Mona grinned, clapping excitedly. Behind her, Besca was almost slack-jawed at how bright and giddy Quinn sounded—how enthusiastic, how [i]normal[/i]. She’d heard her happy in the lulls between personal apocalypses, but this was so much…[i]different[/i]. She hardly recognized her voice. 

“That’s right, folks!” Mona said. “Quinnlash Loughvein is here with us tonight, and I could [i]not[/i] be happier, let me tell you. But first things first—the entre to our entre. We had another guest join us earlier, a chef from the Aerie Station, mister Akihiro—am I saying that right? Akihiro? Well he came down and whipped up this salmon for us tonight and, folks, if I could just…”

She brought the plate up to her face and took an exaggerated whiff. “Oh, my [i]gawsh[/i]. I don’t know a whole lot about Tohoken cuisine, but if this doesn’t just smell like heaven, then nothing does. Quinn, honey, I know you’re the star here tonight but I am [i]almost[/i] as excited to dig into this as I am to talk to you, and it’s [i]your[/i] favorite dish so I can only imagine how you’re feeling. So why don’t we kick things off here with a few bites, hm?”

Mona twirled her fork between her fingers and speared a small chunk of fish up. She popped it into her mouth, and her other hand came up over her lips while she chewed. 

“Good god,” she mumbled, swallowing and turning briefly around to Besca. “He cooks up there for you all? Are you hiring? Oh, I don’t think I ever need to ask another Runan why they want to be a pilot again.”

She took a few more bites, and whatever idea Quinn might have had that the questions were coming soon and rapidly would quickly melt away. Mona hadn’t been lying, she seemed just as interested in the dinner than she was with her. 

Eventually she did manage a question, unceremoniously covering her mouth to speak while she chewed. “So, Quinn, I gotta know—what do you do with that beautiful braid while you’re all set up in the cockpit? You know, when you’re running and jumping and blasting and all that, is it in there flapping around? Does it, like, smack you at all? I’ve heard it’s hard to snap a pilot out of the zone, but that thing looks [i]hefty[/i]. I mean, it’s so cramped in there, isn’t it? And I wake up if I [i]turn[/i] the wrong way at night. I couldn’t imagine having a flail come at me in the dark.”