Her mind had been.. cloudy since arriving. It has like coming out of a very vivid, weird dream. Everything felt different. Cold was colder for example. She didn't feel particularly fussed about being there, not for the reasons everyone else had to be, the attachments of their own lives. Yeah, her husband and kids would probably be annoying the police at every opportunity, well okay, Chad would be doing that. The pompous asshole. Not because of any care. But because she handled everything, kept things going, and that meant he would have to step up beyond driving them in the mornings and letting his mother snipe at her through calls made over speakerphone. The annoying man who tried to (with a loud voice, ugh, he had no sense of volume control or how to talk like someone who wasn't constantly hooked up into a chat room, or social media, chat rooms had gone by the wayside, huh?) hook her up with his friend - who at least seemed caught just as off guard as she had been and seemed sincere, um, nice. She couldn't place her finger on it. But she felt bad when her family had gotten involved in the chat. No one had paid her much mind but she also hadn't gone out of her way to pay them much mind either.
The woman's eyes fell onto the uniform she was wearing. It was certainly...a choice. At least in the design. It was far from something she would willingly wear, but desperate times call for desperate measures she supposes. It was at least clothing. She had arrived here mostly naked, wearing a tank and shorts, and it had been much too chilly for such an outfit, and once she had been able to find the clothing she had decided to deal with looking ridiculous. Like someone out of one of the old TV shows that people still sometimes talked about but had long mostly disappeared from the public minus occasional references.
Her eyes move away from the still-hot cup of coffee in her hands. She supposes she should count her blessings. Then she quickly scoffs at herself and moves her gaze around to the others milling around. What kind of blessing was the fact these replicators (a sour taste comes into her mouth when the word pops into her head) could give her coffee or whatever it claimed was coffee. It tasted enough like what it claimed to be. But, coffee? That was... it was a low bar. Admittedly. Though, she had the nagging feeling that it could be much worse. At least the food and drinks looked and mostly tasted right. And the temperature was at least comfortable enough. But, everything else? Well, she wondered where she could even begin. The weird plugs on her arms, in the back of her head? That might be a good place. But she had the feeling those weren't Q's doing. No one else had them. She wondered if she could even ask if that person, being, whatever, came up to her and admitted who they were.
Probably for the best, she might hit them. Hard. Or as hard as her noodles of arms would allow for the time being. Chad would have had a field day with that thought.
She would have to ask about that as well. Why was her body thin, sickly, lacking strength? And they expected her to be security? Like this? Not that she couldn't have handled it in the past. That kind of role, while not entirely natural, felt... well, she knew she could handle it.
The woman then shut her eyes. How could such a short amount of time on her feet be so exhausting? That was as good of a place to start. Even the short walk to this... she supposes it was a bar of some sort, maybe a canteen had been enough to take it out of her. She, at least, found a place to rest that was near the replicator so it was easy enough to help herself to what was her one (acceptable) vice, her one comfort back home. Then her mind went to her family. This had been the first time in a while where she had been able to grab a cup of coffee without having someone browbeating her or tugging on her, without being worried about being late to something, without being forced to get it to go. It was nice not having to toss dollar bills at the counter too. It wasn't particularly quiet here with the sounds of others talking and the humming of the things that kept the ship running, nothing out of the ordinary - she paused at that thought, how was this ordinary? Maybe it was just bad wording but there was something comforting about metal corridors. Even if she had... huh, she had never seen such a place before, but...
She shut her eyes and started to count to ten - something she warned the kids to do before tantrums more than once, not that they ever listened or anyone really. It bothered her at first. When she realized that she might as well be a wall for all the good her words did with them. But she thought that was normal? But now that she was here? And had been for a few, how long was it already, not long but long enough and the first time she was alone for at least a day and away from the city she resided in, for a while then she wondered if it wasn't. Or if she even wanted that.
To any outsider, she looked tired and ready to crash and maybe she did but she was going to sit there, in one of the empty chairs, for as long as she could. Staring into the coffee in her hands.
Even with looking like a character in one of those old shows, this was... alright. Weird. But alright.
Was that horrible of her?
It felt weird to think about home.
Who was she kidding? She had so many questions. Her head started to throb.
Open
The woman's eyes fell onto the uniform she was wearing. It was certainly...a choice. At least in the design. It was far from something she would willingly wear, but desperate times call for desperate measures she supposes. It was at least clothing. She had arrived here mostly naked, wearing a tank and shorts, and it had been much too chilly for such an outfit, and once she had been able to find the clothing she had decided to deal with looking ridiculous. Like someone out of one of the old TV shows that people still sometimes talked about but had long mostly disappeared from the public minus occasional references.
Her eyes move away from the still-hot cup of coffee in her hands. She supposes she should count her blessings. Then she quickly scoffs at herself and moves her gaze around to the others milling around. What kind of blessing was the fact these replicators (a sour taste comes into her mouth when the word pops into her head) could give her coffee or whatever it claimed was coffee. It tasted enough like what it claimed to be. But, coffee? That was... it was a low bar. Admittedly. Though, she had the nagging feeling that it could be much worse. At least the food and drinks looked and mostly tasted right. And the temperature was at least comfortable enough. But, everything else? Well, she wondered where she could even begin. The weird plugs on her arms, in the back of her head? That might be a good place. But she had the feeling those weren't Q's doing. No one else had them. She wondered if she could even ask if that person, being, whatever, came up to her and admitted who they were.
Probably for the best, she might hit them. Hard. Or as hard as her noodles of arms would allow for the time being. Chad would have had a field day with that thought.
She would have to ask about that as well. Why was her body thin, sickly, lacking strength? And they expected her to be security? Like this? Not that she couldn't have handled it in the past. That kind of role, while not entirely natural, felt... well, she knew she could handle it.
The woman then shut her eyes. How could such a short amount of time on her feet be so exhausting? That was as good of a place to start. Even the short walk to this... she supposes it was a bar of some sort, maybe a canteen had been enough to take it out of her. She, at least, found a place to rest that was near the replicator so it was easy enough to help herself to what was her one (acceptable) vice, her one comfort back home. Then her mind went to her family. This had been the first time in a while where she had been able to grab a cup of coffee without having someone browbeating her or tugging on her, without being worried about being late to something, without being forced to get it to go. It was nice not having to toss dollar bills at the counter too. It wasn't particularly quiet here with the sounds of others talking and the humming of the things that kept the ship running, nothing out of the ordinary - she paused at that thought, how was this ordinary? Maybe it was just bad wording but there was something comforting about metal corridors. Even if she had... huh, she had never seen such a place before, but...
She shut her eyes and started to count to ten - something she warned the kids to do before tantrums more than once, not that they ever listened or anyone really. It bothered her at first. When she realized that she might as well be a wall for all the good her words did with them. But she thought that was normal? But now that she was here? And had been for a few, how long was it already, not long but long enough and the first time she was alone for at least a day and away from the city she resided in, for a while then she wondered if it wasn't. Or if she even wanted that.
To any outsider, she looked tired and ready to crash and maybe she did but she was going to sit there, in one of the empty chairs, for as long as she could. Staring into the coffee in her hands.
Even with looking like a character in one of those old shows, this was... alright. Weird. But alright.
Was that horrible of her?
It felt weird to think about home.
Who was she kidding? She had so many questions. Her head started to throb.