couch.

"mhmmmmm. sucks cause you could be telling someone you love them in german but it still sounds like you're cussing them out in gibberish. it is intimidating, though. some guy's- some guy's hittin on you and you pull out the german, now he's cryin."
he laughed lightly. his laugh tended to sound like a cough from the pits of hell, though, and he made a face.
"i am suddenly reminded of why i never do that."

"oh, the smile?" he easily slipped back into his reporting persona, coy smirk fitting like a glove.
"the smile's great, it keeps me happy most of the time, but it gets weird. have you ever tried to be happy when you can't? like, when i see the watch, i have a hard time because they suck. but around you it's easy, cause i like you."
he uncrossed his legs, adopting a looser, more relaxed look.

"i'm glad! and, there's no such thing as too much trouble, mein liebling. not in our situations. did i tell you why i hate the watch? prolly not, cause its morbid and there's no funny parts, but it's why i laugh weird!"
he pulled up his shirt, revealing a slim torso, but the main decoration was a smattering of sunken, scarred dips across his chest and belly.
"i was documenting a story, and a guy-a guy got too trigger happy. even though i was already half dead, he decided to take me to the fuckin' pound anyway."
nik dropped his shirt, holding out his wrists.
"dragged me by my cuffed hands for a mile! hurt like a bitch. i only just managed to get away."

(he is one talkative boi)

"it's alright, and yea!" he accepted the embrace, tossing an arm around her waist. "the fucked-up tend to attract each other… and i forgot to mention! you know why i like you? cause you don't ask stuff. like… my tics. the wrist rubbin. you don't get weird about it, and you're super badass. and your hair is great, but that's slightly unrelated."
he took a deep breath, and when one is that close you could hear the roughness of his repaired lungs.
"thank you for this. going over these with me."

he began to hum almost inaudibly.
"yeah, courtesy's the word."
nik was lucky he was drunk, to say the least. nobody had touched him in a genuinely cuddly way for a very long time.
"you know, courtesy in german is höflichkeit. it's wack."

"you can sleep here, i'll grab a pillow and blanket for you on my way out." he went to get up, but she was still clinging to him and he wasn't quite sure what to do about that.

"alright." he sat fully back down, leaning on the back of the couch and letting her use him as a pillow. he began to murmur some song out of habit, a popular french song that his mother and sister had loved.

he drifted off soon after.

(who do you think wakes up first)

(fair enough. nik sleeps light anyway)

nik woke up
a. sitting up
b. with the district's most renowned badass asleep on his shoulder.
so you can imagine the slightest bit of panic, paired with a pounding headache and an empty bottle laying on the table in front of them was not an overall pleasant experience.

he definitely didn't mind the tess part, though, and this headache wasn't bringing him anywhere anytime soon. he was perfectly content to stay like they were, but his back hurt like a motherfucker and tessa looked like she'd passed on.

nik looked at her for a moment, trying to decipher if she was a light sleeper, before just deciding to go for it.
he gently pushed her off of him and stood, popping his back.
maybe i should put her somewhere more comfortable?
all of his senses were screaming for him to just walk out of the door and disappear into the city, but he sternly reminded himself that this was not one of those times.

when he had figured some sort of solution out, he retrieved a pillow and lighter blanket from her bedroom and set her up laying on the couch.
should i like… make food? she looks dead, i bet she'd appreciate it, but cooking in her bomb ass kitchen is a whole different story.