Marked

[Toaster]

"Good," she replied immediately. "I didn't mean to hang on to it longer than necessary." She stepped forward, letting the door shut behind her. Her eyes wandered about the quarters with mild disdain. "Sure made a mess," she observed matter-of-factly as she stooped over to pick up some papers that lay strewn across the floor. She glanced at what was printed on them - apparently a list of supplies to be acquired. Shrugging, she stacked them neatly and placed them back on the ground, out of the way.

"You know, you could've just given me directions to this little hole of yours," she spoke as she casually wandered around the room, looking around the mayhem with feigned listlessness. "Then at least I'd have my ship nearby." Her tone made it clear that she wasn't happy with the hoops she'd had to jump through to get here.

Olivia glanced at Moretti out of the corners of her eyes, trying to get a read on his current mental state. She understood that he was upset about what had happened to Sal - regardless of how uninterested he liked to be make himself out to be - but she wasn't sure she wanted to spend too much time around a man who had clearly taken a step off the deep end with frustration or grief. Or perhaps a mixture of both. Either was volatile enough on its own.

---

Olivia Sable