It's not too bad. The dimly illuminated walkway leading to the gardens aren't exactly a problem for a man whose species is largely nocturnal. After that ganderbulb-searing color drawing a headache-inducing line to who knows where, the dark is a welcome reprieve for an aching thinkpan. Karkat meandered this way out of idle curiosity, mainly, and because there's an appeal to the darker, more closed in spaces, a comfortable familiarity of the sound of metal beneath his well worn sneaker treads.

Maybe it's one of the other volunteers who has trouble navigating the walkway only to find a firm hand steadying them before they fall, a hard and terse voice warning from the dark: "Hey. Get your strut pods untangled before you fall, dumbass."

Whoever this guy is, his manners could use some work!

This sleeping arrangement sure is weird! It's just cushioned plane after cushioned plane of mattresses lining up and down the room, some of them already occupied with weary volunteers. There's one who hunkers down with his blanket draped over him like a big shawl, hooding his eyes. He stands out among the humans, because he both looks enough like them and doesn't with his gray skin and his yellow sclera, the sharp teeth jutting out in a slight, yet visible overbite.

Besides the occasional suspicious case of side-eye thrown at others who happen to get into his personal space, the gray-skinned stranger is pretty interested in this movie. In fact, one could argue that his interest shifts from merely passing to avid once it becomes apparent that this is a story about the burgeoning love between creatures from very different walks of life. Is there exploded kernels/popcorn? Because by the end of it, Karkat is throwing a fistful of the stuff into the air ahead of him. And probably onto other people watching the movie.

"What? WHAT?! ELISA DESERVED BETTER THAN TO GET WRITTEN OFF LIKE THAT, YOU HALF-PANNED HACK!" Wow, someone sure feels passionately about this! He turns to the person nearest, his fingers clenching and unclenching at the air as he continues, "I mean, ok. I can understand that in the absence of an auspistice, that prejudiced nookwhiffer Strickland was pretty much doomed to have his black obsession backfire spectacularly. And by the way, that revenge arc was shorter than a limbless, fangless grub's life expectancy! But we're just going to put Elisa on the omniscuttlecoach like that? What about Giles?! He OBVIOUSLY harbored unrequited feelings of pity for Elisa, did you see how her appeal touched him?" You get it, don't you?!

If someone is having trouble settling down to sleep, it really is no surprise. Between the technical difficulties, the alien surroundings, the aliens, the pressure of finding a cure for what ails one's home, or the people you've left behind to come here, there's a lot to keep one awake. But the late hour finally arrives when most sounds have settled into the even breathing of sleep, the occasional slip of blankets as someone turns on their mattress, or... probably other sounds if someone is trying to discreetly get it on... this isn't about them.

This is about the rough, bellowing screech that rips through the silence. A yell that is followed by other yelps of surprise as others are startled from their sleep. Someone has stood up, only to trip over someone's legs and fall over another person, waking them during the mad dash to right himself. A pillow is thrown. Then what looks like a person. The commotion grows, as the one at the center of it all backs himself quite literally into a corner, a rattling, chittering snarl in his throat, sharp teeth bared.

Come on, it's much too late for this nonsense! People are trying to sleep!

Hit me up if you want a different prompt!