The first thing Quinn did after her eyes cracked open was yawn. Cavernously.

The second thing she did was stretch, grunting quietly in satisfaction as her joints made pleasant popping sounds.

The second thing she did was frown, still a little muddled from sleep. The TV? Why was the TV saying her name?

Throwing on a gray t-shirt and the same black sweats she'd worn for her phasing test (she'd grown quite attached to them by now, given that they ranked among the first things to really belong to [i]her)[/i], she padded over to the door and pushed it open. It was getting easier and easier every day. And her focus was elsewhere anyway.

[i][color=ffe63d]What??[/color][/i]

[i]She was on TV.[/i]

And not just her Savior. [i]Her,[/i] leaning tiredly against [i]Ablaze[/i]'s neck. A memory of the exhaustion she'd felt at that moment echoed through her and she flinched. Then it cut to a clip of her backpedaling frantically away from [i]Blotklau[/i] as ichor sprayed from countless wounds. The newscaster was saying something about potential hostilities and certain political tension between Runa and Helburke, and she stared for a moment longer, horribly fascinated at seeing her Savior moving in third person. Even now, it still gave her chills.

She turned her head then to Dahlia, cocking her head with an expression of vague worry on her face.

"[color=ffe63d]Why am I on TV, Deelie? It's been [i]days,[/i] right?[/color]" She looked back at the news. There she was again, making that...surprisingly graceful, now that she looked at it...roll as her cannon blazed. "[color=ffe63d]Is this normal?[/color]"