[ Rose is one of the coherent that aids in getting people off the hunk of junk. The smell of acrid smoke along with the sounds of wires hissing sparks and the hull of the ship groaning in an unsettling way definitely kind of sped things up as well, she's sure. She's lucky, she realizes, to be as alright as she is. Some people have serious injuries. Some people are... Well, she'd rather not think about the ones that didn't make it. The focus is, instead, on making sure everyone is safe.

It takes a lot though to step up and be the one to organize something like that, however, and Rose appreciates it. Not many people would have. She wouldn't have, even for as guilty as it makes her feel. That's what a 'me or them' deep-rooted mentality will do to a person in times of crisis though she supposes. ]

Hey, uh. Thanks. For, y'know, helping and getting other people to help. That was awesome. [ And she genuinely means that. ] Are... you alright though? [ She doesn't just mean physically, naturally. They've all got their own aches and pains - Rose herself is sporting a rather nice gash on her temple the looks a lot worse than it actually is, really - but it's the psychological stuff, the amnesia, that's getting to her more than anything. She hates not remembering. It wasn't a good thing before, she doubts it's a good thing now. ]