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[newtralize]

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Ah. Er, hello? Oh, uhm. This is rather weird...right! T-This is Newt Scamander. Well, actually, this is a pre recorded message for Newt Scamander. I'm quite busy, so I may have missed you. Do please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Apologies.

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[periit]

[ Percival might have a few more sleepy cogs turning in his attempt to get Newt to crash into bed but he certainly didn't have enough to recognize he should move when he gets up from the chair. He beauty, he's grace, he'll knock the wind out of your damn chest.

For someone who doesn't weigh soaking wet what Newt does, it takes him a second to get some air back in his lungs and it's exacerbated by the cold seeping into him—sharp and entirely distracting. Much like the way Newt settles up against him. It gives Percival pause, halting his reshuffling of blankets.

With a few quick blinks he continues, covering them both before slowly readjusting himself in this self-imposed cramped mess. ]

There, [ Is the low murmur. ] Now you won't wake up with ink and paper stuck to your face.

[newtralize]

[Newt lets out a sleepy chuckle at that.] Ink and paper isn't that bad. I once woke up in a tree and I can't say I made the landing very well.

[Although, that wasn't entirely his fault. He was just stuck in a tree for quite awhile and might have dozed off. The troubles of being a magizoologist in the field.

He happily settles down a bit; curled up against the other. Newt somehow manages to make himself smaller than he seems, though the bed is too small for them to not end up slightly tangled together. If Newt were more awake, he'd probably be embarrassed with the intimacy of the whole ordeal. For now though, he's blissfully too sleepy to realize it.]

[periit]

[ Though he hadn't been able to be particular about his surroundings as of late, with the small bit of home life he's already had the habits are creeping back in. Percival wants to fix the bedding, the pillows, make Newt feel comfortable like he has for him here.

The warmth is starting to spread though, that pinch behind his eyes working back up to make him tired and want to rest. The way Newt curls more only adds to the safety of it; a memory of familiarity from a foxhole that soothed similar demons.

The laugh at the idea of Newt slipping in a tree (and slipping out of it, admittedly) is gentle as he gives in and rests his slight weight into the bed, finding a way to settle into their gaggle of limbs. ] I might prefer a tree over the words "henceforth to be banned" stained on my face. In reverse. For most of the day.

[ At least no one would see him fall out of the tree. A silver lining. ]

[newtralize]

I suppose it would be hard to exude an aura of authority when you've got ink on your face. I can't say that mine would say anything of that nature. Perhaps more like the mating rituals of an erumpent or the dietary restrictions of a swooping evil. [Can't really save face if you've got the particulars of magic rhino intercourse on your face. Literally.]

I wouldn't recommend falling out of a tree deep in a rainforest though. It isn't a comfortable landing at all. [He offers a sleepy smile. He has grown somewhat comfortable with Percival's company. A little awkward at first, but an awkwardness he was happy to get over if it gave the other peace of mind in any capacity.

Now he doesn't quite mind so much at all.]