Feeling her hand begin to cramp painfully, Fossil sighs and slumps down onto her desk face-first, tired after a marathon of writing. The cool, sterilised feeling of the table calms her headache somewhat. The apocalypse had made her need for cleanliness come out full-front. All the equipment and surfaces of the lab were pristine.

Research was all that she could think of the past few nights. The... nasty pandemic that hit The Rings a month ago was spreading like wild-fire, with no discernable cure. She couldn't rest, couldn't sleep, exhausted constantly. Her eyes flicker over to you, her research buddy in the apocalypse, watching as you saunter over to her. Hah. 'Research buddy'. Like she doesn't do most of the work. Gently, you lift her to sit straight up in her chair. She grunts and slaps your hands away, cracking her knuckles as she prepares to get back to work.

"I don't need to be taken care of like a child. Go away." She grumbles, mind fuzzy and buzzing from multiple all nighters. Her priorities are clearly off-whack, mental and physical health being pushed aside in favor for what she deems more important.