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@teltinsurvivor
PINNED; PLEASE READ
this is an independent, selective roleplay blog of jack from the mass effect games. mun is 21+. please read the rules prior to following me, thank you.
guidelines || verses || headcanons || memes || tag dump || wishlist
liara's features remained stoic, but the jack's biotic-blue dimmed and the woman's hands fell to her sides━ THE UTTER RELIEF THAT FLOODED LIARA'S HEART . liara actually hasn't ever personally seen jack fight, but she's taking an educated guess from shepard's recollections and what she does know that jack is far more vious with biotic prowess than even the pure-blood asari. LIARA'S BLUE EYES REMAINED SOFT, LIPS LESS OF A PURSE . not quite ready to defend herself anymore, her body turns the slightest towards her array of screens and machinery, contemplating on the spot to bring up the data and choosing to believe that may not have any empathy to the action. HER BODY TURNS BACK TOWARDS JACK . liara's gloved hand reaches up, gently extends towards jack's shoulder, pauses so jack can choose to accept the touch or deny it. liara breathes in softly.
"the information i am about to give you is in the exact order i have read it and came to understand who it belonged to. the name given to by a parent at birth was jennifer reassigned a subject number instead. your memories were erased to make room for the experiments by cerberus on pragia. the experiments abruptly ended with you escaped. cerberus lost sight of you for years until someone by the moniker jack of the same description made an appearance. cerberus data is just well documented, therefore easier to secure even with tight security. data that is not easy to secure is dat that is not documented, no time or date or description. for instance, if you were looking for a video recording of a small business 20 years ago and can't give me the business or date, it's probably not data i can secure. your last name could be documented, cerberus just didn't care to find out themselves. they only needed your first name to erase who you were so the experiments could be done." liara just pauses because she's not quite sure what why jack is looking for. why the experiment? why jack? @teltinsurvivor
"you had high potential as a child, jack. for biotic abilities. cerberus wants to make the most powerful humans, for their superiority." liara said the why a little quieter because the reason is going to be as unethical and inhumane as cerberus is.
For once, Jack didn't flinch or resort to aggression as another person stepped into her personal space. No, she remained still, feeling the pressure of a gloved hand on her shoulder, though it was a gesture that left her confused in search for its meaning and intention, as well as frozen for a moment. That stillness went on, eyes widening as the asari mentioned erased memories.
No! She couldn't have had her memories erased like some batarian slaver victim. How the fuck would Cerberus..
Swallowing, she averted her brown eyes to look beside the asari. The information about data was barely registered; she had figured that it wouldn't be so easy. But then her attention snapped back to its usual, fully alert state, head perking up and her gaze meeting Liara again.
Full of disappointment, it was.
That look passed from her features as she shook her head, a huff escaping her to mask the sharp pain that flooded her chest. That was it. No deeper meaning. Of course not. There could not be meaning to cruelty.
"Tell me it stopped at me!" Jack insisted, more ferociously than she meant to, given the asari had been surprisingly.. kind. It was almost scary. Why would she help her?
Taking a sharp step back, she went on, "I destroyed the facility! I killed every last one of them, everyone but Arash-"
He had slipped under the radar, somehow. But she had destroyed more than the Teltin facility. Could they have continued their experiments?
Her mind flooding with a million questions, she didn't give Liara the time to answer the question before she asked the next. "How.. could they wipe my brain? I-I have been in that damned facility for so long. I never knew my age, no one has ever told me. But I still remember how big that low table looked to me during my earliest memories.. I was brought there when I was really young. I couldn't even jump when they wanted me to! How could I have had memories before that?"
Maybe it was the fact that she could remember something so far back already, that proved that she could remember things further back in childhood than most. Something she had never thought about. Her memory has always been spotty, under the surface.
What was it with people finding her answers funny? It was better than being prissy about it, for sure, but she never understood why honesty made people laugh. Or.. maybe he was ridiculing her. Jackass. Whatever it was, the premise of food while being hungry as hell made her forget about it pretty quickly. She felt like a starved krogan with no back-up stuff in her hump.
As for not intending to kill him? She was on the same page. For now. He'd made it clear he wasn't with Cerberus, but Jack never took anything at face value, and while he seemed oddly genuine to her.. not being with Cerberus didn't mean he wouldn't fuck her over. She'd kill for him.. long enough for her to find out everything she needs from the files. Then, she'll take off.
