Effects of Sleep Deprivation
- Irritability
- Cognitive impairment
- Memory lapses or loss
- Impaired moral judgement
- Severe yawning
- Halluciations
- Symprtoms similar to ADHD
- Impaired immune system
- Risk of diabetes Type 2
- Increased heart rate variability
- Risk of heart disease
- Decreased reaction time and accuracy
- Tremors
- Aches
Others
- Growth suppressior
- Risk of obesity
- Decreased temperature
"Oh! Uh, sorry I was just thought you'd want this weird human movie I found.."A smile tugs at her lips as she averts her eyes out of some respect.
“Hm? Oh.” Dimmel does feel somewhat uncomfortable being naked in front of a woman; at least Mal doesn’t tower over him like most salarian women do. Still, he goes for the nearest pair of pants and quickly pulls them on, face tightening when the movements are faster than his knee would like.
“What sort of movie?” he asks when he’s decent.
What's your general opinion of humans?
I don’t have any particular approval or disapproval of them. I don’t know much about politics, but I hope their expansion slows down—otherwise there will be trouble. Individual humans I’ve met tend to be somewhat arrogant or ignorant, but I’d consider that a side effect of their newness rather than something inherently human.
I admit I do like their culture—first contact with them was still recent when I was a boy, so there were introductory lessons on them in school. I like how new they are—of course I approve of cultural blending, but human entertainment doesn’t have any of the tropes or traditions that have become standard over thousands of years of contact with other species. Completely different. Watching their old television is an experience.
Hey where is- Ah fuck! *shields her eyes and tries to find her way back out of the room*
-scowls, grabbing a shirt and starting to button it- Spare me the theatrics. Even if you knew a thing about salarian anatomy, it’s only you aliens who care about nudity so much.
Dimmel is too old to have height anxieties, but when other people his size are called ‘petite’, ‘slight’, or ‘delicate’, the transitive property leaves him with lingering frustration.
Name: Nasurn Mal Bin Aeghor Landra Sodo Dimmel
Age: 28
Height: 5’8” (173 cm)
Eye Color: Green
Hair Color: None
Sexual Orientation: Homosexual
Species: Salarian
Nationality: Mal Binian
—
Positive Weaknesses: Accepting and tolerant to the point of being uncurious, cautious
Allergies: Varying reactions to narcotics and mild rash in response to dextro-protein
Fears: Being hurt
How sickly they are: A high-stress lifestyle and living on a space station has done a number on his immune system, and he tends to come down with an ailment of some sort every few months.
How often do they hurt themselves: Never purposely, and he structures his life to minimize potential risks. Still, there are times he overestimates his mobility.
Relationship Status: Single
Gawmer taps away at the ordering machine, trying to ignore the stares of some of the other customers, feeling stupid for even entering the restaurant like he is, trying to to think about what they assumed about him. Finishing up his order, Gawmer can’t resist adding a medium sized cup of tupari while he’s there.
He can only smile shyly and wave at the waiter across the counter who announces that his order is ready, and he manages to leave without feeling too embarrassed with himself.
The walk to Dimmel’s apartment doesn’t take too long, and he decides to take the elevator instead for once. By the time he arrives he’s feeling cheerful again, and decides to ring the doorbell a few extra times, trying to formulate a pattern. He waits.
It’s satisfying to finally have the apartment mostly clean. Dimmel is exhausted, and he wasn’t able to do any deep-cleaning that involved moving furniture, but at least all of his clothes are in the hamper and the instant dinner cups are gone. A relaxing afternoon with Gawmer will be well-earned.
The office gets him a bottle of wine or some sort of expensive alcohol every holiday, including his hatch-day. No matter how much he tried to tell them salarians didn’t care about individual birth dates like other races, he always ends up with a new bottle every year. He’s never sure what to do with them. Throwing them out seems rude and wasteful, but he barely drinks. Over years of gifts he’s only managed to consume half a bottle of asari wine. The drinks are put away in a corner cabinet, but he hasn’t found a place for the new one yet, leaving it out on the counter.
At first Dimmel thinks Gawmer is mashing the door key impatiently, but then he recognizes the outline of a melody and smiles. Gawmer must be in an especially good mood today.
“Hello,” he greets, opening the door to let him in. “I hope you didn’t end up carrying too much.”
[TEXT] I’m eating more takeout lately than I did when I was a teenager, but I’ll never say no to Fishdog. I can pay you back for it when you get here. I’ll see you soon, then?
[TEXT] Hehe, if you can afford to have it then why not? Should be there in 20 minitues or so.
He struggles for a moment to adjust his pants one last time after putting his shoes on. Heading out or the apartment Gawmer realizes he’s forgotten a very important thing, and hurries to open his omnitool again.
[TEXT] minets*
There.
Arriving at the restaurant Gawmer struggles to not cover his nostrils. The smell was horrible, greasy, and he regrets not asking Dimmel what he wanted to order earlier. He opens his omnitool again.
[TEXT] Think fast what did you want to order
[TEXT] Do you mind picking up a few things? I can save them for tomorrow.
Dimmel lists off a varren burger and a handful of sides, before impulsively adding a sugary fruit dessert. Anja had brought him a pastry that morning for his hatch-day, and it wasn’t until he’d eaten the sweet crepe that he’d realized that he hadn’t been snacking much lately. Dimmel didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he liked indulgences as much as anyone else.
They usually found themselves sleeping face-to-face, Dimmel tucked up under Srikit’s arms and legs tangled together. Dimmel didn’t move much once he was asleep; although Srikit was trying hard to change that, he spent much his time in bed for the purely utilitarian purpose of regaining energy. No wrapping himself in the zillion-threadcount sheets to feel the soft texture, no lazing around half-conscious for half an hour after waking, no rolling over just to enjoy a cool spot.
Srikit preferred to do all of this and more. Dimmel’s bed was top-credit quality, from the quilt to the mattress, and Srikit considered taking advantage of it to be his natural right. Besides, Dimmel had hardly slept in it for all the years he’d had it. The bed deserved to get used by somebody.
gawmer-dallanda replied to your post: /TEXT/: You have a few hours to spare? Just…
[TEXT] Great! could order and bring over fishdog for you if you’d like. Got fruit at home here that I was planning on to bring anyhow. We can take it easy if we want. Just wanted to talk with you at your place.
[TEXT] I’m eating more takeout lately than I did when I was a teenager, but I’ll never say no to Fishdog. I can pay you back for it when you get here. I’ll see you soon, then?
