Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 3
anonymous
March 30 2015, 11:34:25 UTC
It was a little awkward after that, mostly on Terrence's part. That he could admit. Eventually, the turian turned back to face the front though he was a lot more relaxed now. Nowhere near as statue still as he'd been for his father's speech.
If he were human, Terrence would assume he was zoning Hackett out.
He really was a daddy's boy.
The turi- Tarquin. He had a name, right.
What did you say to a turian?
Terrence didn't have a fucking clue. Asking questions about military life might end up with him having to reciprocate. Being honest about his background on the Tokyo had went so well.
So... how do you keep your teeth so sharp? Blowjobs are definitely a no-no with that mouth. He almost felt sorry for turians.
Almost.
What's it like having three fingers? Handjobs must be pretty shitty with a three fingered hand. Terrence couldn't help but picture himself masturbating with just a thumb and two fingers and had to hold in a chuckle. That would take a long time to go anywhere, if it even did anything.
And now his mind was wondering about turian masturbatory habits. Fuck.
Hackett was droning on about interspecies unity and human perseverance. It was all very Disney.
Yawn.
Terrence discreetly opened his omnitool, probably the best thing that joining the military had resulted in. If his biotics weren't so naturally strong (he was going to get an amp fitted once he'd acquired the required emotional control) he'd have liked to have become a Sentinel rather than an Adept. The idea of using his omnitool as a weapon, instead of a time-killer, almost made him feel giddy.
Hmm... what to do?...
Of course. Hopefully the turian would be interested in playing, it'd be nice to play Civilization multiplayer.
It'd probably appeal to him. Turians lived and breathed military and strategy games, even he knew that. The Reds (himself included) had found it highly ironic that the most popular vintage human vid amongst turians was Saving Private Ryan.
Terrence set up the game before dimming the brightness on the emerging holographical screen representing the game.
He slowly edged his wrist towards the arm-rest separating their seats. Discreetly, of course. As far as the surrounding audience were concerned he was eagerly watching Hackett bore everyone to tears.
A whispered flanging voice met him before he could even ask, before he could look up at him.
"You can't be serious."
A smirk crossed his face as he whispered back.
"It's a civilization building strategy game. Me and you versus 8 AI. You game?"
Tarquin looked at the holographical representation in consideration. He seemed tempted.
How do you lure a turian into playing a strategy game?
"You can build your little military and enslave the AI if you want. Think of the AI as Krogan. Unfortunately there's no Genophage but orbital bombardment is an option. Maybe you can think of them as slavers if that helps. Hell, I'll support you whilst I buy out all the city states. They're like... err.. volus. Yeah, volus."
Tarquin looked scandalized, almost recoiling but his mandibles were slightly lifted. A scandalized smile?
Good enough. At least he wasn't showing his teeth, he might just recoil in turn.
"I can send you the game and there's several translations into other species languages so you should be okay. It's pretty popular with turians already."
That was an educated guess, Terrence had no fucking clue.
Tarquin quietly laughed and it wasn't such a bad sound, surprisingly.
"Alright, why not? There's no need to send me a copy, I'm relatively fluent in English. It is in English, right?"
Terrence was gobsmacked. Why the fuck did he know English?
Tarquin seemed to anticipate his surprise as he went on to explain.
"I don't know what you know about turian military history, but it's generally common for large squads to have a record-keeper. It's been a cultural expectation for them to be multilingual from pre-spaceflight times. I'm fluent in Primus Lingua, turian common, Siarin, the asari higher dialect and English. I'm currently learning Haestus, a dead turian language."
Terrence absently nodded, still shocked, and placed his wrist on the armrest before shaking it in Tarquin's direction.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 4
anonymous
March 31 2015, 10:17:54 UTC
Terrence had ended up sending a copy of the game to Tarquin anyway. It'd be easier to maintain their ruse, as transparent as it was, by communicating in the game rather than whispering to each other.
Terrence thought it was kind of convenient that their starting locations were pretty much next to each other. It'd be a shame for Tarquin to get wiped out in the first 50 turns to warmongers like the Huns or Mongolia who spiked early in the game.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: So, Terrence. Can you please tell me how you thought a middle aged pale skinned human in a gaudy white robe would prove relatable to me?
Tarquin was doing pretty well, or maybe this game was intuitive to turians. He'd rushed settlers to get the rest of Italy and had taken most of Greece. He was lucky that only France and Sweden were local to them so he could expand without fear of any major repercussions. As long as he maintained his military in proportion to the size of his empire.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: You look amazingly alike of course. But seriously, turians and the Romans have a lot of cultural similarities. Both of you are renowned for your military discipline, hierarchy-based society, you both call parts of your military legions and your names, or their translations, are really similar, if not identical to Roman names.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Really? What about my name?
Terrence quickly opened another holo window and searched his name.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: One second, checking the extranet.
He couldn't help but smirk at Superbus.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Lucius Tarquinius Superbus was the legendary seventh and final king of Rome, reigning from 535 BC until the popular uprising in 509 that led to the establishment of the Roman Republic.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice:
Noun
vīctus m (genitive victūs); fourth declension
living, way of life nourishment, provision, diet, that which sustains life
Of course his name was pretentiously impressive.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Interesting. You'll be interested to know that in turian common, Terrence is close to a word that translates to sly or cunning. Shepard is gibberish though. What does your name mean to a human?
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Name meanings have died away for humans really. Parents generally pick what is common in their culture, or what they like. Let me check the extranet again.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: That's largely different from turians. Whilst we are culturally aware of our names, it is common to pick a name that has good meaning and bodes well for a fledgling's future.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Fledgling? And you said you're rather fluent in English, it seems perfect to me.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I'm honoured you think so, and a fledgling is a turian child below the age of 8. We take longer to mature physically as children than humans. Turian children are... small.
(Terrence Shepard): Well from the extranet, it has two main meanings. In Gaelic it means from the knolls and in Latin, the language of the Romans, it means smooth. Then the contemporary meaning in English is tender. A shepherd, note the spelling, is someone who herds sheep, they're a type of livestock.
Tarquin slightly shook beside him as he held his face in his free hand to muffle his mirth. Terrence found himself fighting to stop himself from smiling, his laughter was slightly infectious.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Stop laughing.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I'm sorry, but your name means from the small hills? And smooth? Sounds more like a name to be given to a pet. Don't even get me started on the tender part or the livestock rearing.