"I'll take the stairs. Thanks." She insisted. Despite feeling like a starved krogan. Why she was so stubborn about it when she was exhausted, she wasn't sure. Maybe she wanted to be petty and piss him off in minor ways for pissing her off in minor ways. Or.. maybe she just couldn't stand the thought of being in a small space with him, especially when the elevators were like that. And seeing that some volus some had the same plan of taking the elevator, she became even more certain in her decision.
"You know that stupid music that plays in the elevators? It's hell." So following that turian, then. He'd probably happy to have Shepard around.
"Questionable ingredients." Jack huffed. "You don't know what it's like to get food poisoning from a crappy place in the Terminus Systems, do you?" At least the Citadel had strict regulations to the point where shitty flavors and tasteless stews were the worst you could find. "I'm not picky. I had worse than you'd cry about."
Getting moody, here. She really was hungry. "I guess steak and fries would be good." She shrugged.
"Not a fan of awkward elevator conversations?" Aching joints and a general fatigue after their last mission made Shepard sigh at the prospect of having to take the stairs, but splitting up here and regrouping at the lower level also seemed strange so he bit the bullet and followed Jack to the stairway. "Ah, the music." Come to think of it, he'd never questioned the fact that elevator music was apparently a cosmic phenomenon, not just a strange human thing.
The walk down the stairs and to the restaurants was quick but if Jack was going to insist on taking the stairs up on the way back as well, she'd find herself walking alone. Staying fit was necessary and all that, but no force on the Citadel would get Shepard to jog up a flight of stairs after the exorbitant amount of food he was planning on eating once they arrived. Her comment about elevator music replayed in his head, but he refrained from asking what kind of music she did like. Felt like trying too hard; not to mention that she probably didn't get to listen to a lot of music during her confinement and something told him that Jack's patience for stupid questions was at an all-time low.
"Agreed." He wasn't against trying alien food (after making sure it wouldn't kill him) but today was not the day to be adventurous. "Can't say that I have. Alliance's not too happy about their officers venturing out into the Terminus Systems." All things considered, it was a miracle the Normandy never ran into the issue of having to rely on unknown food supplies on their previous trips. They'd had phases of running low or having to eat the same things for a number of days, but it had always thankfully been food made for human consumption.
Steaks and fries always sounded good. "This looks promising," Shepard pointed out, nodding towards a restaurant to their right with a big neon sign promising delicacies from Earth and Palaven. It was busy but still had multiple free tables and Shepard headed for one in the corner without thinking much about it. Always better to sit near a wall, exit in sight. He didn't expect an open attack while on the Citadel, but he knew better than to not prepare for the possibility regardless. Lately the only place he'd felt comfortable with his back to the door was aboard the Normandy.
Swiping on the holographic menu that popped up to hover above the table once they'd sat down, he let out an appreciative hum. "Steak sandwich. It's your lucky day, Jack." She'd been with them for a little while now, meaning she'd been offered food on the ship, but Shepard could only imagine what slop they must have pumped into her during her time on Purgatory. "When's the last time you had a steak?"
"Been a while." Jack retorted. "The Terminus steaks usually tastes kinda crappy, if you're lucky, or it's actual meat that wasn't grown in a lab." Might be a surprising point coming from the mouth of a convict who had killed thousands, but Jack refused to eat anything that was the result of slaughtering an animal. Especially if it was sold on shitty asteroids where no one cared for animal ethics. On the Citadel, though, she didn't have to worry. Regulations were different -- anything that was real murder meat as she called it, was marked as such.
"Yeah, I'll take the steak sandwich. And the biggest portion of fries they got." After all, she was a biotic. "Gotta be you who has to pay, though." She confessed. "The Warden was a real cunt. Took every prisoner's credits."
She would have to rely on her poker skills to gain all that money back so she could actually run off once the time was right.
Having a disdain for smalltalk, and not trusting the Commander further than she could throw him, Jack decided not to add anything further to the conversation besides another cynical remark. "Let's hope their restaurants aren't as slow as their elevators." Seems like they had found a nice spot, though, given the customers. A few families. None of the seedy faces she was used to.
i'm back!!
