Myrina had peeked into each room amidst the banter, eyeing the accommodations. They weren't anything spectacular, by any stretch of the imagination, but the notion of personal living space was a boon; it was more forgiving than the militia barracks had been. Once she was confident she found the unclaimed space with the least rigid bedding, she tossed her belongings inside. Her clothing was arranged by drawer; undergarments and socks at the top, shirts in the second, legwear and heavier articles at the bottom. All this was neatly folded and categorized by weight and color, although as Myrina became more accustomed to life on the [i]Claw[/i], she predicted she wouldn't be nearly as orderly as this again. 

She was in the middle of laying out her chest harness and other gear when Colonel Blade's [i]"101st! Fall in!"[/i] shot through the living quarters, and she poked her head through the door, watching the rest of the pilots gather outside. She'd have to finish getting settled later. Myrina dropped her things and joined them, finding a place to stand among her new peers.