Terrence was surprised that he wasn't angry at him for pretty much insulting his name. Tarquin was growing on him fast.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Not all of us can have the name of kings.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 5
anonymous
March 31 2015, 10:18:39 UTC
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Well, it's a lot more mundane on my side. Though I am flattered that humans would think so highly of me based on only my name. My name, Tarquin, is an old Primus Lingua word which means steadfast or resolute. Victus is a corruption of a Haestus word for conquest.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: How... turian for your name to mean steadfast conquest. Is war the only thing on turian minds?
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: How... human for your name to mean the smooth, tender sheep herder from the hills. Is making sense ever an option in human minds?
Terrence couldn't help but snigger into his own hand. They were like a pair of teenagers just cracking shitty jokes in the back of a classroom.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Touché.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Indeed. Maybe we should get back to playing, I just got my unique unit: the Legion (which is exactly what we call our human Marine analogue, the resemblances are uncanny when you look past the squishiness). I can build roads and forts with it, interesting. Seems the Romans have the same focus on infrastructure as early, and contemporary, turians do. I can focus my workers on improving all the wine I have now. How's it going in Venice?
Tarquin was a natural. Able to pick past all the tooltips and numbers to the strategical use of each unit and building.
Not as good as himself, but Terrence could see he was pretty damn good for a beginner. They were playing on the 3rd highest difficulty as well.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Good. I'm about to get the Hanging Gardens of Babylon so my capital will grow faster. It provides a boost to food and great person production which will help when I need to start churning out Merchants of Venice. When we reach the Medieval Era I'll get my first Merchant of Venice and be able to buy out city states. I'll be getting Valetta to the south. Also, you might want to be careful as France might declare war on you (and by extension me and my one city which is my capital!) soon for expanding so close to Paris, his capital. France's military is rather formidable at the moment.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I was wondering why you weren't making any settlers until I checked the Civilopedia (the ingame encyclopedia is pretty nice) and saw that Venice can't produce settlers and can only control city states. Napoleon, I hope I spelt that right, has been sending me messages telling me to stop settling lands he sees as his.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo: And you ignored him?
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I plan on taking his capital. He has lots of wine in his borders. My citizens like wine.
He had the feeling that Tarquin was smirking as he read his reply. He would in his position.
And then Tarquin declared war on France. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Terrence had planned on using Tarquin's huge military as a shield to prevent declarations being made against him as the AI tended to prey on the weak. Tarquin wasn't the one who shared a border with France, he'd been expanding to the east towards Belgrade (the city state he planned on taking after Valetta). Terrence had a grand total of 3 composite bowman and 2 spearmen to Tarquin's 6 ballista, 8 composite bowmen, 4 spearmen and 9 legions. He couldn't imagine what France had as they were number one on the demographics for military.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: God forgive me for creating a monster.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Spirits help Napoleon when I take all his wine for my own. He has 5 cities so I'll start with the one most local to me, Troyes.
And Tarquin proceeded to steamroll the French, only losing 3 legions and a ballista. Terrence was just flabbergasted as Tarquin took Paris 30 turns later.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 6
anonymous
March 31 2015, 10:20:06 UTC
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: If you're awed by my lack of losses, just know that pillaging is such a strong option for healing. Just in time for us to research Machinery; hello crossbowmen. These medieval human weapons are interesting. Longswords, pikes, crossbows and trebuchets. Bladed weapons weren't as popular in comparison to mauls and maces in turian history. Turians are more susceptible to focussed concussive blows compared to punctures. It's also why turians generally spurned projectile weaponry in earlier times before guns, of course. Only the wealthiest clans used projectile weaponry as the materials required to pierce through our plating were better served as fortifications and were popular among the wealthy, for sculpture. Siege weapons were used a lot. I can see your disbelief, Terrence. Believe it or not, turians are susceptible to vanity as well and sculpture was a very popular art form back then. Speaking of art, the French had the Parthenon and the Notre Dame in their Capital. I appreciate their tribute to my rapidly growing war machine. Nice gold per turn by the way. You can send some of that to fund my next military campaign, Sweden is looking pretty appealing. My citizens want whales, and they have whales.
Terrence would puppet a city state far to the east. Kathmandu or Singapore most likely. Tarquin may not be able to declare war on him as they were on the same team, but he'd feel safer there.
Much safer.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: When we get Banking I'll send you some.
Then Tarquin, and by extension him, met Britain who'd apparently beaten Tarquin to Sweden as she now had them on the ropes. Stockholm was in the red and Tarquin was nowhere near to steal the capture.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Spirits... The British are relentless with their naval invasion. Look at all those galleasses. It's time for me to diversify my army.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: You need to do that before she reaches Navigation or we might be screwed. With the combination of her longbowmen (they have a 3 tile range) and ship of the line (most powerful ranged naval unit of the Renaissance Era) you'll be stymied until maybe the Industrial Era. I'm going to build some great galleasses and then we're going to declare war on England.
Tarquin disagreed and declared immediately. God help them both.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: You need to be decisive when it comes to warfare, Terrence. Most of her fleet is concentrated in Northern Europe (this game has proven to be a great crash course on Earthen geography) so we can just sneak in and attack her exposed cities. Send me some gold and I'll purchase galleasses in all my coastal cities. I just need 300 more to buy 4.
Then there was a round of applause as Hackett finally stepped off of the podium. About time. Terrence was about to send off the gold when a loud cough near his left ear distracted him and he looked up. It was Anderson, shit. He stood up frantically, the holographical representation of the game betraying him by brightly glowing on his wrist as he saluted.
"Captain Anderson, sir."
Anderson looked amused, a wry smile on his lips as he looked between the two of them. Tarquin had briefly looked up before going back to the game, his head bent intently over his wrist as he flicked through the encyclopedia on longbowmen and ships of the line.
A potential addict. Terrence corrupting turians into human strategy games. Oh yes.
"At ease. I noticed how much you enjoyed the speeches, Terrence."
Terrence smiled back and it was genuine. He liked Anderson.
"I did, I especially liked Admiral Hackett's speech on unity and... perseverance. General Victus's was good I suppose."
Tarquin faintly mumbled into his wrist behind them.
"Excellent actually."
Anderson laughed, a humouring smile crossing his face as he turned back to face Terrence and spoke.
"So you managed to catch the first fifteen minutes of his ninety minute speech. I suppose that's better than most, I saw an asari fall asleep in the first five."
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 7
anonymous
March 31 2015, 10:21:08 UTC
Anderson shook his head in response to him still calling him sir. Anderson had done a lot for him so Terrence thought it was only right to maintain the proper respect when speaking to him.
"We're back on duty at 07:00 Citadel Standard, so report to the ship then."
Terrence quickly checked his omnitool, it was 15:32 CST. Plenty of time.
"Understood, Captain."
