Daniel
The days seemed to drag on slower and slower, with Ozzy's demeanor slowly dying down as each day passed. They had been meticulously counting the days they had gone without a good night's rest and the time in between each blink of sleep was becoming more and more. They were tired. Very tired. But they refused to deal with that thing right now. Not till they got their bearings at the Cradle. The kettle going off seemed to pull them out of their trance. Their long fingers wrapped around the handle of the kettle, pulling it towards themselves. The water pooled into the awaiting mug they had found from digging through the cabinets of the kitchen. It wasn't clear who owned the mug or if it was just one of the Cradle's mugs, but they were going to use it either way. The plop of the tea bag getting pulled in and out of the blistering hot water was a somewhat soothing sound for the uncanny-looking teenager. 

They swiped the mug off the counter, ignoring the blistering hot feeling that meant the pads of their fingers. It hurt a lot, but they chose to ignore it, placing it down on the island that sat in the middle of the kitchen. Late nights at the Cradle were surprisingly quiet. They had found few people wandered the halls during witching hours. It was nice. Especially since they seemed to be able to just wander around the buildings with little interruption. The roof has been a nice place Ozzy had found that they could hang out in the little time they were here. Ozzy pulled a stool away from the wall, the legs of it screeching against the floor as they pulled it closer to the island. They sat on it, scooting closer to the island. The kettle sat not that far from the teen, allowing for an easy grab if they chose to do with their long arms. They took the sip of the tea. The Pu-reh's taste reached their tongue instantly. The earthy taste of the tea soothing them more than anything else seemed to these days.

Suddenly, they were glad that they had called their dad and harassing him into finding some Pu-erh just so they could have it sent to them. Nowhere in town seemed to carry the tea, but they hoped silently that they were just not searching hard enough to find the damn item. They sighed, leaning their elbows onto the island as they stared off. It felt as if they could pass out with everything combined. The cup was sat back down on the table, allowing them to bring their now free hands to their eyes to hopefully rub the tiredness away.
Bill
Yep!! Sorry for the delay, writing now

"It's a nice kettle you have." 

An airy, French accented voice sounds from behind Ozzy. Despite the room being empty only moments prior, their footsteps had made no noise— in fact, Uriel's melodic voice could almost be confused for background noise, what with how the wind seemed to carry it though the air. 

The figure lacks presence despite how oddly they stick out. They're pale and androgynous, with stark-white hair tied loosely in a braid. They're *Tall*, too, around six foot— an oddity for someone with such a soothing voice. 

"I brought one myself as well. It is the porcelain one, old with cherubs and flowers." The person gestures to the cabinet with their gloved hands. "I do not know if you managed to spot it." 

Uriel wants to ask why this new face is up so late— but, if they know anything about people and their minds, they're sure they'll find out soon enough. 

"My mother allowed me to bring her teapot here," Uriel continues. "It is from her family, so I cannot break it. It is a wonder it is alright, with how hectic the Cradle can get."
Daniel
Ozzy tensed at the sound of the voice their body hunching over the counter. They peered over their shoulder at the figure. The shadows of the mostly dark industrial kitchen covering most of their face. The whites of their eyes were barely visible over their shoulder. "Thanks?" The voice that left their mouth was heavily accented full of awkwardness. They moved their hand away from their eye so they could fully see the figure that had appeared. 

"I didn't hear you come in." Ozzy finally added after just staring at the figure silently for a few moments. Ozzy glanced back around the visible parts of the kitchen, not moving their head. "No, I didn't." The kitchen, at least from the part Ozzy could see without taking their vision off, the figure was mostly barren. The unexpected addition to their night venture seemed to have them on edge, keeping themselves not fully visible to the other figure in the room.

Ozzy, after a while longer of staring, turned back to staring at the cup of tea in front of them. They rubbed their eyes before standing suddenly. The stool making an ugly screeching sound as it was pushed out from beneath them. They took a few steps, grabbing a hold of the still hot kettle moving it towards them. Ozzy seemed to dig through the cabinets, silently searching for something. After a few moments, they pulled out another mug. "You can sit. You don't have to stand there all." The word was on the tip of their tongue. Ozzy looked back at the other person, suddenly staring at them. They pursed their lips and spoke again. "Like that."

