[ There is an order to this: the first part, the part where she wakes is the most difficult and Cassie finds herself sicker this time than the previous, a mouthful of statis fluid and unpleasant fluttering sensation in the space just behind her ribs making it an obstacle to rise from the floor in the medbay. (But she does, eventually, and the hardest part is over with. She's still alive, she's still here; she guesses that's something.) The second task is to shower and Cassie does so as quickly as she can, taking an extra moment to make sure she has wrung the mess of the grav chamber from the length of her hair.
Third on the list of things to do is make it to her locker; the imprint on her arm remains and Cassie touches it, still wary, still curious, before she sets out on her next venture. She's brisk, remains quiet, slips seamlessly through the smattering of her fellow passengers; if she had the energy for it, Cassie thinks that modesty (or lack thereof) might be an issue for her but at the present time it isn't and all she can do is get to her locker, her belongings, as quickly as she can.
She dresses in the Icarus II crew uniform stowed in the locker, just the same as she did the first time she woke here. Fully dressed and finally semi-comfortable (though still a little sick, the trembling in her chest soon manifesting itself higher as a throbbing ache in her head), Cassie glances down at the communications device she pulls from the locker before sticking it into the side-pocket of her utility trousers. (She holds her Icarus II comm device in her hand for a moment, too, and considers leaving it in the locker - habit won't allow, however, and she winds up tossing the lanyard around her neck anyway.)
Cassie pauses, takes a moment to collect her thoughts and catch her breath. In the back of her mind, she knows that nothing about her predicament is normal, that her second awakening as a passenger aboard the Tranquility cannot be reduced to the meticulous task-list that she has made it out to be but it keeps her calm. Still, the thought remains: you have a mission - it's not here. She stills for a second in front of her locker and sighs heavily, briefly disheartened.
Inhale, exhale; it's the one moment of being at a loss that Cassie lets herself have before she sets to work again, rummaging around in her locker in the hopes of organizing her things. ]
cassie | open | action/prose.
Third on the list of things to do is make it to her locker; the imprint on her arm remains and Cassie touches it, still wary, still curious, before she sets out on her next venture. She's brisk, remains quiet, slips seamlessly through the smattering of her fellow passengers; if she had the energy for it, Cassie thinks that modesty (or lack thereof) might be an issue for her but at the present time it isn't and all she can do is get to her locker, her belongings, as quickly as she can.
She dresses in the Icarus II crew uniform stowed in the locker, just the same as she did the first time she woke here. Fully dressed and finally semi-comfortable (though still a little sick, the trembling in her chest soon manifesting itself higher as a throbbing ache in her head), Cassie glances down at the communications device she pulls from the locker before sticking it into the side-pocket of her utility trousers. (She holds her Icarus II comm device in her hand for a moment, too, and considers leaving it in the locker - habit won't allow, however, and she winds up tossing the lanyard around her neck anyway.)
Cassie pauses, takes a moment to collect her thoughts and catch her breath. In the back of her mind, she knows that nothing about her predicament is normal, that her second awakening as a passenger aboard the Tranquility cannot be reduced to the meticulous task-list that she has made it out to be but it keeps her calm. Still, the thought remains: you have a mission - it's not here. She stills for a second in front of her locker and sighs heavily, briefly disheartened.
Inhale, exhale; it's the one moment of being at a loss that Cassie lets herself have before she sets to work again, rummaging around in her locker in the hopes of organizing her things. ]