Anderson gave him a significant look and briefly looked at Tarquin.
Terrence understood that he was approving of their.. acquaintance? He wouldn't say they were friends.
Anderson departed with a final nod and walked towards the Admiral who was talking to a turian in black armour with red trim and lots of sigils. Probably a general.
He took his seat again and looked at Tarquin.
"I'm surprised that a horde of turians didn't descend on you to berate you."
Tarquin smiled, though this time his mandibles were slightly quirked revealing his teeth. Terrence did his best not to flinch and failed. Tarquin noticed, his smile fading, and a neutral expression coming across his face as he closed the game.
"I acquired exemption from duty for this week so I could see my father's speech. As I came alone and I wasn't disturbing anybody, there was no reason for them to be angry with me. We are a lot more reasonable than you seem to think we are."
Terrence didn't know what to say to that.
Tarquin looked solemn now.
"I have a question I'd like to ask."
Terrence nodded and Tarquin's voice was hushed.
"Are you afraid of just turians, or non-humans in general?"
Heat rushed to Terrence's cheeks and he couldn't help the tightening of his jaw. If he wasn't his colour, a mahogany brown, his blush would likely have given away his embarrassment. It was only because Tarquin hadn't been rude to him that he hadn't punched him or used his biotics. He stood up.
Terrence was about to walk away when Tarquin stood up and stood in front of him.
He was so tall, nearly seven foot. Terrence wasn't short by any stretch of the imagination standing at six foot two, but he felt dwarfed.
Impotent. It only reminded himself of the year on the streets of New York before joining the Reds when he'd been nine.
"I didn't mean to offend you or judge you, I'm just curious."
Tarquin sounded apologetic but that wasn't good enough for him. Terrence's reponse was iron-clad refusal.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"I think you should, it'll help. I'm a good listener."
That was odd coming from him. Tarquin didn't really seem like the type of turia- person to brag, but maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to try and overcome it, his xenophobia. Whilst the Reds would call it healthy wariness of alien scum, he knew it for what it was.
Fear.
He'd always be a Red at heart, but that didn't mean he couldn't be better. Be something more. Maybe the military was that option. Having a phobia of aliens made him pathetic. Weak. Things that he didn't need in order to succeed. Maybe this was what Anderson had meant when he'd been trying to get him to overcome his xenophobia.
Echoes of a child who spent every waking hour after school hiding from child traffickers and the usual creeps who frequented the alleyways in abandoned houses. He'd gotten very good at scouting and breaking into abandoned buildings before he joined the Reds. Murderers, rapists.. New York wasn't the place for a homeless, lonely child. A lonely person even. He'd done his best to avoid bringing attention to his situation to his school. Though looking back, it was likely that they didn't care. New York was an amoral cesspit.
Terrence looked up at Tarquin at last. Becoming aware of the blue haze enveloping his right fist that Tarquin was shielding from view by angling his body towards his. That was what cemented his decision.
"You're buying me drinks though."
Tarquin gave him a slight smile, teeth illuminated by the game still open on his wrist. Terrence managed to control his flinch that time and Tarquin's smile extended.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 8
anonymous
April 6 2015, 11:43:52 UTC
As they left the building that had housed the event, Tarquin turned to face him.
"Most lounges and clubs that serve alcohol only open at 19:00 CST, so we're going to have to kill some time until then. Anything you have in mind, Terrence?"
He shook his head. This was his first time on the Citadel, the only thing he was certain of, location-wise, was the Docks.
Tarquin looked around, briefly scanning their surroundings before pointing in the direction of the area filled with horticultural gardens.
"Hmm... how about that bench over there, we could continue with that game we were playing."
Terrence gave a non-committal shrug, he didn't want to give any sign of how pleased he was that his xenophobia was being ignored until he was plied with alcohol. He'd need it.
"Sure."
They'd played for maybe an hour in near silence before it finally got to Terrence. He'd half expected Tarquin to use the game as a way to gently probe into his background.
The turian, Tarquin damn it, was far too kind for his own good. Why the fuck was he a soldier?
"I get the feeling that you'd be better served in another profession, Tarquin."
A wry flanging chuckle met his ears as Terrence began to gaze at the gardens surrounding the bench they were sat on. It was very calming.
He may be kind, but he was very cunning in a subtle way. If he'd planned on asking any questions the scenery made it hard to feel anything but a gentle calm. The C-Sec patrolling in the distance would make any explosive reactions on his part, foolish.
The kid wasn't half-bad.
"Is it that obvious?" Tarquin sounded very far away as he continued. "I'd like to become a part of the committee of historians for the 7th Legion, but I'd have to complete a mandatory fifteen year service with distinction. This is my second year."
"I don't see what the problem is, Tarquin. You're a Corporal at the age of 18, it seems in my eyes that you're well on track for serving with distinction."
Tarquin dipped his head at him in acknowledgement.
"My father is hoping that I succeed him in his position, so it's likely within a couple of years I'll get pushed into accepting further command training. There are very few turians who possess the tactical flair that my father has, and I have some talent in that area too."
Tarquin visibly drooped, his shoulders sagging and his voice sounding almost despondent.
"As you can imagine, there is a lot of pressure on me to follow in his footsteps. I'm nowhere near as good as my father though, no turian is... So my only hopes are to emulate him."
Terrence's hand twitched, he was tempted to place his hand on Tarquin's shoulder in support as he gazed at him intently with those black eyes surrounded by white markings and cream coloured plates. Black-blue eyes actually. Terrence could understand parents causing misery. 9 years of being loved fiercely as an only child to being discarded like yesterday's garbage.
Fuck parents.
But why was he telling him all this? Was Tarquin trying to play shrink with him?
Fuck that.
His voice was surprisingly level despite the annoyance starting to creep into him.
"Why are you telling me all of this?"
Tarquin shrugged unapologetically, a faint smile crossing his plated lips.
"If you think I'm trying to coerce you into speaking about your xenophobia, I'm not."
Tarquin sighed once more in response to Terrence's continued silence. Terrence hadn't bought that at all.
"It's just nice being able to vent. Especially to a neutral party who doesn't care about your inability to match up to your father."
Terrence nodded and gazed without really seeing into the distance.
He wasn't sure if Tarquin was just incredibly manipulative or if Terrence himself was so easy to read. Likely a bit of both, emotional control was something he lacked. He did say his father was a tactical genius, it wouldn't be wrong to say that Tarquin had gained some of his father's talent.
If his father had the talent for manipulating ex-con humans into feeling they had some form of.. some form of...
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 9
anonymous
April 6 2015, 11:44:29 UTC
Emotional attachment to a turian.
