IC: Dryn Savato, Draconia
Having "quarters" (like brainquarters, only without the brain, she figured) of her own was a strange new concept for Smoke Alarm. As long as she could remember, she'd bunked with her fellow Blue Kangs in their brainquarters, and always got the bottom bunk. Even when they'd moved into the empty apartments after the downfall of the Chief Caretaker, they'd sleepover together in fours and threes and twos, as much for safety as companionship, in constant slumber parties and settling into cuddle-piles. She'd shared quarters on the Exeter with other crew-women, though she'd got the top bunk then. The rest of the time, the time on her own and lost, Smoke Alarm slept wherever she could find, any place sound-and-safe that she could fit. Even on the talkiphone box, no-one had show-and-telled her a quarters of her own, so Smoke footed about, but Sweet Boy always had a place that was sound-and-safe that she could fit.
But in this Blue Pavilion she had a quarters all of her own, with a bathroom, a cupboard, and a bedroom, bigger than even the apartments in Paradise Towers, with a big big bed all for her. But it felt strange and lonely to be a little mouse in such big rooms, lost in such an empty bed. Still, she could jump on it.
Loitering about while Sereth worked, mindful of his warnings about to-dos, Smoke Alarm only had time to explore the quarters themselves, outlooking at all the furniture and fixtures, before she footed out into the rest of the Blue Pavilion. The vast park outside was rather too much like the great outdoors for Smoke Alarm, so, like a mouse, she loitered around the familiar territory of the Pavilion and stayed under cover.
Dog-eared, she heard Sereth's words from a room away and came rushing into his office. 'Fadreen and Gilso? Icehot!'