Re: Third class hallways
"Right," she said, a drawl of bright vowel as her eyebrows inched up. "Well if it's in another room, then it did a number on you as you were walking through." She cocked one hip to the side as she crossed arms over her chest. The position brought kneesocks easily into view, bleached white to cover slim calves down to high-priced loafers (no heel to them, nothing to plant her toes and flex her leg into a sculpted curve). Even in low light, even uncertain of the woman in front of her and the ship around them, she catches the rub at skin gone discolored a darker red than beaded dress.
She took a moment to rock with the ship (those flat loafers good for something as silly as balance, she supposed), and then she smiled. "Out for a while. Something like that. They decided they didn't want me to come any more." Her smile faded again as more details came to light, more blood and the rumpled appearance of someone tossed away. And maybe usually she wouldn't ask, but tonight was different, and the words were given freer than they're used to. "You need anything other than the cigarette? Really, you look like you could use a hand there." The faded smile continued to shift, easily into the territory of a frown. "I'm pretty sure cleaning the blood off might be a start."
It made her heartbeat pitter and jump, those words, in reaction to things gone very vitally wrong somewhere. But bravery and a good dose of acting kept her from anything that might have been an over-reaction.