No.
An emotional attachment to the only person who actually wanted to help him out of some form of selflessness. Altruism was the word. He knew Anderson liked him and all, and it was mutual, but he was trying to shape him into something he was not. Or at least something he wasn't sure he was ready to be, not yet.
The military was still the lesser of two evils in his mind.
It may be fast to say this, but he did like Tarquin. He'd make a good friend, and Terrence had so few these days.
He admitted the truth that he had hidden in his thoughts.
"I care."
Tarquin physically froze, and his flanging voice was full of disbelief.
"You do?"
Terrence nodded and continued to stare into the distance. He'd never been good with cheesy shit like this with other humans, so he didn't even want to find out how horrific he'd potentially be at it with a turian.
Maybe their combined manliness (with Tarquin's height and the depth of his voice, he had to be masculine) would cancel the whole emotional melodrama that could potentially emerge.
Terrence's consequent snicker to himself helped lighten the mood considerably. The almost stifling tension that had arisen seemed almost like it had never happened.
"I can sympathize when it comes to problems with parents. Also, you were kind to me, it's only fair that I do the same in return. You're alright, Tarquin."
That small flick of mandibles to reveal teeth was his only response
"That must be a glowing commendation coming from you, to a turian."
The allusion to his xenophobia managed to make him smile. Unbelievable.
"It sure is."
They were silent again. Compared to their previous silences, this one was comfortable. Not familiar, yet welcome all the same.
Terrence had a question for once.
"Do you usually play therapist to your squadmates?"
"I wouldn't say I play therapist. More that I listen if I feel they have any problems, it helps."
"Let me guess, that's something that your father does?"
Tarquin looked oddly guilty, his gaze falling back to his omnitool.
"Yes."
Maybe he could help him out here.
"You said that your father is proud of you, right?"
Tarquin nodded, he seemed almost cautious now. It was nice to turn the tables on him for once.
"Then surely, he'd be happy with you the way you are? Not with you trying to become him."
Tarquin's response was almost instantaneous. Self-assured even.
"That doesn't mean I can't better myself."
Terrence had to admit to himself that Tarquin had a point.
"Why not focus on working to your strengths? I imagine you're good at things that your father isn't."
Tarquin was silent for a long time. Terrence wasn't sure whether or not to be worried about the depth of hero worship Tarquin clearly had for his father. It was minutes before Tarquin spoke.
"I'll have to get back to you on that one."
Terrence rolled his eyes. He checked his omni-tool, it was now 18:13 CST. Not long now until he could get wasted, or as wasted as necessary to talk.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 10
anonymous
April 14 2015, 17:11:26 UTC
Terrence had expected maybe a small bar or a lounge, somewhere quiet so Tarquin would be able to hear him.
Not a nightclub with such overwhelming bass. Flux it was called. It must be incredibly popular to have had such a large queue in the early evening.
"What can I get for you?" The asari bartender asked him with marked disinterest. A finger at her lip and her vision fixed at a point behind him.
A human bartender for starters. Also, for her to stop looking at him like he was completely beneath her notice. A list of drinks that contained Earth drinks because he didn't recognize any of this alien shit. He didn't care that they were levo, he cared whether they were human made or not. Where was his giant turian accomplice when he was needed?
"He'll have the Woodford Reserve Bourbon Whiskey," Tarquin called over his shoulder and pushed a credit chit into his right hand. Terrence almost jumped. Tarquin had went to use the Men's, he'd not known that he'd came back.
It also explained the asari's lack of focus on him. He felt oddly proud and pleased that Tarquin was considered attractive by asari, or this asari in particular.
Wait.. Woodford Reserve? That shit was expensive.
Terrence turned and gave Tarquin a look of utter disbelief.
"I saw a human at the other side of the bar order it. Or would you rather have a Thessian Aurora?" Tarquin asked with a graceful shrug. "They're about the same price."
That sounded like a wimpy drink. Only the hard stuff for him, thank you.
"Alright," Terrence said. Expensive whiskey would be a great end to his brief shore leave. Imminent painful memories aside. Free, expensive whiskey was more than welcome.
"Just give me a moment," the bartender said with a faint smile on her lips before turning to rummage through her stock.
Tarquin in his black and red armour cut an intimidating image standing at his shoulder (why was he so close?), so it made the brief smile he gave in response to Terrence's acceptance seem special. Not that it was special.
And the bartender picked up on it. Her smile continuing to spread.
Terrence panicked.
"It's not like that. Or whatever you're thinking. We're friends, just friends."
Terrence felt so exposed in his Alliance blues in face of the asari's probing, almost knowing gaze. The material was practically sheer, not that he didn't look good in it.
He was a damn handsome guy after all.
Then he remembered that he'd admitted that Tarquin was his friend.
"I'm your friend?" Tarquin asked with clear surprise in his voice.
"Just friends?" The asari asked with a smirk. "In that case, I'd like to talk to your turian friend. Alone." She passed Terrence the bottle of whiskey and he took it in hand.
Then she pinned her bedroom eyes, they were very good he could admit, on Tarquin.
Hmm...
Stay, and potentially be implicated as being in a relationship with a turian, or go and enjoy his expensive drink in peace.
There was really no option in his mind.
"Yeah we're friends, Tarquin. Believe it or not. I'll leave you here with the bartender and maybe you two can get cozy together." Terrence said with a light smirk on his face.
And make freaky alien babies together. That erased his smirk pretty quickly, he really didn't want to be thinking about how a turian and an asari would... well.
Tarquin looked betrayed as he stepped up to the counter with the asari pretty much fucking him with her eyes. Terrence mouthed a sorry at him as he left the bar.
"Since you're buying the drinks, I'll find a booth." Terrence called to Tarquin as he skilfully ignored her flirting with a flat expression.
It wasn't hard to find an empty booth. It was hard to find a small booth that wasn't intended to seat a party. The dancefloor was currently packed beyond belief.
He'd seen a couple of human women giving him the eye as he searched for a booth. He returned their perusal with a nod. The two asari he'd seen looking at him in appreciation were ignored, though they did help soothe the momentary blow his ego had taken at the bar.
Terrence chuckled as he took a light sip of the whiskey remembering Tarquin's predicament whilst he was comfortably seated in a 3 person booth. Eyes closed he enjoyed the spicy, fruity finish.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 11
anonymous
April 14 2015, 17:12:36 UTC
There was a burst of movement and he opened one of his eyes to see Tarquin rushing in like the devil was at his heels, a tall pitcher like glass filled with an ominous looking yellow drink in his hand. A succubus was a type of demon he supposed. The comparison wasn't entirely incorrect.
