Fill: Juxtaposed 4b/?
anonymous
October 19 2014, 04:19:10 UTC
He mirrors her smirk with one of his own and leans towards her, the two probably looking like two children thinking up some grand scheme. “There’s a new club named Adventa’s that just opened up on one of the Wards nearby. If you’re up to it we could head over there after this and get there right before the crowd packs the entrance.” He hasn’t gone to Adventa’s yet because, with it being named after the Asari Matron who runs it, it tends to have more Asari and less Turians. Perfectly fine for taking Jane to see the Citadel clubs, but not when he was going with some coworkers for some tension release.
“Are you asking me to an Asari club, Officer Vakarian?” Her smirk comes accompanied by an eyebrow lift this time. “I’m afraid that’s not going to convince me to do a portrait in my other notebook for you.”
The waitress brings sets their plates down as the two share a laugh, leaving to replace Jane’s drink. His Xemna is cooked just right, slightly cooked outside while the interior remains nearly raw, a little reminder of home and the way his mother would serve it. Jane’s food, however, is much less appetizing and his gizzard turns a bit at the look and smell of it.
Rising from her plate like a creature from a horror vid it contains what he assumes are a mix of different colored levo foods. He recognizes some as vegetables by their leafy appearance and the that on the top and under all the components are two ‘rolls,’ a pre-meal food that tends to be preferred by Asari and humans when visiting more expensive dining establishments on the Citadel. Perhaps the waitress had forgotten to bring the rolls to Jane before bringing her meal? If that was the case then why was one under all of her other food? Passing over the strange presence of the pre-meal article of food, he decides it best he doesn’t bring up questions he’d rather not know the answers to, like what exactly the plastic looking orange substance is, and begin on his own meal as she moves to do the same.
Cutting a piece off of the steak of meat and bringing it to his mouth he doesn’t notice Jane pause, hovering her food away from her open mouth, and stare at his Xemna. He pauses and lets the meat lie on his tongue, the juices flowing into his mouth, a low thrum of enjoyment at the taste rumbling from deep in his chest, just like home. He then tilts his head back to let the slice slide down his throat.
It’s when he drops he head back down, taking beer in hand, the pleasures of home-style food and a good beer to help ease away the last of the day’s stress, that his eyes catch Jane, still frozen and gaze glued to his plate.
“Hey,” she places her food back to her plate, untouched, her eyes shifting their focus to his, and motions to his own plate stiffly. “I think you might want to send that back, it looks really rare. Like ‘raw’ kind of rare. Should have warned you there and not froze up and the blue color.”
He chuckles and at that her body eases and relaxes, taking her cue that to him no harm has been done, though most times this type of conversation usually led to some uncomfortable explaining about how even though Turians were the only galactic species who were primarily carnivores, they were just as civilized as any Asari or Salarian. Fearing that Jane may think of him as such, he tries to levity to avoid the topic. “Has no one ever told you Turians like their food a little on the rare side?”
“More like they like their food still breathing and trying to escape their plate.” She picks up her food and it’s then that Garrus sees the size difference between her food and her seemingly small mouth. Her hands barely seem to be holding the entire stack, from top roll to bottom, of food and from his position it looks like it eclipses her entire face when she goes to bring it up to her mouth. “Now this is a Cheeseburger!” she exclaims to no one in particular and with some space magic her mouth opens wide and takes a bite. A huge smile crosses her face and her eyes close in bliss as she chews and Garrus can faintly hear what sounds like her own hum of satisfaction.
Fill: Juxtaposed 4c/?
anonymous
October 19 2014, 04:19:56 UTC
Despite her remarkable feat Garrus can’t help but flare his own mandibles out into a wide smile of his own and respond with a soft thrum of his own at the sight. He had used his subharmonics unintentionally yesterday when he had teased her, and the noise had seemed to make her anxious, but today, if she heard the noise, she didn’t tense up. Instead, creases formed around the corners of her eyes as her smile widen to lift her cheeks and her eyes shined with happiness.
As he returned to his food she spoke, her genuine and childlike curiosity filling her eyes and playing within the muscles of her smile. “So, Turians like to eat meat raw? Is it a preference thing on taste, or is it healthier? Is that difficult to keep meat fresh? Does cooking it ruin it so it’d have to get thrown out? Does that mean Turians don’t know how to cook?-”
“Ok, ok, easy, one at a time” he throws his hands in surrender and chuckles. “I’m the cop here remember? No need to interrogate me.” Feeling the need to stop her so he could get the chance to even begin to answer, and to give her a chance to catch a breath, he decides to give her a simple answer first that might be able to answer quite a bit of her questions. She settles back into her seat, cutting pieces of her food into smaller sections so her attention can be more on him.