Your 20s are not about getting your life together they're about learning to escape the self imposed torture labyrinth you've built inside your own head
"I was thinkin' a tasteful tattoo for you. Lower back that says 'Raifer's Bounty'. Letters in a dripping kinda font."
Jack has heard many audacious comments growing up in a shitty place like the Terminus Systems, but this one it to the fucking top list. How arrogant was this prick?! "Jesus fucking Christ. You think that shit is funny? Where did Shepard pick up again?" Eyes widening in a look that made it obvious she wanted to roll her eyes, but couldn't even at this point, she bristled. What the fuck was this merc's angle? Was he messing with her, or trying to hit on her?
"You know what I have been thinking about you?! Maybe you would look better with your fucking teeth out!"
"How long it take ya to get all that ink? Sure seems like plenty there to appreciate."
While Jack always appreciated questions about her ink if they were genuine, she fucking hated it when someone used it to flirt with her. Eyes narrowing at the merc, she scoffed. "If that's a pick-up line, at least think of something better, because it's shitty, and I've heard it dozens of times."
Realizing he truly wanted to know how long it took, she offered an explanation, though her aloof tone didn't soften. "I got my first tattoo around eight years ago, I've been constantly adding new ink since then-- if that's what you mean. If you mean how long it took to get the individual tattoos? Depends. Had some that took the artist over ten hours."
liara t'soni actually used to be a sheltered and anti-social asari, she loved digging in caves with the smallest crew. ALL FOR THE LOVE OF DISCOVERIES AND A FIXATION ON PROTHEANS . an apocalyptic war tends to really bring out all these other things an already book smart individual can be good at. WHAT HAPPENS WHEN SOMEBODY IS BOTH STREET SMART AND BOOK SMART ? on top of the fact she has a human spectre as a best friend━ this actually just helped her understand human quirks and sayings that differentiate greatly from those asari ones.
"no, i prefer recriprocated romance the most, jack." oh, her humor is always so flat, sarcasm dripping like any other word. "in order for me to understand what i stole from the previous shadowbroker, i had to go through files. the shadowbroker has an immensive encyclopedia of the galaxy's knowledge, perhaps too immense and too powerful. i stumbled upon your files and read just enough to know that the person these are referencing would be you. what is in these files belongs to you." for liara's tone usually being flat, this time is was ultimately soft. if she could have kept her personal trauma and family drama a secret, that would have been preferred. UNFORTUNATELY FOR HER , BENEZIA'S DEATH WAS UNTIMELY AND PUBLIC . but if more people knew she was a pureblood, it would not be beneficial.
the cool and collected demeanor is just another form of empathy. LIARA RESERVES A LOT OF THAT . no matter what.
liara takes a step back and it's not because she's particularly frightened, it's simply because jack is slightly shorter and she didn't want any of this to seem condescending. BLUE EYES WERE ALREADY LOOKING DOWN VERY SLIGHTLY . that felt like it needed to be adjusted. "you are known as jack, i had to read enough to know that jennifer was actually you. which means i know why cerberus had you as a project and that's it. i stop reading when i know them personally, but it would be great to understand that i would have to continue reading otherwise. whatever knowledge i can inhale to help us with the reapers and cerberus, i digest." there's just this pause, she doesn't quite know how else to explain that an information broker of her level just needs to do these things within reason. @teltinsurvivor
"i'm sorry if i've offended you. the information is yours."
Brows furrowing, Jack found herself at loss this time when it came to a smartass, quick-witted reply. Was Liara being sarcastic, or serious? She couldn't tell, with the asari's tone, even though her species was so close to hers, they could be hard to read. Before she could say anything, Liara went on, and Jack listened, arms falling flat to her side with her hands just weakly curled to fists. Her answer was undeniably logical, not only that, it sounded damn honest.
"Then tell me what the fuck you read. I want to know." She needed to know. Jack needed to know what edge the asari had on her, what weak points she knew. She wasn't going to be able to get any sleep without getting the answers.
Just enough to get an idea of who she is? That's what it soundeed like, but damn it, these were Shadow Broker files, who knows how much valuable info they could hold. Liara even knew her real name, something Jack never had the faintest clue about, since she couldn't even remember if she's ever had any parents.