"Nice to see you again, Tarquin. You took your time," Terrence said after closing his eyes once more, a faint smirk on his face as he enjoyed the liquid heat spreading through him.
This whiskey was just sex in a bottle. It'd be in his best interests to look after this friendship carefully if Tarquin was prepared to supply him with this. Implications of being in a relationship with him were more than worth dealing with.
".. Don't remind me," Tarquin mumbled as he took the seat beside him.
"You don't like asari?" Terrence asked after opening his eyes.
Tarquin laughed surprisingly, his form shaking a little in his mirth.
"It's not that. You should have heard some of the things she was saying: 'You're not interested? Fine, you can bring your human friend along and the three of us can all have some fun.'" Tarquin mimicked what Terrence could only assume to be her honeyed tones pretty damn well.
Then he digested what he'd said. It was only the fact that the whiskey was a gift, and how fucking good it was that he didn't spit-take.
"What?" He said in utter disbelief, struggling to swallow down the gulp of whiskey he'd taken in his shock. It was pretty damn strong.
A smile was growing across Tarquin's face as he took a long drain of his drink. Somehow, Terrence got the feeling that it didn't bode well for him.
"That's what she said, Terrence. She also said: 'I've never been with a human before. I suppose it'll be worth it to get with your sexy ass. I'd like to watch you two as well, that could be hot.'" Tarquin added, still in that ridiculous voice.
Terrence twitched in discomfort. Maybe because of the fact that the idea of the two of them fucking didn't disgust him as much as he thought it would. It should. He'd always been casual with sex, and had ended up sleeping with nearly half of the local chapter of the Tenth Street Reds he was a part of. He had never been picky. Guys. Girls. Short. Tall. Fat. White guys. Black girls. Sex was just sex to him regardless of the person. He had no preferences.
Apart from them being human.
Terrence looked at Tarquin's mandibled face, so close to him and holding clear amusement at his discomfort. He took a large swig. He was clearly already buzzed to find the idea of fucking a turian to be something to be almost blasé towards. Never mind their close proximity, even if they were friends it was maybe a little too close. Terrence had expected Tarquin to take the seat on the opposite side of the booth, not the one next to him. Was he that lonely that it hadn't bothered him? Perhaps. It was nice to be treated like a friend instead of a criminal, a soldier or a nuisance. Damn nice.
He also felt proud that Tarquin wasn't ashamed of the fact that they were friends. Did Tarquin even consider him as his friend?
"I think I'd rather talk about my xenophobia than that crazy asari's fantasies of you," Terrence said with a slight grimace.
"Lidanya is her name, and they were of us," Tarquin added helpfully. Still smiling at him.
Damn him. He was meant to be nice and mature, as he was earlier. Not teasing him.
"Now that I think about it, I think she was a little drunk when we got our drinks as I could smell alcohol on her breath. She did have some compliments for you though, especially about your colouring," Tarquin acknowledged with a clinical air to him.
"Tarquin," Terrence warned before he could even dare think of imitating her again.
"Terrence," Tarquin replied calmly in return.
Terrence just exhaled. He needed to pace himself otherwise he'd be wasted within the hour. Tarquin wasn't being helpful in that regard. The images he was provoking were the type that needed alcohol to be washed down with.
"You'll find that turians are very good at revenge, Terrence," Tarquin said with a smile.
Well played, Tarquin. You win this one.
"Now. Do you want to still talk to me about it?" Tarquin asked kindly.
Terrence shrugged non-committally. He didn't really mind either way.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 12
anonymous
April 19 2015, 17:33:36 UTC
Tarquin gave him an expectant look as he leaned back in his seat and waited, relaxed and at ease. Terrence was glad for the lack of tension on his side as it would make things easier. He stared at the whiskey bottle in contemplation. Where to begin? From the beginning would be best.
If he ever became famous, Tarquin could write his biography. He did want to be a historian it'd prove good practice for him.
"I was born in New York City in the United States of America on Earth. My parents had recently emigrated from the Dominican Republic for work after they'd spent some time in Singapore for their honeymoon," Terrence said.
He snorted in annoyance. Fucking Singapore...
Fucking eezo spills.
"I'm not even sure why they went there, that place is probably one of the most population dense places on Earth. But I'd never claim to understand my parents," Terrence added bitterly.
"Anyway, when my parents had went to Singapore there was a large eezo spill and my..." Terrence stopped to take a swig from the bottle. Thinking about his mom just pissed him off. The burn from taking such a large gulp, straight and without a chaser, made him wince briefly.
"My mom was caught up in it. Evidently she must have been caught up in it fucking big time, dancing in the eezo and.. fuck who knows!? Because I was born three years after it happened and still ended up as a damn biotic!" Terrence cried waving his hands up in disbelief.
He could hear Tarquin laughing beside him, Terrence stopped to enjoy the sound of his laughter before choosing to continue on.
"My childhood was good. Apart from my parents' tendency towards reclusiveness, we were pretty normal. My parents weren't wealthy, but they were frugal, and we lived comfortably. We went to visit family in the Dominican Republic once when I was seven, and it's probably one of my fondest memories of the time I spent with them. My parents, that is. Santo Domingo was beautiful, almost rural in comparison to New York. Nowhere near as urbanized and there was none of the casual apathy that New Yorkers had. Everyone was so..." Terrence smiled, a genuine smile at the memory. Not one of the mocking, grim smirks he'd become fond of as of late.
"Happy," Terrence finished. He missed those days.
"I was eight when my biotics had first manifested. My parents initially were just leery, which I suppose was natural. Seeing your child suddenly making things float couldn't have been something to be nonchalant about," Terrence mused.
"You were able to make things float at the age of eight? With control?" Tarquin asked quietly before draining the remaining contents of his glass.
"Yeah, I could control it pretty well. Though that would change later though," Terrence replied, idly tracing the curves of his bottle with his index finger.
He was about to explain what he meant when Tarquin suddenly stood up, an apologetic smile on his face.
"Do you mind if I get a refill?" Tarquin asked, gesturing to his empty glass.
He did mind, but Tarquin had gotten him his whiskey so who was he to begrudge him the choice to get himself more liquor.
"Go ahead."
"Want anything, Terrence? Tarquin asked, standing at the edge of the booth with a questioning look.
He shook his head in the negative and Tarquin left in his typical predatory turian lope. It was almost eerie how silent his footsteps were despite the fact he was in full armour.
Tarquin ended up taking a long time, whether it was because the club had become even more packed or some other reason, Terrence didn't know. He ended up finishing the bottle in his absence. The whiskey ended up leaving him feeling like he was burning up, he could feel himself sweating.
