Floodwaters
Inactive Member
Medbay
Sienna wordlessly nodded to Natsumi and watched her float away, still finding herself unaccustomed to how Nekos could just defy gravity the way they did. For some reason, seeing her do that unearthed a few more details of their fight in her mind's eye. She could abruptly recall bouncing off of hard surfaces, machinery, hydraulic cylinders. She remembered some hazy sensation of flying, but oddly, it seemed like her memory was of doing so both with Natsumi and Kale, which only confused her further. What did Kale have to do with any of this, she wondered?
After Natsumi had gone, she eased herself off of the bed and onto the floor. Her boots felt abnormally heavy, though she suspected that was probably due to the numbing effect of the painkiller Ayumi had given her. Testing her weight on her legs, she gradually got on her feet and started to walk for the door at a slow, steady pace, rubbing her eyes again as she left.
Wardroom
She never bothered to go back to her cabin, as her stomach was growling softly at this point, and she figured with all of the chaos of late no one would care anyway. Just as she went to enter the wardroom, smelling exotic aromas of unfamiliar foods, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the glossy, semireflective walls, and wrinkled her nose at what she saw.
She looked like absolute hell.
Her hair was dissheveled, and thin red lines crisscrossed her forehead and ears where tiny little cuts and scrapes had scabbed over. Her clothing was even more in disarray that she'd realized, and her eyes were surrounded by dark circles. She stopped just before the doorway to take a second to ruffle her hair and at least make it a uniform mess, and straighten her belt and shirt before she entered.
Clearing her throat quietly, she shuffled into the wardroom where a scant smattering of crew members were absently helping themselves to the buffet or already seated and eating silently. A disquieting silence hung over the room, and the looks on everyone's faces was comparable to those who had just attended the funerary services of an unexpected death, or witnessed a terrible accident. Hanako was seated at the end of the table, looking at each of those gathered questioningly with an expression that suggested she had just asked something of them and was awaiting an answer.
Without a word she went to the buffet and surveyed the spread. It appeared that even the ship's cooks were adversely affected by the strange happenings in this place, because most of what was laid out didn't look like it had even been cooked at all. Picking up a tray and passing by the raw-looking, pale meats, she picked up a burger and carelessly tossed it on without a plate, along with a haphazard pile of vegetables. The weight of the tray was a burden on her battered hands, but the painkillers made it at least bearable.
She then drew a glass of water and slunk into the corner booth, sitting in her usual place with her back to the wall, away from the rest of the group.
Sienna wordlessly nodded to Natsumi and watched her float away, still finding herself unaccustomed to how Nekos could just defy gravity the way they did. For some reason, seeing her do that unearthed a few more details of their fight in her mind's eye. She could abruptly recall bouncing off of hard surfaces, machinery, hydraulic cylinders. She remembered some hazy sensation of flying, but oddly, it seemed like her memory was of doing so both with Natsumi and Kale, which only confused her further. What did Kale have to do with any of this, she wondered?
After Natsumi had gone, she eased herself off of the bed and onto the floor. Her boots felt abnormally heavy, though she suspected that was probably due to the numbing effect of the painkiller Ayumi had given her. Testing her weight on her legs, she gradually got on her feet and started to walk for the door at a slow, steady pace, rubbing her eyes again as she left.
Wardroom
She never bothered to go back to her cabin, as her stomach was growling softly at this point, and she figured with all of the chaos of late no one would care anyway. Just as she went to enter the wardroom, smelling exotic aromas of unfamiliar foods, she caught a glimpse of herself in one of the glossy, semireflective walls, and wrinkled her nose at what she saw.
She looked like absolute hell.
Her hair was dissheveled, and thin red lines crisscrossed her forehead and ears where tiny little cuts and scrapes had scabbed over. Her clothing was even more in disarray that she'd realized, and her eyes were surrounded by dark circles. She stopped just before the doorway to take a second to ruffle her hair and at least make it a uniform mess, and straighten her belt and shirt before she entered.
Clearing her throat quietly, she shuffled into the wardroom where a scant smattering of crew members were absently helping themselves to the buffet or already seated and eating silently. A disquieting silence hung over the room, and the looks on everyone's faces was comparable to those who had just attended the funerary services of an unexpected death, or witnessed a terrible accident. Hanako was seated at the end of the table, looking at each of those gathered questioningly with an expression that suggested she had just asked something of them and was awaiting an answer.
Without a word she went to the buffet and surveyed the spread. It appeared that even the ship's cooks were adversely affected by the strange happenings in this place, because most of what was laid out didn't look like it had even been cooked at all. Picking up a tray and passing by the raw-looking, pale meats, she picked up a burger and carelessly tossed it on without a plate, along with a haphazard pile of vegetables. The weight of the tray was a burden on her battered hands, but the painkillers made it at least bearable.
She then drew a glass of water and slunk into the corner booth, sitting in her usual place with her back to the wall, away from the rest of the group.
