[The last thing Fiora remembers is Shulk's sleeping face as she stood over his hospital bed, trying to talk him into waking up from his coma. Perhaps she had wandered out of the room afterwards, perhaps she'd found a quiet place to rest and managed to doze off to sleep. That would especially explain the dream-like situation she's in now. But it's Shulk's face that omes to mind as she's looking around the inside of this busted ship and the half-dead people around her. Wherever she is, she shouldn't be here; she needs to get back to Shulk. There's still too much to do.
Freeing herself from her - seat? bindings? she's too dazed to tell - is easy enough. She clasps her robotic fingers around the belts keeping her strapped in and rips them away from the seat with little effort. Her heavy feet hit the ground a second later. Now she can see all the way down the middle lane between the seats - dozens of people, some clearly dead and others as uninjured as she is, and a huge gash in the hull of whatever ship this is.]
Are you alright?
[She asks the person who was seated next to her, but a few seconds later she realizes they're... gone. Sobered, she nevertheless moves to the next person, and the one after, looking for anyone she can help, anyone who's become stuck in their seat or can't get out on their own.]
Hey... hey! Can you hear me? Are you alright?
( 2. outside )
[Whatever's going on here, it's clearly intentional on the part of whoever strapped them into that ship. Fiora stands over the pile of backpacks she scavenged from the ship, one of them being her own and the others belonging to those who passed away as a result of a crash. Or apparent crash - it certainly looks like that's what happened, but nobody remembers any of it.
Water, rope, pills of some kind, a number of devices she doesn't recognize, a blanket... and food, although there wasn't a need to include food in her backpack. She'd have gladly taken more water instead. For a few minutes, she wonders if she can barter away her food for water, but most if not all of the people here are going to need water as much as she will.
With a deep sigh, she tries to keep herself on-task instead of dwelling on this frustratingly implausible and unexplained predicament. Grabbing one of the extra backpacks, she trudges her half-metal body up to the nearest person.]
Excuse me. There are some extra supplies here if you'd care for some. [she pauses. oh, what the heck, she'll try anyway.] ...I've got extra food, too, if you're willing to trade some of your water.
Fiora | Xenoblade Chronicles
[The last thing Fiora remembers is Shulk's sleeping face as she stood over his hospital bed, trying to talk him into waking up from his coma. Perhaps she had wandered out of the room afterwards, perhaps she'd found a quiet place to rest and managed to doze off to sleep. That would especially explain the dream-like situation she's in now. But it's Shulk's face that omes to mind as she's looking around the inside of this busted ship and the half-dead people around her. Wherever she is, she shouldn't be here; she needs to get back to Shulk. There's still too much to do.
Freeing herself from her - seat? bindings? she's too dazed to tell - is easy enough. She clasps her robotic fingers around the belts keeping her strapped in and rips them away from the seat with little effort. Her heavy feet hit the ground a second later. Now she can see all the way down the middle lane between the seats - dozens of people, some clearly dead and others as uninjured as she is, and a huge gash in the hull of whatever ship this is.]
Are you alright?
[She asks the person who was seated next to her, but a few seconds later she realizes they're... gone. Sobered, she nevertheless moves to the next person, and the one after, looking for anyone she can help, anyone who's become stuck in their seat or can't get out on their own.]
Hey... hey! Can you hear me? Are you alright?
( 2. outside )
[Whatever's going on here, it's clearly intentional on the part of whoever strapped them into that ship. Fiora stands over the pile of backpacks she scavenged from the ship, one of them being her own and the others belonging to those who passed away as a result of a crash. Or apparent crash - it certainly looks like that's what happened, but nobody remembers any of it.
Water, rope, pills of some kind, a number of devices she doesn't recognize, a blanket... and food, although there wasn't a need to include food in her backpack. She'd have gladly taken more water instead. For a few minutes, she wonders if she can barter away her food for water, but most if not all of the people here are going to need water as much as she will.
With a deep sigh, she tries to keep herself on-task instead of dwelling on this frustratingly implausible and unexplained predicament. Grabbing one of the extra backpacks, she trudges her half-metal body up to the nearest person.]
Excuse me. There are some extra supplies here if you'd care for some. [she pauses. oh, what the heck, she'll try anyway.] ...I've got extra food, too, if you're willing to trade some of your water.