Pausing for a moment, contemplating what to say, it finally dawned upon her that the asari had just said she knew why Cerberus had her as a project. Unable to keep her restraint, Jack demanded, "If the information is mine, tell me why Cerberus--"
Feeling as if something was stuck in her throat, she swallowed before she went on, "Why?!"
No need to ever say these ugly words Jack knew could make her feel dizzy by just saying them.
🙶Nope. Never gotten a tattoo removed in my life ― not voluntarily, at least. If we’d met two years ago, I would’ve had so many old and embarrassing ones to show you.🙷
Not that she’d been embarrassed by any of them, not even the silly first boyfriend initials. Jack’s not entirely wrong ― it had ended messy, they’d been teenagers ― but in her adulthood, the memories were mostly fond. 🙶Cerberus,🙷 she offers, as way of explanation, before Jack can ask. 🙶I mean, yeah, he was a dumbass, and so was I, getting anyone’s name permanently on my body, but not in the way you’re thinking. We were just very, very young. Cerberus... wasn’t really super focused on the aesthetics, when they brought me back. New skin. None of the old scars.🙷 She keeps her tone light; she’s here to relate, not to unload. The truth is, Wren feels like a stranger to herself, without her old scars. It’s less the tattoos ― she used to have a good handful, mostly not visible in everyday clothing, most of them without any special meaning. But her scars... ones she could place, like the one through her eyebrow from her special forces training, all of them, gone. She’s sure Miranda would just tell her to be grateful.
🙶Cerberus wipes off people's tattoos now?🙷, the convict asked, an incredulous scoff escaping her lips. 🙶These motherfuckers have always been vile. They would do anything to strip you off your identity.🙷 She didn't bother to hide her disdain for the organization. Or well, anyone. Whether she is on their ship or not, she doesn't give a damn about being polite. If Shepard hasn't realized how messed up Cerberus truly is, she will, sooner or later.
🙶That's just the beginning of it, though.🙷 A frown beset her features upon hearing the words 'brought back'. What did Shepard mean? She's been trying to dig up whatever info she could about the Commander on the extranet, but damn, it was full of shit and fake info.
🙶You mean to say you were actually dead, and it isn't just one of the many extranet rumors about you?🙷
As cold as her tone was -- in a way Jack was disturbed, more so than she would ever show. Where most people feared death, Jack never thought of eternal sleep, devoid of any pain or ugly feelings, as something to fear. She couldn't imagine anything worse than having what was ought to be ultimate peace disturbed by Cerberus however, waking up on one of their operation tables after kicking the bucket. What was supposed to irreversible, reversed, only for the sake of their experiments, their morally wicked objectives.
They fucking played God now. The kind of control they had over Shepard. Jack didn't want to think about it too much, or she'd throw up.
🙶If you feel like getting new ink, I know a couple good places. In case you feel like new scars too, we can always hit up a Blue Suns base and take out some assholes.🙷 She offered, surprised at her own cameraderie. 🙶What kind of ink did you have?🙷
"Fine. Whatever." Jack shrugged, brows raising as he mentioned wanting to be lifted up. Sometimes, she forgot that for people who weren't in the battlefield, biotics were something borderline mythological. Kinda like it had been for the girl gang that had picked her up when she was starting out. She was surprised he saw it as some kind of party trick, though, when she could use it to kill him. Not that she didn't appreciate the change from being considered some psycho witch, but he really did have one screw loose.
Recruitment requirement to be on the Normandy, she figured.
A frown etched into her features watching him smile like one of these kids opening their gifts in Christmas movies. What was this man's angle?
She reconsidered going with him until the mention of snacks. No one could argue that what the Normandy had at the moment was barely edible. Or maybe she had just been longing for something real nice and greasy after all that confinement, and military rations didn't cut it anymore.
Not wasting any time, Jack made her way to the cargo hold.
As soon as he'd return, the holographic Tetris screen would disappear upon Jack closing her omnitool, her arm shooting up as a biotic field surrounded the shuttle pilot.
"Surprise motherfucker!" She yelled over with a smile of mischief, slowly lifting him up. This was probably a shitty idea - he might scream and complain to the Commander, but hey, he'd asked, and Jack was bored out of her mind.
