[right][color=slategray][u][b]Marlowe Tolfell[/b][/u][/color][/right]


Marlowe realised a little too late that, "Are you okay?" was a dumb question in their current situation. Undoubtedly, not one of the forty [s]inmates[/s] Malfunctions piled into this room were okay, and they probably didn't want or need to be reminded of that. The boy - er, man - took a minute to organize himself and his thoughts, so she spent that time looking him over. He seemed a bit cramped in his bunk when he was sitting up, and his legs were long, so he was tall. She didn't mind that sort of thing but she was kinda glad that she'd met him when he was sitting down, or else he might've been a bit intimidating. He looked strong, too. She realised she was being a bit judgmental, and he still hadn't responded, maybe she shouldn't have said anything after all. Luckily, he didn't seem all that bothered. He gave her a nice face and a fake answer, and she wasn't going to call him out on it. 

Well actually, she kind of was, but not in a mean way. Of course he wasn't fine. She swallowed hard and gave a smile, although it didn't come out right.

[color=slategray]"It's okay,"[/color] She said, hoarsely. [color=slategray]"I'm not fine either."[/color] She didn't mean to sound like she thought he was a liar or anything, but in this situation it was pretty obvious that none of them were actually okay. She was shooting for "comforting", or "relateable", or at least she was trying to. She just didn't know how.

Marlowe's cheeks went hot when he pointed out her wrist. It wasn't too bad and she hadn't been trying to draw attention to it. When he leaned closer to inspect it she gave an awkward, breathy laugh, though it didn't sound much like one, and started chewing on her lips out of nervous habit. Being looked at that way had always made her uncomfortable, like she had to explain herself. She probably wouldn't have to here, but she couldn't stop herself from reacting awkwardly.

[color=slategray]"It's just a little swollen."[/color] There were plenty of other injured people, she wasn't a exactly a special case. Marlowe cracked another smile, a little easier than the last one, and gave a gentle squeeze to her wrist to prove to him that it wasn't a big deal. She wasn't lying, it didn't hurt. She just didn't think it was necessary to go into the details.


They were both too exhausted to try and keep up with false pretenses or fake conversations. Marlowe sighed and leaned her head against the wooden bar of her bunk.

[color=slategray]"I don't really know what to do with myself."[/color] Marlowe didn't know why she was forcing the conversation, but she was. Talking was helping keep her mind off of things. [color=slategray]"This is probably the worse thing I've ever been through,"[/color] It made her life sound so cushy, and maybe it had been. She'd just been taking it for granted.

[color=slategray]"How about you?"[/color]