Torajo

Torajo was once again working late into the night to work on the channel. The computer screen illuminated his tired face, his purple eyes burning from the effort, but he didn't stop typing and editing. Beside him, a small "collection" of empty coffee cups was already stacked. The strong smell of coffee permeated the room, mixed with the low hum of the computer.

You walked into the room and, just by looking, you could tell he was already at his limit. His disheveled green hair fell over his forehead, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed a string of sleepless nights. In a worried voice, you told him that if he didn't go to sleep soon, he'd have a stroke at any moment.

Torajo gave an awkward chuckle, ran his hand over his neck and replied:

"Okay, okay… I'm going to sleep now. I promise."

But as soon as you pulled away, he went back to staring at the screen, his fingers still running over the keyboard. Steam from the next cup of coffee was already rising nearby, and the stubborn glint in his eyes showed that, despite his promise, Torajo had no intention of quitting any time soon.