He relaxes back as well, taking a bite of Xemna, then a drink before beginning. “The raw meat thing is actually not that common outside of Palaven and other Turian colonies that can sustain livestock. I was lucky in that I found this place awhile back and they’re quite popular among Turians living on the Citadel because it’s really expensive to ship meats from planetside and most businesses don’t want to pay that price or charge customers the higher prices to cover the expense.
“The meat of Palaven’s native food sources doesn’t freeze well, for some reason it causes the meat to chemically break down or something, making the meat inedible if it were to be served raw, so that’s where cooked food comes in. It tastes different, but it’s not horrible. Raw, or slightly cooked like I have,” and at that he takes another bite, “I heard is healthier but not by a whole lot, usually it comes down to a preference and an availability thing. In fact, I served with a guy who preferred his food charred and couldn’t stand any sign of blood. I think I’ve heard the saying ‘to each his own’?”
She nods absently in agreement and he can tell she is mulling all that he has told her. She stays quiet as the two continue their meal for a bit longer and he almost thinks that’s the end of the conversation. He’s starting to regret having told her as much and wonders what she may be thinking about him, would she think he was an animal like many others he’s explained this to, when she speaks again. “So what’s your preference?”
He starts, raising his attention from prodding at what was left of his Xemna to look straight into her eyes and their childlike wonder and something else he can’t place. “My preference?”
“Do you like your meal to be able to beg for mercy or would you prefer a brick of charcoal on your plate?” And it’s then, when she smirks that the emotion he couldn’t put a name to that lay in her eyes becomes clear, Jane understands. She doesn’t want him to explain why he is the way he is and, thinking about it, he realizes how foolish it is for him to feel the need to defend something that’s perfectly natural for his people. With just one joke and a quirk of her lips, she has made him grasp that and though they are both different it doesn’t mean anything, neither one of them is better than the other.
It’s that revelation that lifts his mandible into a matching smirk as he finished off his beer and responds, “it’s never any fun if they don’t put up a fight” and neither one of them can hold back the laughter that quickly leads to an all-out guffaw that has passersby and fellow diners staring and neither he nor Jane could care less.
A!A Juxtaposed
anonymous
October 19 2014, 04:27:08 UTC
A!A here, I'm glad that so far it is enjoyable. I currently aiming to get one, maybe two, chapters posted a day.
This is my first FanFiction of any kind and I don't have a beta so I guess I'm a bit surprised to see it going so well. Thank you OP and others for letting me know you like it so far.
“Are you asking me to an Asari club, Officer Vakarian?” Her smirk comes accompanied by an eyebrow lift this time. “I’m afraid that’s not going to convince me to do a portrait in my other notebook for you.”
The waitress brings sets their plates down as the two share a laugh, leaving to replace Jane’s drink. His Xemna is cooked just right, slightly cooked outside while the interior remains nearly raw, a little reminder of home and the way his mother would serve it. Jane’s food, however, is much less appetizing and his gizzard turns a bit at the look and smell of it.
Rising from her plate like a creature from a horror vid it contains what he assumes are a mix of different colored levo foods. He recognizes some as vegetables by their leafy appearance and the that on the top and under all the components are two ‘rolls,’ a pre-meal food that tends to be preferred by Asari and humans when visiting more expensive dining establishments on the Citadel. Perhaps the waitress had forgotten to bring the rolls to Jane before bringing her meal? If that was the case then why was one under all of her other food? Passing over the strange presence of the pre-meal article of food, he decides it best he doesn’t bring up questions he’d rather not know the answers to, like what exactly the plastic looking orange substance is, and begin on his own meal as she moves to do the same.
Cutting a piece off of the steak of meat and bringing it to his mouth he doesn’t notice Jane pause, hovering her food away from her open mouth, and stare at his Xemna. He pauses and lets the meat lie on his tongue, the juices flowing into his mouth, a low thrum of enjoyment at the taste rumbling from deep in his chest, just like home. He then tilts his head back to let the slice slide down his throat.