So he unbuttoned the top two buttons. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. He was sober enough to know that taking off his tunic wouldn't be entirely socially acceptable. It was a good thing that he didn't end up asking for any more liquor as he was on duty tomorrow. Wouldn't be setting a good example to come in with a hangover in light of his new found desire to succeed.
Re: MShep/Tarquin Victus Fortuitous 13
anonymous
April 19 2015, 17:34:20 UTC
He was interrupted from his attempt to rest his slightly blurry vision by a female voice.
"I was hoping when we made eyes across the room that you'd dance with me," she scolded him before adding, "I've been looking for you."
That was slightly stalkerish, but he decided he'd be flattered. Not creeped out. It was understandable, he supposed. Whilst her attention might have been welcome any other day, it wasn't this one. He was here to speak with Tarquin, not to get laid.
Somehow he wasn't disappointed at that fact.
He opened his eyes and looked at her in appraisal. Pretty face, black hair, blue eyes, and her body in that blue skin tight dress was just ridiculous. Okay, so he was slightly disappointed now, as said green eyes were focussed hungrily on his chest. He looked down in question as he felt like he was missing something. The sight of a sizeable sliver of toned dark brown skin peeking back at him answered his question.
Pointedly.
Well, shit. It seemed like he'd undid all of the buttons of his tunic leaving the top of his chest was exposed. He couldn't find the required effort to re-button them, his arms feeling far too sluggish when he tried to move them to the table so he could lean forward to protect his assets. Besides, she shouldn't be here anyway. She wasn't welcome to his pity party.
Terrence managed to find the friendliness to smile.
"I'm flattered that you've sought me out, but I'm here to talk to a friend," Terrence said with honest regret in his voice.
She frowned, stopping her examination of his body, and looked at him with growing interest. Her blue eyes connecting with his hazel. He could only assume that she wasn't used to being denied to find rejection not to be much of a downer.
"Who's your friend?" she asked, or rather demanded.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
Tarquin walked into the booth and almost collided with their unwanted visitor before gracefully stepping around her. She was frozen in place, just watching him. Surprisingly not out of fear, but surprise. Tarquin stopped for a few seconds, his eyes quickly assessing the room and lingering on his chest for a second, before he retook his seat. It was lucky that he hadn't bumped into her due to the fact he was holding three drinks. Two more glasses of that yellow liquid he favoured and a glass of water for.. Terrence as he quickly passed it to him after retaking his seat.
"Thank you, Tarquin," Terrence mumbled gratefully enjoying the calming chill of the water against his hands.
"Don't worry about it."
Adorned with his usual small smile.
He looked back up at the girl, hoping that she'd left, and what he saw made him want to cry. It was like the bartender but worse. Infinitely worse.
She was excited, looking between them like Christmas had come early. Like twelve months and thirty fucking days early.
"I've come across a couple male turian and female human couples, but I've never seen a male-male one before!" she exclaimed with clear relish.
What the actual fuck? Seriously?
Terrence ended up just dropping his forehead onto the table and just planned to stay there and pretend to be.. pretend to be dead until she left. Tarquin couldn't be in a relationship with a corpse after all. Maybe he'd cease to exist in her mind if he did this for long enough.
"I'm sorry to ruin your hopes, but we're just friends," Tarquin explained. Rather slowly too, like he was talking to a deranged toddler. Which by the squeal that left her as she said male-male, she was. "Just friends."
"Oh? Then why is his chest on display? Not that he should button up! He has lovely pecs from what little I can see of them," she said.
He couldn't see her expression from his self-imposed seclusion, but it sounded like it had the most smug smile. Someone kill him, please.
"... That's.. nice to know. I don't know why his chest is exposed though, as he was completely buttoned up before I left," Tarquin said with an increasingly pondering tone.
"Isn't it obvious?" The girl asked, sighing at what he could only imagine to be Tarquin's supposed ignorance in her mind. "He planned to seduce you with his sexy muscles."
"I'd just drank a bottle of whiskey and I was sweating," Terrence mumbled with growing annoyance around his mouthful of table.
If he were human, Terrence would assume he was zoning Hackett out.
He really was a daddy's boy.
The turi- Tarquin. He had a name, right.
What did you say to a turian?
Terrence didn't have a fucking clue. Asking questions about military life might end up with him having to reciprocate. Being honest about his background on the Tokyo had went so well.
So... how do you keep your teeth so sharp? Blowjobs are definitely a no-no with that mouth. He almost felt sorry for turians.
Almost.
What's it like having three fingers? Handjobs must be pretty shitty with a three fingered hand. Terrence couldn't help but picture himself masturbating with just a thumb and two fingers and had to hold in a chuckle. That would take a long time to go anywhere, if it even did anything.
And now his mind was wondering about turian masturbatory habits. Fuck.
Hackett was droning on about interspecies unity and human perseverance. It was all very Disney.
Yawn.
Terrence discreetly opened his omnitool, probably the best thing that joining the military had resulted in. If his biotics weren't so naturally strong (he was going to get an amp fitted once he'd acquired the required emotional control) he'd have liked to have become a Sentinel rather than an Adept. The idea of using his omnitool as a weapon, instead of a time-killer, almost made him feel giddy.
Hmm... what to do?...
Of course. Hopefully the turian would be interested in playing, it'd be nice to play Civilization multiplayer.
It'd probably appeal to him. Turians lived and breathed military and strategy games, even he knew that. The Reds (himself included) had found it highly ironic that the most popular vintage human vid amongst turians was Saving Private Ryan.
Terrence set up the game before dimming the brightness on the emerging holographical screen representing the game.
He slowly edged his wrist towards the arm-rest separating their seats. Discreetly, of course. As far as the surrounding audience were concerned he was eagerly watching Hackett bore everyone to tears.
A whispered flanging voice met him before he could even ask, before he could look up at him.
"You can't be serious."
A smirk crossed his face as he whispered back.
"It's a civilization building strategy game. Me and you versus 8 AI. You game?"
Tarquin looked at the holographical representation in consideration. He seemed tempted.
How do you lure a turian into playing a strategy game?
"You can build your little military and enslave the AI if you want. Think of the AI as Krogan. Unfortunately there's no Genophage but orbital bombardment is an option. Maybe you can think of them as slavers if that helps. Hell, I'll support you whilst I buy out all the city states. They're like... err.. volus. Yeah, volus."
Tarquin looked scandalized, almost recoiling but his mandibles were slightly lifted. A scandalized smile?