Thrusters? Check. Hull integrity? Good. Controls? Responsive. Oxygen? Full. Spare weapons and munitions? Secure. Snacks. Varied and within reach.
As Owen ticked off the final few sections of his pre-flight checks, he could feel the thrill of the flight starting to build in his chest. He may not be a fan of the shuttle - he may miss the feeling of being part of his fighter - but adrenaline before take-off was a constant. Being a marine had been fun, but nothing matched that stomach-dropping rush that filled the gap between gravity vanishing and weightlessness taking over. That moment when he - a human - flies. It never got old; he hoped it never would.
By the time he returned from clearing the run-out with Shepard - 'I won't be long: just want to check a couple repairs. I'll have it back before the Professor stops talking' - Jack had found her way to the meeting point. As he fastened the collar of his flight-suit and checked the pistol at his thigh, Owen couldn't help but ask: "was that Tetr-woah!"
That feeling he adored rushed through him before his mind could process what was happening. Blue energy surrounded his body and his feet were no longer on the ground. Arms waving and legs flailing, the pilot felt the grin split his face and laughter ripple through his chest. "Ah, ha ha ha! This is incredible." The floor kept getting further away - and maybe he should have been concerned about who had his life in their hands - but he didn't care. Right now he trusted her completely and he was loving life.
"This is fucking awesome, J! Can you make me fly around a bit? Please?"
That smile from Jack's face only widened as she heard the pilot laugh, although it surprised her that he sought adventure so much that he saw fun in someone who most would call a psycho ragdolling him with her mind. Then again, he had signed up for a suicide mission when he could've made a living with the Alliance as well. Jack wondered why; was he just an idiot, or did he have some kind of deeper motivation? Clearly hadn't done it for the money, as he had referred to Cerberus as tossers. Did he know about the shit they were involved in, or was it just common sense?
No time to ask these questions when she had been aching to use her biotics. Maybe later.
"Sure thing." Without hesitating, Jack flipped him around for a front flip. "Don't vomit on the floor." Then backwards.. And forwards -- again, not holding back. Even if he complained after, provoking someone a little was just as much fun.
Sighing, she subtly shook her head. "You're fucking weird. What else do you want, an autograph from me?"
Deciding that she didn't want some smartass answer from him, she quickly changed the topic and lowered him carefully (by her standards). "Now let me fly that shuttle of yours."
Well, at least he wasn't a pussy. He was a bit delusional if he thought letting her fly the shuttle was a good idea, but Jack carried a hint of admiration for his attitude. Enjoy it while it lasts. Fun, if you could enjoy things in the first place. He was lucky in that regard.
She chuckled hearing his perfectly fine reason for letting her fly, a sardonic sound, yet stemming from genuine amusement. Not only was it a sound argument, it was compelling.
"Jesus, you're giving me ideas." Jack spoke, not bothering to hide the truth. "The best thing about being biotic? You can crash a shuttle into someone without kicking the bucket yourself."
Of course, she was joking. Half-joking. Although she was no stranger to what she had just described, she wasn't planning on taking out Lawson by crashing a Cerberus shuttle into her. Although the revolting urge was there, given the emotions that the woman brought to the surface every time Jack looked at her. Maybe she wasn't even more than a snobby bitch Jack could swear she saw right through her. Knew things. And anyone who worked with Cerberus knowing what they did, deserved no mercy.
"Fine, you know what. I'll fly it." Enough with the brooding contemplation. She needed something else to do.
He'd be lying if he didn't admit that the sound of her laughter - terrifying and unexpected as it was - didn't ignite joy within his chest. Seeing people smile, hearing them chuckle, watching a spark appear in their eyes, that was what Owen loved about being alive: the galaxy was a horrible place, he knew that in his own ways, but there was so much beauty in it as well, and everyone - his potential murderer included - deserved to see it at least once.
He didn't need to pry to know Jack had endured horrific things, maybe now - here, on the Normandy - she could get the chance to experience a different side of life. Maybe he could help her see the light instead of the dark.
Or maybe he could just die in a horrible, fiery, biotically charged shuttle crash. Time would tell.
"As wonderful as that sounds, maybe we could just...avoid crashing? At least for the first go out." Pushing off the wall and dusting himself down, he continued. "Besides, I always thought the best thing about being biotic was the ability to lift things. I've always wanted someone with biotics to lift me up: it just seems like it would be really funny. And tingly."
