The dorm wasn’t silent. As she drew closer to Roaki’s room she could hear noises, muffled voices talking excitedly about…something. Right at the door, her a tingle spread across her brain—as it always did when they got close to Roaki, some lingering apprehension, a protective wariness forced upon her. Then, among the muffled voices, she heard someone unfamiliar say ‘[i]Quinnlash Loughvein[/i]’, followed by a bouncing, like someone hopping up and down on a mattress.

Then she knocked and the sound cut out. Something tumbled to the floor and there was a sharp “[color=ec008c][i]Oof![/i][/color]” from inside. Thumping and scrambling, something impacted the door and then it was flung open. 

Roaki looked up at her from the ground, leaning on her arm, dressed in a sterile white shirt and black pants tied off at the knees. She looked…well, it was hard for someone with so much modium scarring to look [i]healthy[/i]. But she was washed, and though she was still almost bone-pale, she no longer looked as shockingly malnourished as she had in the ward. Her hair fluffed out around her like a pile of down. Silver eyes peered up at her, wide. 

“[color=ec008c]Oi! Deadgirl![/color]” she shouted, as though they weren’t mere feet apart. She whirled, drag-hopping along the floor back to her bed, which had been lowered to the ground despite her protests. A small screen in the wall played muted footage of [i]Ablaze[/i] squaring off against the first two Modir. 

Roaki pulled herself onto the mattress and pointed as the first was destroyed. “[color=ec008c]You shot the fuckin’ [i]missiles[/i]![/color]” She said, in a weird flux between question and very loud statement. The footage played until the third Modir burst through the smoke and put [i]Ablaze[/i] on the defensive. “[color=ec008c]Hey! But! This part! With the—[/color]”

[i]Ablaze[/i] kicked out at the Modir, first to the spearman’s shin, then the bladed one’s arm. Roaki mirrored both, flailing the empty pantleg that was actually filled to the knee. 

“[color=ec008c]With the kicking! That’s good! None of the lameass cannon shit! You get in there and you—[/color]” She threw out another kick, twisting herself on the bed and flinging out a haymaker with her one arm. “[color=ec008c]That’s good! That's how it’s done![/color]”