Good enough. At least he wasn't showing his teeth, he might just recoil in turn.
"I can send you the game and there's several translations into other species languages so you should be okay. It's pretty popular with turians already."
That was an educated guess, Terrence had no fucking clue.
Tarquin quietly laughed and it wasn't such a bad sound, surprisingly.
"Alright, why not? There's no need to send me a copy, I'm relatively fluent in English. It is in English, right?"
Terrence was gobsmacked. Why the fuck did he know English?
Tarquin seemed to anticipate his surprise as he went on to explain.
"I don't know what you know about turian military history, but it's generally common for large squads to have a record-keeper. It's been a cultural expectation for them to be multilingual from pre-spaceflight times. I'm fluent in Primus Lingua, turian common, Siarin, the asari higher dialect and English. I'm currently learning Haestus, a dead turian language."
Terrence absently nodded, still shocked, and placed his wrist on the armrest before shaking it in Tarquin's direction.
"You're going to be Rome."
"Why do I have the feeling you're being racist?"
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Terrence thought it was kind of convenient that their starting locations were pretty much next to each other. It'd be a shame for Tarquin to get wiped out in the first 50 turns to warmongers like the Huns or Mongolia who spiked early in the game.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: So, Terrence. Can you please tell me how you thought a middle aged pale skinned human in a gaudy white robe would prove relatable to me?
Tarquin was doing pretty well, or maybe this game was intuitive to turians. He'd rushed settlers to get the rest of Italy and had taken most of Greece. He was lucky that only France and Sweden were local to them so he could expand without fear of any major repercussions. As long as he maintained his military in proportion to the size of his empire.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: You look amazingly alike of course. But seriously, turians and the Romans have a lot of cultural similarities. Both of you are renowned for your military discipline, hierarchy-based society, you both call parts of your military legions and your names, or their translations, are really similar, if not identical to Roman names.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Really? What about my name?
Terrence quickly opened another holo window and searched his name.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: One second, checking the extranet.
He couldn't help but smirk at Superbus.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Lucius Tarquinius Superbus was the legendary seventh and final king of Rome, reigning from 535 BC until the popular uprising in 509 that led to the establishment of the Roman Republic.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice:
Noun
vīctus m (genitive victūs); fourth declension
living, way of life
nourishment, provision, diet, that which sustains life
Of course his name was pretentiously impressive.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Interesting. You'll be interested to know that in turian common, Terrence is close to a word that translates to sly or cunning. Shepard is gibberish though. What does your name mean to a human?
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Name meanings have died away for humans really. Parents generally pick what is common in their culture, or what they like. Let me check the extranet again.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: That's largely different from turians. Whilst we are culturally aware of our names, it is common to pick a name that has good meaning and bodes well for a fledgling's future.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Fledgling? And you said you're rather fluent in English, it seems perfect to me.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I'm honoured you think so, and a fledgling is a turian child below the age of 8. We take longer to mature physically as children than humans. Turian children are... small.
(Terrence Shepard): Well from the extranet, it has two main meanings. In Gaelic it means from the knolls and in Latin, the language of the Romans, it means smooth. Then the contemporary meaning in English is tender. A shepherd, note the spelling, is someone who herds sheep, they're a type of livestock.
Tarquin slightly shook beside him as he held his face in his free hand to muffle his mirth. Terrence found himself fighting to stop himself from smiling, his laughter was slightly infectious.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Stop laughing.
Tarquin audibly wheezed, thankfully no-one turned around, and Terrence's lips twitched.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I'm sorry, but your name means from the small hills? And smooth? Sounds more like a name to be given to a pet. Don't even get me started on the tender part or the livestock rearing.
Terrence was surprised that he wasn't angry at him for pretty much insulting his name. Tarquin was growing on him fast.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Not all of us can have the name of kings.
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(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: How... turian for your name to mean steadfast conquest. Is war the only thing on turian minds?
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: How... human for your name to mean the smooth, tender sheep herder from the hills. Is making sense ever an option in human minds?
Terrence couldn't help but snigger into his own hand. They were like a pair of teenagers just cracking shitty jokes in the back of a classroom.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Touché.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Indeed. Maybe we should get back to playing, I just got my unique unit: the Legion (which is exactly what we call our human Marine analogue, the resemblances are uncanny when you look past the squishiness). I can build roads and forts with it, interesting. Seems the Romans have the same focus on infrastructure as early, and contemporary, turians do. I can focus my workers on improving all the wine I have now. How's it going in Venice?
Tarquin was a natural. Able to pick past all the tooltips and numbers to the strategical use of each unit and building.
Not as good as himself, but Terrence could see he was pretty damn good for a beginner. They were playing on the 3rd highest difficulty as well.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: Good. I'm about to get the Hanging Gardens of Babylon so my capital will grow faster. It provides a boost to food and great person production which will help when I need to start churning out Merchants of Venice. When we reach the Medieval Era I'll get my first Merchant of Venice and be able to buy out city states. I'll be getting Valetta to the south. Also, you might want to be careful as France might declare war on you (and by extension me and my one city which is my capital!) soon for expanding so close to Paris, his capital. France's military is rather formidable at the moment.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I was wondering why you weren't making any settlers until I checked the Civilopedia (the ingame encyclopedia is pretty nice) and saw that Venice can't produce settlers and can only control city states. Napoleon, I hope I spelt that right, has been sending me messages telling me to stop settling lands he sees as his.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo: And you ignored him?
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: I plan on taking his capital. He has lots of wine in his borders. My citizens like wine.
He had the feeling that Tarquin was smirking as he read his reply. He would in his position.
And then Tarquin declared war on France. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Terrence had planned on using Tarquin's huge military as a shield to prevent declarations being made against him as the AI tended to prey on the weak. Tarquin wasn't the one who shared a border with France, he'd been expanding to the east towards Belgrade (the city state he planned on taking after Valetta). Terrence had a grand total of 3 composite bowman and 2 spearmen to Tarquin's 6 ballista, 8 composite bowmen, 4 spearmen and 9 legions. He couldn't imagine what France had as they were number one on the demographics for military.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: God forgive me for creating a monster.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Spirits help Napoleon when I take all his wine for my own. He has 5 cities so I'll start with the one most local to me, Troyes.
And Tarquin proceeded to steamroll the French, only losing 3 legions and a ballista. Terrence was just flabbergasted as Tarquin took Paris 30 turns later.
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Terrence would puppet a city state far to the east. Kathmandu or Singapore most likely. Tarquin may not be able to declare war on him as they were on the same team, but he'd feel safer there.
Much safer.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: When we get Banking I'll send you some.
