(the outcry catches her attention. the only other girl in the orientation session, getting harassed already? go figure.

with a roll of her eyes, unsurprised, sombra edges out of the room with her own bag slung over her shoulder, very unsatisfied with the feet-first drop into the unknown. only one thing in her life has ever been this jarring and that sure as hell didn't involve the vast expanse of space, but she's adept at sorting out her feelings alone. preferably not while there's a skittish young girl holding up a camera like she's stepped into the plot of goosebumps' "say cheese and die". classic.)

Hey, don't worry about it. (comes the perpetually sly voice, taking mio's side at a distance some people like to call... invasive.) I did the same thing when I saw the uniform. They got the colour right, but you can't make me talk about the design—

(and that's about when she spots the blood, turning a shoulder to look at her straight.

while not expressly concerning to her (this girl's a stranger and, despite the pretty face, who knows what trouble she's been up to?), blood left to dry is old and stagnant and potentially a hazard with the amount of crammed onto this ship with no way off but limited escape pods. don't want anything nasty being spread.)

Hold on, amiga, what happened there?