His ever present smile turned to an excited beam when she agreed to come with him. "Ayyy! Glad to hear it. Let me go check it over and get it warmed up. Meet me in the cargo hold in about...five minutes, and we'll go from there."
His bright blue eyes shone in the darkened bay Jack called home as the pilot bounded up the stairs, stopping only to turn and shout, "don't worry about snacks, I've got loads stored away" before disappearing through the doors.
"Fine. Whatever." Jack shrugged, brows raising as he mentioned wanting to be lifted up. Sometimes, she forgot that for people who weren't in the battlefield, biotics were something borderline mythological. Kinda like it had been for the girl gang that had picked her up when she was starting out. She was surprised he saw it as some kind of party trick, though, when she could use it to kill him. Not that she didn't appreciate the change from being considered some psycho witch, but he really did have one screw loose.
Recruitment requirement to be on the Normandy, she figured.
A frown etched into her features watching him smile like one of these kids opening their gifts in Christmas movies. What was this man's angle?
She reconsidered going with him until the mention of snacks. No one could argue that what the Normandy had at the moment was barely edible. Or maybe she had just been longing for something real nice and greasy after all that confinement, and military rations didn't cut it anymore.
Not wasting any time, Jack made her way to the cargo hold.
As soon as he'd return, the holographic Tetris screen would disappear upon Jack closing her omnitool, her arm shooting up as a biotic field surrounded the shuttle pilot.
"Surprise motherfucker!" She yelled over with a smile of mischief, slowly lifting him up. This was probably a shitty idea - he might scream and complain to the Commander, but hey, he'd asked, and Jack was bored out of her mind.
Sometimes "rarepair" means "you are literally the only person who posts about this on tumblr dot com" and you have to learn to be okay with that.
rp wishlist
because i've had "rp wishlist" as a section on my blog for ages and i haven't done anything with it i decided to stop procrastinating on it and look, here's my rp wishlist: (thx jack for calling me out on it)
plotted stuff:
@inominati shepard and jack open up a varren shelter post me3
@iinfiltrator athalia and jack go on a date surfing and jack uses her biotics to surf, this is based on a dream i had
@shepcdr pirating the normandy is no longer a joke between the two
not plotted with anyone, but still on my wishlist:
1. someone helps jack to find her mother either during or post me3, using the shadow broker resources
2. your muse undergoes therapy post-reaper war and surprisingly meets jack in the same psychiatric hospital, followed by a friendship or romance forming
3. for the javik rpers.. if there are any
4. someone taking jack to the beach in general
5. jack's loyalty mission, your muse is her company
6. edi & jack
7. zaeed & jack based off this
@teltinsurvivor
It was supposed to be just another gig for The Normandy. Report in, work on maintenance, get paid, leave. Same as the other times. In the beginning, it was exactly that. As he went down below, he expected to work on pipes and circuits, as well as having the usual witty banter with Jack. As he came face to face with her, however, something came out of her mouth that he didn’t expect. Something that shook him to his core. His name.
Specifically, his TRUE name.
Though Jack usually wouldn't have paid an engineer much mind, this one had set up his bunk near her quarters. As a result, she'd decided to dig her nose into his private information just like she had done with Shepard or the two Cerberus squadmates Taylor and Lawson -- find out anything she can about the quarian through the extranet. She was by no means a professional, but over the years, she's learned that you could find out a fair deal just by looking into open sources.
..And the quarian hadn't exactly made it hard, given how chatty he was. Giving away a lot of information that would serve as perfect entryways for some stalking.
Maybe it wasn't just that she was paranoid. Maybe she had gotten bored, too. The things she found were certainly interesting.
"Hey, Phoenix", Jack casually greeted the quarian as he came over, closing her omnitool. She had been in the middle of a poker game, but this could wait. There weren't many quarians around, so what were the chances another one with a lost arm was running around the galaxy?
Judging by how frozen he stood, the chances seemed to be zero. "Oh, really? Phoenix-boy is you? Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"
Val’s mind ran through tactics for how to approach this troubling situation. Combat was by no means viable for multiple reasons. Lying was out. No doubt she already uncovered more than enough information to refute anything he could think up…Looks like the only option was to come clean and hope for the best. Keelah, this was going to be a long day.
