The hangar had become a...strange place for Quinn in recent days. Until very recently, it had been a place of abject fear and pain for her. Her disastrous phase test, the traumatic drawing of her weapon, the horror of what had happened in Casoban; if she was in the hangar, it usually meant that things were going terribly wrong, and it was her job to make sure they went back [i]right.[/i] 

But the recent visits had slackened that off a bit. She'd started talking to the staff more, getting to know them on a deeper level than "the ones that manage my Savior." So when she walked through the open door into the cavernous interior of the hangar, she took a deep, calming breath.

...Before she was poleaxed by [i]Ablaze[/i] standing and staring at her.e

A shudder ran up and down her spine, and a thrill of fear jabbed claws into her mind. It had been two months and change since Hovvi. Long enough, however long it exactly was, that the sharper edges of the memories were starting to wear themselves down a little. But no matter how often she saw [i]Ablaze[/i], a part of her was still lying on that street crying as [i]Jubilee[/i] stood headless above the wreckage of a town she'd never known. She took long, deep breaths, bringing herself forward in time again and doing her best to calm herself down as she began the long walk across the hangar to her Savior.

It looked okay. Nothing was wrong with it, as far as she could tell. The searing eye was dead, staring unseeing out. At her, it almost felt like, and breathed away another shiver as she remembered the last time it had [i]looked[/i] at her. The yellow metal plate was fine; all the scratches it had accrued had been buffed out and it looked like it had just been recolored. 

It was as she was approaching—wondering whether or not [i]Ablaze[/i] was equipped with a lift platform at the moment for her to look at the cockpit—that she noticed the figure crouching by the Savior. She walked over, curious what was going on, what this person was doing, when they—[i]she[/i]—turned and nearly [i]sprinted[/i] over. Quinn's eye went wide in something like alarm as she started spouting words like a broken spigot. A new hangar intern named Tillie, and, uh...from the way she was talking, she was probably...a fan? Though she was aware they were out there, Quinn had never actually interacted with any of her fans as yet.

It looked like that was about to change, as she stood there and suddenly realized she had no idea what to say. She stood there for a few more seconds, feeling like an absolute idiot as she tried to put together words of some kind. Somehow this person managed to be intimidating without any attempts to do so. Her throat had gone dry.

"[color=ffe63d]I...um, can...can I call you Tillie?[/color]"

She paused for a moment as she collected herself, and a smile—pale and wan, but probably more genuine than anything Tillie had ever seen out of her—came to her face. "[color=ffe63d]And, uh, just...Quinn is fine. If you want.[/color]" She stole a curious glance at what Tillie was carrying, whatever device was now holding some shavings of her Savior and beeping aggressively. It set her teeth on edge. What if it meant there really [i]was[/i] something wrong with [i]Ablaze?[/i] A distant part of her knew that was absurd, but it still dug into her. "[color=ffe63d]So, um,[/color]" she motioned to the plate, hating how unsure she sounded, "[color=ffe63d]is there something wrong with my—[/color]"

[i]My Savior.[/i] It still felt wrong to say out loud.

"[color=ffe63d]—with [i]Ablaze?[/i][/color]"