They turned back to the cup, pouring the rest of the water from the kettle into the cup. Ozzy's fingers fished into the box of tea bags they had brought down to the kitchen with them. The tea bag plopped into the cup of water almost as soon as Ozzy's spider-like fingers had pulled it out of the box. They grabbed the top of the cup, ignoring the blistering hot feeling that engulfed their hand as they turned on their heel facing the figure again. The cup was placed close to them within reach of wherever they stood, with a few steps. Ozzy backed away a bit, their eyes flickering between the cup and the figure. "Pu-erh." They finally said, making a gesture at the cup a smile growing on their face. An attempt to seem friendly.
Bill
"Pu-erh?" Uriel repeats, their French accent butchering the foreign word into oblivion. Their snow-white eyebrows furrow at the realization, and they softly echo the word under their breath. *Pu-erh. Pu-erh. Pu-erh,* They chanted to themselves. 
 
Uriel's gloved hands take the teacup gingerly, long digits wrapping around the warm handle. When they take a sip, their gaunt face blossoms in surprise— a surprise that slowly gives to delight, and they offer a smile to Ozzy. 

"It tastes wonderful." Uriel says softly. They bow their head at the other. "You are very kind." 

With a soft hum to themselves, Uriel takes another sip of their tea. Their pale eyelashes flutter closed against their high cheekbones as they enjoy the contemplative silence. 

It was always nice to enjoy time with another before the rest of the world has woken up; it made time seem more valuable when it was spent at a time where everything seemed to stand still. The night sky had not yet roused itself from its slumber, and for that, Uriel was grateful. 

"You are new." Uriel tells the other. "Is that why you are awake?" 

Their questions were spoken like sentences— despite the lack of an inquisitive tone, however, a softness was there. The stranger was certain in their delivery, and it had made them all the more gentle.
Daniel
Ozzy nodded as the person repeated the name of the tea to them. "That's right." Even with their accent, they had the correct pronunciation. "It's a Chinese tea." It was an interesting tasting tea that not many people he met had enjoyed. So meeting someone who actually enjoyed made them feel a jolt of happiness. They grinned, clapping their hands together excitedly. 

"You like it?" They asked suddenly, slightly louder than they intended to. A sharp contrast to the softness of the other's voice. They seem to be enjoying it enough to take another drink. Ozzy's eyes snapped to the stranger as they began to speak. "Yes. I'm new. But I'm just avoiding sleeping till I have an idea of this place, if that makes sense." If Uriel paid attention to the other's face, they'd spot the giant eye bags that sat heavy underneath their eyes. The only part of their otherwise put together appearance that indicated Ozzy's lack of sleep. 

"I'm uh assuming you've been here for an awhile yes?" Ozzy asked, their face still overtaken by a grin. The person looked like the type of people Ozzy imagined would inhabit the Cradle. Their appearance differing from most people Ozzy had met in their life. "How do you like this place?" Ozzy asked slowly, trying to get the words right. Their English skills seemed fleeting right now, which was a bit annoying, but they would make do with what they had.
Bill
The sudden jolt of energy from Ozzy makes Uriel blink slowly at the shift in demeanor— one, two slow blinks, punctuated by a sip of their tea. *Hm,* Uriel thinks, their head tilting softly. It was an interesting development in what they knew about the other; and, if they were to be honest, it was a welcome one.

"I do like it," They respond, "Both the tea and being here. People are strange, of course, but it is... A welcome strangeness." The syllables of the last words swish around in their mouth before they're released into the air, the small hesitation adding a wistful quality to what Uriel said. "It is nice for people to be strange. It is... Pleasant to meet others who are just as weird as I am."

They offer a soft smile towards Ozzy. Uriel's eyes crinkle, but it's a forced movement— one practiced due to adhering more to social convention than a genuine movement of their face.

They place their tea down, the *Clink* Of porcelain echoing through the otherwise empty room. "It is the only place we will meet people like us," Uriel speaks with a hushed tone. "Only here are we not so strange."

Common sense says Uriel should comment on Ozzy's lack of sleep. The quirks of Uriel's powers say otherwise; the guilt of potentially wandering into Ozzy's dream makes their blood run cold, and the possibility of delaying that accursed scenario is a calming lull that grants Uriel some respite from their inner demons. "You should visit the nurse if you do not feel well," They say instead, and the shame makes their fingers numb. 

Despite that, they offer a reassuring smile towards Ozzy, this time a correctly manufactured one. "It is a hard adjustment," They admit, "But I am sure you will make some friends soon. Hopefully, I shall be one of them."

*But you will have to sleep soon, little lamb.*