Dresden returned to her room after getting the updates recommended--from a techie acquaintance, on the ship since a bit before she got on herself, who'd done good work as long as she'd known her. Her pocket contents were still spread over the cot, and she swept them to the foot of it with a quick wipe of her tail as she pulled her locker open, pulling out a small laptop type device--not quite useful enough to be called a personal computer, but good for checking messages, and downloaded full of games and a few books. She clicked it on, dropping backwards onto the bed, sparing a glance at the wall above her pillow before clicking onto games. The only decoration in the small bunk was a four by seven photograph, held up by two pieces of scotch tape, depicting a young boy with shaggy dark hair and wide brown eyes and arms wrapped around a girl--slitted gold eyes and dark yellow hair, clearly a young Dresden--who seemed to be caught mid-squirm, though her face still stretched into a grin.
With a few deft swipes of her thumb, Dresden pulled up some mystery adventure game and started playing. Nothing to do until the mission was done--settled in for the long haul.
Teeth was at least marginally more productive, packing up most of the basic supplies that the ground medics would need--he knew he didn't quite cover everything, but he had a few quick first-aid kits for them ready and boxed for when they arrived, and placed near the start of the medical ward where they'd be easily seen and picked up. Following that, he double-checked the organization of the stations--just in case people needed to pick up some more specific stuff--and then headed back to his own bunk.
His was more decorated--framed photographs of himself, landscapes, locals, various pictures of varying qualities, some seeming almost professional and some clearly amateurish. Scattered between these were the trinkets he'd collected before--the little rock, little necklaces and arrowheads, many of which were crude and unpolished, but every one held it's own charm and little aura of home. The new bracelet was gently balanced atop a frame holding a picture of a field of flowers--various colours, messy and unorganized, but the sun striking each one so that it glowed.
He, too, curled into his bed, snagging his reader off the table that served as his nightstand, and flipping it open to whatever page of the dimestore romance novel he was currently reading.
