Re: Of Ryncol and Turians 2
anonymous
September 30 2014, 23:43:39 UTC
Despite some stereotypes, it wasn’t often you saw a drunken Krogan. His race’s bodies simply processed toxins too fast to let them build up to the levels that would lead to complete loss of stability, but after some time drinking Grunt was feeling the effects. Even if Krogan acted up it was in the spirit of the party, not because they’d lost control of their faculties. Turians though, Turians got drunk, he’d seen it. He’d watched an intoxicated Garrus stumbling off the dance floor, half wrapped around the white plated male he’d been dancing with. He’d seen him show up the next day, disheveled and tired looking, with a sappy smile and his breath stinking of alcohol and other, fleshy scents he wasn’t familiar with but could guess easily enough. Turians got very drunk and seemed to enjoy it. For a moment he was weak and wished he could drink all his thoughts and worries away and be happy for a moment. Or if not happy then at least at peace, and free from the images of blue painted Turians that danced before his eyes.
“You’ve been drinking alone for over an hour.” A multi toned voice said behind him. Garrus? Was the first thought that popped into his head. He turned in place, seeing another Turian standing there, this one was more orange in color, with swirling black paint.
“Why do you care?” He grumbled, turning back to the bar and tossing back the rest of this glass, sending it over for another. He didn’t care how much he drank, Shepard had practically limitless funding these days.
“Just saw you sitting here, looking lonely and miserable and watching the dance floor.” His companion said, ordering a much smaller drink for himself. “At first I thought you were waiting on someone, but nobody showed up after a while, so I thought I might come say hello.”
Grunt turned slightly, looking him over with a single critical eye. “If you’re looking for someone easy go find an Asari.” He grumbled, grabbing his next drink quickly.
The Turian shook his head, sipping his purple, fruity smelling drink slowly. “Hey, relax, I just don’t like seeing people looking so lonesome. If you want me to leave then I’ll go, but I’d hate to see you just sit and stew here all night.”
Grunt looked him over again, everything about this Turian was different from Garrus, some ways more than others. A little bit slimmer, Grunt found muscle more attractive. His plate color and paint made for an interesting combination, black swirls on orange, the Krogan preferred the more complimentary grey and blue. He was about to send the male away when he saw that their eyes were practically the same color. “You can stay.” He said in a low growl, taking another shot. The Turian smiled happily, sipping his juice-thing through a straw.
Re: Of Ryncol and Turians 4
anonymous
October 1 2014, 20:13:10 UTC
They sat in only mildly uncomfortable silence for a bit, Grunt content to keep slugging Ryncol while his drinking companion sipped whatever it was he was drinking. The moment stretched until the Turian decided to speak up. “So, is there any specific reason you’re here tonight? I have some experience in these matters and you drink like someone who’s got a problem they don’t want to remember.”
Grunt shrugged, his deep growl of a voice sounding slightly more glum than usual. “It’s not important, just thinking some things through.”
The Turian thought about it. “Well, it is important, clearly you’re worked up about something. I mean if you want to stew all on your lonesome that’s fine, but if you wanted to talk about it…” He let the offer hang.
Grunt considered for a good long time, swirling Ryncol around in his glass. “There’s… this guy.” He began haltingly.
A light flared in the Turian’s eyes, the male leaning in a little and resting his chin on his hand. “Tell me more.”
“Turian.” He grunted, taking another shot. “On my team, fight together. I… I’m having…” He took another shot.
“Having… feelings for him?” his companion asked. “Feelings of… attraction?”
Grunt stared into his drink for a while, it was a hard question. He had been trying to process these feelings for a while but hadn’t actually gone so far as to give name to them, or define them as a certain type of emotion or urge. Was he attracted to Garrus? He didn’t know really, he’d never been attracted to anyone before. Oh yes he’d mated, good looking and eager females had approached him, and he had bedded them. But in the morning he felt little to nothing for them beyond some gratitude that they had let him have a fun night, beyond that… not much really. “Maybe. Don’t know really.” He said, going to take a shot but setting the glass back down again.
Re: Of Ryncol and Turians 4
anonymous
October 19 2014, 07:07:33 UTC
I'd never have thought I'd read a Grunt/Garrus fic. And like it so much! I also really like your wry writing style, it fits the characters and the situation without turning the story into a parody. Thanks for writing this.
“You’ve been drinking alone for over an hour.” A multi toned voice said behind him. Garrus? Was the first thought that popped into his head. He turned in place, seeing another Turian standing there, this one was more orange in color, with swirling black paint.
“Why do you care?” He grumbled, turning back to the bar and tossing back the rest of this glass, sending it over for another. He didn’t care how much he drank, Shepard had practically limitless funding these days.
“Just saw you sitting here, looking lonely and miserable and watching the dance floor.” His companion said, ordering a much smaller drink for himself. “At first I thought you were waiting on someone, but nobody showed up after a while, so I thought I might come say hello.”
Grunt turned slightly, looking him over with a single critical eye. “If you’re looking for someone easy go find an Asari.” He grumbled, grabbing his next drink quickly.
The Turian shook his head, sipping his purple, fruity smelling drink slowly. “Hey, relax, I just don’t like seeing people looking so lonesome. If you want me to leave then I’ll go, but I’d hate to see you just sit and stew here all night.”
Grunt looked him over again, everything about this Turian was different from Garrus, some ways more than others. A little bit slimmer, Grunt found muscle more attractive. His plate color and paint made for an interesting combination, black swirls on orange, the Krogan preferred the more complimentary grey and blue. He was about to send the male away when he saw that their eyes were practically the same color. “You can stay.” He said in a low growl, taking another shot. The Turian smiled happily, sipping his juice-thing through a straw.
Reply
Grunt shrugged, his deep growl of a voice sounding slightly more glum than usual. “It’s not important, just thinking some things through.”
The Turian thought about it. “Well, it is important, clearly you’re worked up about something. I mean if you want to stew all on your lonesome that’s fine, but if you wanted to talk about it…” He let the offer hang.
Grunt considered for a good long time, swirling Ryncol around in his glass. “There’s… this guy.” He began haltingly.
A light flared in the Turian’s eyes, the male leaning in a little and resting his chin on his hand. “Tell me more.”
“Turian.” He grunted, taking another shot. “On my team, fight together. I… I’m having…” He took another shot.
“Having… feelings for him?” his companion asked. “Feelings of… attraction?”
Grunt stared into his drink for a while, it was a hard question. He had been trying to process these feelings for a while but hadn’t actually gone so far as to give name to them, or define them as a certain type of emotion or urge. Was he attracted to Garrus? He didn’t know really, he’d never been attracted to anyone before. Oh yes he’d mated, good looking and eager females had approached him, and he had bedded them. But in the morning he felt little to nothing for them beyond some gratitude that they had let him have a fun night, beyond that… not much really. “Maybe. Don’t know really.” He said, going to take a shot but setting the glass back down again.
Reply
Reply
Thanks for writing this.
Reply
Leave a comment