At what she assumed was exactly 0630 hours, Ash's eyelids blinked open. She blinked several more times before coming to her senses, and took a breath. That was when she immediately noticed something. For one, the air smelled different than the usual sterile recycled air on ships, and it smelled rather woody, and crisp. Not noticing anything that amiss yet, she shifted in her sheets, and that was when she noticed that they were much softer and warm than the hard mattress and thin blanket of standard bunks. Anxiety setting in, she hastily looked around, and immediately noticed that she wasn't in her bunk at all. In fact, she didn't even know where she was. Of course, it took her a few more seconds to finally notice the additional warmth next to her. Turning, she noticed that there was a man lying next to her, fast asleep.

"What the fuck?!" Ash cried, kicking up her blankets as she attempted to escape, but only ended up rolling off her side of the bed and landing on the floor with a thud. However, her combat training kicked in, and she was back on her feet in an instant. She raised her fists in a combat stance. "Hey! What the hell is-" She suddenly clamped her hands over her mouth when she noticed something very wrong, something that emanated from her and yet seemed so foreign at the same time.

That wasn't her voice.

Eyes widening, she examined her shaking hands, which also weren't hers. She slowly looked down and noticed that she was wearing an absurdly soft sleeping gown. She tested it, and found that it was made of authentic silk. Of course, she couldn't really be certain, considering that silk belonged in a museum, and all fabric was synthetic, anyway. Shaking her head to brush these thoughts away and focus on the situation on hand, she glared at the awoken form of the man. "Alright, tell me where the fuck I am, who the fuck you are, and what the fuck happened to me, RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" As she did this, she noticed a lock of light brown hair fall into view. It was too long for her. She would probably get it cut later.

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At precisely 0630 hours, the lights in every single bunk blinked on, signalling the start of another dutiful day. Similarly, Graves' own grey eyes also blinked open, and he repeated this action as his eyes adjusted to the light. Yawning, he kicked off the sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stretched and stared at the bunk above. "Hey, Ash, you awake?" He asked, only to get no response. Which was strange, considering that Ashley somehow always woke up at the exact moment the clock struck 0630.

Graves stood up and reached out to give his bunkmate a light shove. "Come on, Ash, time to wake up." He gave her another shove after a few more seconds of unresponsiveness. "Ash?"