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[goodjob]

Who: Fiona Gallagher and you.
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: the Marsiva
When: 1/20

[The camera manages to catch Fiona waking up with an angry yelp before she stumbles furiously out of bed, and off screen. Something like a muffled scream can be heard, but not seen. She's gone for a fair amount of time before she returns to addresse the camera directly.]

[She looks tired, a breath away from haggard. Her voice is harsh.] I feel like my room's been downgraded. What are our coordinates? [She frowns, scratches the back of her neck.] Where are we? And... how long's it been since the fire?

[That out of the way, she relaxes and asks in a more conversational tone:] And has anybody got a smoke? I'm definitely not quitting now. [She rolls her eyes.]

Oh, and Adrien, you owe me a drink. [Muttered:] At least.

[Anyone who wants to find Fiona on the bridge of the Marsiva is welcome to do so! They can find her when she just woke up, when she went off screen to scream into a pillow, or after the message when she'll be spending her time inspecting everything, and trying to find some cigarettes.]

Comments

[goodjob]

The false alarm bit? Not literal. [Though maybe not the best choice of words, but we're just blasting right past that.] There was a fire, but it was a long time ago and nobody remembers it anymore. Don't sweat it, kid.

[brokencopy]

Well, clearly that's not true. You remember it.

[goodjob]

[Fiona massages her temples and says, in a tone of clear annoyance,] Nobody. But. Me.

[brokencopy]

Then why did you mention it? If nobody but you remembers it, what was worth noting about it?

[goodjob]

[Fiona leans in, clearly now past the point of annoyance.] Because it killed me.

[brokencopy]

[And that. That actually makes B pause. Death by fire is something uncomfortably close to him.]

I see. That would make it memorable, then.

[goodjob]

[Still livid.] Yeah. Great. Happy to clear that up.

[brokencopy]

Well, you are the one who mentioned it.