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@jeffsmoreauisms (cont.)
[ Tiny Shannon ] Or both.
[ Tiny Shannon ] I think considering everything, we should go with both.
[ Tiny Shannon ] Also, FUCKING DITTO COMMANDER.
[ Joker ]: Both is good. Both is accurate. [ Joker ]: Wait, so I’ve ruined your life or I’m really fun? [ Joker ]: I’m sure you meant both but I want to make sure. I never know with you.
" Oh, well, if you all need a good laugh, by all means endanger my life. "
texts from last night starters || accepting
[ Tali ]: You knew what you signed up for.[ Tali ]: You signed up for this drive core and this ass.[ Tali ]: Well maybe not the last one but YOU SAID YOU WERE HAVING FUN.
+ eshcp +
Garrus eyes the large cargo bay of the new Normandy from the Engineering Deck. He’d wandered, seeing how much is different and how much Cerberus copied. It helps to keep his mind off... things... better than calibrating the guns could. But he has some other form of stress relief in mind.
It seems big enough. He could engineer some sort of back barrier, use some extra mats as targets... He doesn’t think he could pierce the hull... He’d ask EDI but she’d rat him out to Joker in a heartbeat. The pilot would never allow Garrus to risk the Normandy’s stability.
The elevator wooshes open behind him, snapping him out of his planning. He recognizes the boots on the deck and relaxes ever so slightly. At least he can be mostly honest with her. He itches at his bandage thoughtfully.
“Shepard. How would you feel about me building a firing range in the cargo hold?”
+ commanderspectre +
The last few hours had been... harrowing, to say the least. Yes, the squad had all survived their suicide mission to stop the Collectors and save their crew and what colonists they could. But each of them had had close calls. Garrus included. A Collector managed to get a shot in. His armor had taken most of the blow, of course, but blue blood still leaked through the crack above his hip. Nothing serious, just annoying. And painful.
He’s sat on a bed in the med bay, patiently waiting his turn as Chakwas checks over everyone. He can wait. The recovered crew is their priority. The door slides open, revealing their fearless leader. He leans back onto his hands, exuding pride and confidence despite the throb of his wound.
“There she is, woman of the hour, somehow managing to look better than the rest of us after a firefight.” He does his best to let the pride and excitement be heard more than any discomfort, but his subharmonics can’t lie. Luckily, Shepard shouldn’t understand them as well as a Turian can. “Tell me, how does it feel to survive a second suicide mission with me? Do you think it was as fun as the first? I thought climbing Citadel Tower was as good as it could get.”
+ subject-zero-zero-bullshit +
Garrus sits at the table on the crew deck, taking apart and cleaning his rifle. It’s been longer than the Turian would like since he’s done this relaxing and comforting task. There’s Collector or Hust or merc blood, dirt, grime, even his own blue blood in some of the nooks and crannies. He loves the thing too much to let it go this long without a good clean. Current objectives haven’t given any of the squad much down time.
He’d been vaguely aware of someone watching him, and he’s fairly certain on who it is based on their unnerving silence and closeness behind him. Garrus has no problems with the biotic. But that doesn’t make her interpersonal communication and interaction any easier to deal with. He clears his throat.
“Jack, don’t take this the wrong way but... You’re making me i n c r e d i b l y uncomfortable right now.”
+ lassusanima +
Garrus hears the Main Battery door open, but doesn’t look up from the weapon in his hands. He’d taken the assault rifle from the armory when Jacob wasn’t looking. He’d just wanted to see what Cerberus is packing. Know your enemy, backer, financier... whatever. He recognizes the footsteps of his visitor, and hums low in acknowledgement.
“Shepard. Cerberus’ weapons leave a lot to be desired. I hope you’re in charge of the upgrades. I can’t work like this.”
He keeps his sub-vocals warm, friendly. Of course, he’s not entirely joking.
+ descivit +
[ Shepard gave a soft sigh, whilst leaning against the Turian’s body behind her, wrapping pale arms around Garrus’ neck. ]
❝Someone is eager to unwind.❞
Garrus hums, a deep rumble in his chest. Having her confirm her reciprocated feelings? attraction always delights him. But to show it would simply prove how bad a Turian he is.
“Who said anything about unwinding? What if I was just curious about human physiology?” He nuzzles her neck. “You seem like you could use some unwinding yourself, Commander.”
+ genophxge +
“ Not very sociable today. If here to try and make small talk, leave. If medical matters, happy to help. ”
Garrus blinks. Sure, Mordin isn’t exactly the friendliest member of the crew. But his shortness is... unexpected. Any snark or joke Garrus could have intended to use fades away in his confusion.
“Huh... r i g h t. Well. I am in fact here for medical assistance, so. Guess it’s our lucky day."
