Anger sits— patiently, for once— to the side, fast asleep with his head lolling back stupidly. His face isn't furrowed or bent, and is infact perfectly smooth for a bright change.

Fatigue is nowhere to be found, with her coming and going, isn't not a suprise she isn't amist the chaos, not with the adrenaline levels running wild! Her whole demeanour is cloudy and droopy.

Sadness hovers at the edge of the room, ugly expression coating their face as they wait for a vulnerability, a slip up or even a faint mention. Like a leopard — they wait to pounce.

Humour and Love dance together drunkenly, skipping and hopping about the room in an animalistic way. Roaming without a care and brushing dangerously close to Lethargy, the twin of Fatigue and a slow, slow man.

Joy and Mania pour drinks behind a glowing bar of spirits and gins, shaking and making with expertise known only to them. The drinks themselves are heavenly, but something even more heavenly? Slamming the glass down on the table after downing the beauty.

Sense isn't in her usual garden to be called and waited upon. Hm, where to find her? Tangled in a love affair with Anxiety! Outrageous.