“I’m NOT The Phoenix.” He sighed, turning to begin work on the pipes “Not anymore. Aside from a select few individuals, everyone believes Nebb’Vettel is dead…and, in essence, they are correct. I’d like it to remain correct. Therefore, I’d advise you not to bring what you learned up with anyone. Ever.”
"Whatever. You're not the first aboard with a shady backstory. It's kind of a recruitment requirement, you know? Although I gotta hand it to you, I guess I underestimated you. Thought you were just a grease monkey." Jack shrugged, though she still was curious why he went down that path. She had no clue what life on the Flotilla was life, but she didn't think it usually shaped people into mercs.
"Why merc work, though? You got shot once, you get an infection and die. Seems like a stupid risk."
What are you afraid of, Jack? You act like your anger is a shield that can protect you from anything, but is that really true?
Shit, it had to be a question like that, didn't it have to be?
"Of all of the questions you could've asked me? Why don't you ask something normal when someone's just taken a truth serum, like if they like taking it up the ass or something!" Jack scowled, her arms falling loosely to her sides in a rapid motion before her hands clenched to fists. Feeling as if a knife had been twisted in her chest, she found herself unable to keep her lips pursued, and her breath stopped for a moment.
"It can't protect me from anything. Of course not. But it's kept a whole lot of assholes at bay!" She protested, mind reeling with plans of how she could get back at them for doing this to her. How the fuck could someone dare to invade someone's mind like that? This was some nasty, Cerberus-level shit.
Swallowing, she moved and went on with her back turned as she felt something liquid running down her cheek, "Probably keeps some people out, too, yeah. I know the way I am pisses people off. I know I'm not always this insufferable bitch, and hell, I've had people give a shit about me for whatever reason, but none of them have ever lived until now! Everyone who's ever bothered getting to know me has either not liked how messed up I am.. or.. or they kicked the bucket. I'm cursed-- I always have been. There's your damn answer. I'd rather live alone like I always have, than go through the delusion I could have nice things and lose it again."
Inhaling a ragged breath, she raised a white-knuckled fist. Blue energy surrounding her, she yelped loudly as the wall began to tear from her conjured warp field.
"You'll quickly see that all the men on this station are trash."
laughter accompanies a smile ― hands pushing at the sweater she tries to bury deep into her locker as vivid greens roll aside. "didn't take too long to figure that out," she agrees, closing the metal door with a resounding clang and a sigh. "i'm not here for men anyways ― well," her head tilts, reweighing the thought. gaze lowering to the skin-tight purple concoction of catsuit and lingerie that is her 'uniform'. "not like that."
with a deep breath, hera turns her body to face the other. shaking her hair off her shoulders, so long, silken waves can roll down her back and reveal the golden cleavage exposed through one of the suit's well-placed cutouts. "so, what do you think? good enough for trash?" / @teltinsurvivor
"You damn well know the answer. Show-off." Jack huffed, the brazen annoyance she usually carried in her tone softened by the soft laughter. The other woman was flashing, wasn't she? The truth was, Jack was new to this work, and though she was far from a shy wallflower, it unsettled her more than she could admit. Lurian had convinced her to give it a try, and although she knew it was just another way of selling her body, of working for leering assholes who didn't give a damn, the idea of building something with that asari, while embarrassingly idealistic, was something she yearned for so much she felt it in her bones. Something that made surviving day after day on this shithole station worth something. For as much as it sucked to be dancing for men she'd rather kill, she was finally giving Cerberus a big 'fuck you'.
She could shake her ass now, like a real dancer. No more being trapped because you had no other skill beyond biotics.
But she still didn't have the damn grace that got you so much money in the job, and it nagged at her. And her bald head. Damn, she'd shaved her head so people would keep their distance, and nnow she wanted it back.
"Haven't seen the backside, though. So, who knows?" Jack shrugged with a grin, ever so charming - she'd rather bust someone's balls than to give them a compliment. (Plus, part of her wondered if she'd turn around to fish for a compliment.) "You're asking the wrong girl, anyway. It's not like I know shit about fashion." She admitted, gazing down at her own uniform -- the same standard pink shit all the newcomers wore.
