action
[ aradia had quietly slipped out of her room and into the rest of the dome very early in the "morning", doing her best not to disturb her roommates, the whip she had made with piter long ago hanging at her waist.
she'd felt something off before she'd even realized the whole deal with how dark it was. but the thing here is -- "off" was familiar to her. this sharp sense of foreboding, hair on the back of her neck raised, conditions in which most species are barely able to see. her race was made for danger, for violence, for a lot of things, and so she's right at home.
before everything goes downhill, she spends her time poking around, trying to find some cause to the unusual circumstances.
when proper danger hits, however, she devotes herself to bailing whoever she can out of trouble first, and revelling in the strange situation second.
(she very firmly tries to avoid letting anyone see any fear-based reaction she has, though it definitely happens.) ]