It’s when he drops he head back down, taking beer in hand, the pleasures of home-style food and a good beer to help ease away the last of the day’s stress, that his eyes catch Jane, still frozen and gaze glued to his plate.
“Hey,” she places her food back to her plate, untouched, her eyes shifting their focus to his, and motions to his own plate stiffly. “I think you might want to send that back, it looks really rare. Like ‘raw’ kind of rare. Should have warned you there and not froze up and the blue color.”
He chuckles and at that her body eases and relaxes, taking her cue that to him no harm has been done, though most times this type of conversation usually led to some uncomfortable explaining about how even though Turians were the only galactic species who were primarily carnivores, they were just as civilized as any Asari or Salarian. Fearing that Jane may think of him as such, he tries to levity to avoid the topic. “Has no one ever told you Turians like their food a little on the rare side?”
“More like they like their food still breathing and trying to escape their plate.” She picks up her food and it’s then that Garrus sees the size difference between her food and her seemingly small mouth. Her hands barely seem to be holding the entire stack, from top roll to bottom, of food and from his position it looks like it eclipses her entire face when she goes to bring it up to her mouth. “Now this is a Cheeseburger!” she exclaims to no one in particular and with some space magic her mouth opens wide and takes a bite. A huge smile crosses her face and her eyes close in bliss as she chews and Garrus can faintly hear what sounds like her own hum of satisfaction.
Reply
As he returned to his food she spoke, her genuine and childlike curiosity filling her eyes and playing within the muscles of her smile. “So, Turians like to eat meat raw? Is it a preference thing on taste, or is it healthier? Is that difficult to keep meat fresh? Does cooking it ruin it so it’d have to get thrown out? Does that mean Turians don’t know how to cook?-”
“Ok, ok, easy, one at a time” he throws his hands in surrender and chuckles. “I’m the cop here remember? No need to interrogate me.” Feeling the need to stop her so he could get the chance to even begin to answer, and to give her a chance to catch a breath, he decides to give her a simple answer first that might be able to answer quite a bit of her questions. She settles back into her seat, cutting pieces of her food into smaller sections so her attention can be more on him.
He relaxes back as well, taking a bite of Xemna, then a drink before beginning. “The raw meat thing is actually not that common outside of Palaven and other Turian colonies that can sustain livestock. I was lucky in that I found this place awhile back and they’re quite popular among Turians living on the Citadel because it’s really expensive to ship meats from planetside and most businesses don’t want to pay that price or charge customers the higher prices to cover the expense.
“The meat of Palaven’s native food sources doesn’t freeze well, for some reason it causes the meat to chemically break down or something, making the meat inedible if it were to be served raw, so that’s where cooked food comes in. It tastes different, but it’s not horrible. Raw, or slightly cooked like I have,” and at that he takes another bite, “I heard is healthier but not by a whole lot, usually it comes down to a preference and an availability thing. In fact, I served with a guy who preferred his food charred and couldn’t stand any sign of blood. I think I’ve heard the saying ‘to each his own’?”
She nods absently in agreement and he can tell she is mulling all that he has told her. She stays quiet as the two continue their meal for a bit longer and he almost thinks that’s the end of the conversation. He’s starting to regret having told her as much and wonders what she may be thinking about him, would she think he was an animal like many others he’s explained this to, when she speaks again. “So what’s your preference?”
He starts, raising his attention from prodding at what was left of his Xemna to look straight into her eyes and their childlike wonder and something else he can’t place. “My preference?”
“Do you like your meal to be able to beg for mercy or would you prefer a brick of charcoal on your plate?” And it’s then, when she smirks that the emotion he couldn’t put a name to that lay in her eyes becomes clear, Jane understands. She doesn’t want him to explain why he is the way he is and, thinking about it, he realizes how foolish it is for him to feel the need to defend something that’s perfectly natural for his people. With just one joke and a quirk of her lips, she has made him grasp that and though they are both different it doesn’t mean anything, neither one of them is better than the other.
It’s that revelation that lifts his mandible into a matching smirk as he finished off his beer and responds, “it’s never any fun if they don’t put up a fight” and neither one of them can hold back the laughter that quickly leads to an all-out guffaw that has passersby and fellow diners staring and neither he nor Jane could care less.
Reply
This is my first FanFiction of any kind and I don't have a beta so I guess I'm a bit surprised to see it going so well. Thank you OP and others for letting me know you like it so far.
Reply
Leave a comment