Then Tarquin, and by extension him, met Britain who'd apparently beaten Tarquin to Sweden as she now had them on the ropes. Stockholm was in the red and Tarquin was nowhere near to steal the capture.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: Spirits... The British are relentless with their naval invasion. Look at all those galleasses. It's time for me to diversify my army.
(Terrence Shepard) Enrico Dandolo of Venice: You need to do that before she reaches Navigation or we might be screwed. With the combination of her longbowmen (they have a 3 tile range) and ship of the line (most powerful ranged naval unit of the Renaissance Era) you'll be stymied until maybe the Industrial Era. I'm going to build some great galleasses and then we're going to declare war on England.
Tarquin disagreed and declared immediately. God help them both.
(Tarquin Victus) Augustus Caesar of Rome: You need to be decisive when it comes to warfare, Terrence. Most of her fleet is concentrated in Northern Europe (this game has proven to be a great crash course on Earthen geography) so we can just sneak in and attack her exposed cities. Send me some gold and I'll purchase galleasses in all my coastal cities. I just need 300 more to buy 4.
Then there was a round of applause as Hackett finally stepped off of the podium. About time. Terrence was about to send off the gold when a loud cough near his left ear distracted him and he looked up. It was Anderson, shit. He stood up frantically, the holographical representation of the game betraying him by brightly glowing on his wrist as he saluted.
"Captain Anderson, sir."
Anderson looked amused, a wry smile on his lips as he looked between the two of them. Tarquin had briefly looked up before going back to the game, his head bent intently over his wrist as he flicked through the encyclopedia on longbowmen and ships of the line.
A potential addict. Terrence corrupting turians into human strategy games. Oh yes.
"At ease. I noticed how much you enjoyed the speeches, Terrence."
Terrence smiled back and it was genuine. He liked Anderson.
"I did, I especially liked Admiral Hackett's speech on unity and... perseverance. General Victus's was good I suppose."
Tarquin faintly mumbled into his wrist behind them.
"Excellent actually."
Anderson laughed, a humouring smile crossing his face as he turned back to face Terrence and spoke.
"So you managed to catch the first fifteen minutes of his ninety minute speech. I suppose that's better than most, I saw an asari fall asleep in the first five."
"Just doing my best to defy expectations, sir."
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"We're back on duty at 07:00 Citadel Standard, so report to the ship then."
Terrence quickly checked his omnitool, it was 15:32 CST. Plenty of time.
"Understood, Captain."
Anderson gave him a significant look and briefly looked at Tarquin.
Terrence understood that he was approving of their.. acquaintance? He wouldn't say they were friends.
Anderson departed with a final nod and walked towards the Admiral who was talking to a turian in black armour with red trim and lots of sigils. Probably a general.
He took his seat again and looked at Tarquin.
"I'm surprised that a horde of turians didn't descend on you to berate you."
Tarquin smiled, though this time his mandibles were slightly quirked revealing his teeth. Terrence did his best not to flinch and failed. Tarquin noticed, his smile fading, and a neutral expression coming across his face as he closed the game.
"I acquired exemption from duty for this week so I could see my father's speech. As I came alone and I wasn't disturbing anybody, there was no reason for them to be angry with me. We are a lot more reasonable than you seem to think we are."
Terrence didn't know what to say to that.
Tarquin looked solemn now.
"I have a question I'd like to ask."
Terrence nodded and Tarquin's voice was hushed.
"Are you afraid of just turians, or non-humans in general?"
Heat rushed to Terrence's cheeks and he couldn't help the tightening of his jaw. If he wasn't his colour, a mahogany brown, his blush would likely have given away his embarrassment. It was only because Tarquin hadn't been rude to him that he hadn't punched him or used his biotics. He stood up.
Terrence was about to walk away when Tarquin stood up and stood in front of him.
He was so tall, nearly seven foot. Terrence wasn't short by any stretch of the imagination standing at six foot two, but he felt dwarfed.
Impotent. It only reminded himself of the year on the streets of New York before joining the Reds when he'd been nine.
"I didn't mean to offend you or judge you, I'm just curious."
Tarquin sounded apologetic but that wasn't good enough for him. Terrence's reponse was iron-clad refusal.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"I think you should, it'll help. I'm a good listener."
That was odd coming from him. Tarquin didn't really seem like the type of turia- person to brag, but maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to try and overcome it, his xenophobia. Whilst the Reds would call it healthy wariness of alien scum, he knew it for what it was.
Fear.
He'd always be a Red at heart, but that didn't mean he couldn't be better. Be something more. Maybe the military was that option. Having a phobia of aliens made him pathetic. Weak. Things that he didn't need in order to succeed. Maybe this was what Anderson had meant when he'd been trying to get him to overcome his xenophobia.
Echoes of a child who spent every waking hour after school hiding from child traffickers and the usual creeps who frequented the alleyways in abandoned houses. He'd gotten very good at scouting and breaking into abandoned buildings before he joined the Reds. Murderers, rapists.. New York wasn't the place for a homeless, lonely child. A lonely person even. He'd done his best to avoid bringing attention to his situation to his school. Though looking back, it was likely that they didn't care. New York was an amoral cesspit.
Terrence looked up at Tarquin at last. Becoming aware of the blue haze enveloping his right fist that Tarquin was shielding from view by angling his body towards his. That was what cemented his decision.
"You're buying me drinks though."
Tarquin gave him a slight smile, teeth illuminated by the game still open on his wrist. Terrence managed to control his flinch that time and Tarquin's smile extended.
"That's acceptable."
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"Most lounges and clubs that serve alcohol only open at 19:00 CST, so we're going to have to kill some time until then. Anything you have in mind, Terrence?"
He shook his head. This was his first time on the Citadel, the only thing he was certain of, location-wise, was the Docks.
Tarquin looked around, briefly scanning their surroundings before pointing in the direction of the area filled with horticultural gardens.
"Hmm... how about that bench over there, we could continue with that game we were playing."
Terrence gave a non-committal shrug, he didn't want to give any sign of how pleased he was that his xenophobia was being ignored until he was plied with alcohol. He'd need it.
"Sure."
They'd played for maybe an hour in near silence before it finally got to Terrence. He'd half expected Tarquin to use the game as a way to gently probe into his background.
The turian, Tarquin damn it, was far too kind for his own good. Why the fuck was he a soldier?
"I get the feeling that you'd be better served in another profession, Tarquin."
A wry flanging chuckle met his ears as Terrence began to gaze at the gardens surrounding the bench they were sat on. It was very calming.
He may be kind, but he was very cunning in a subtle way. If he'd planned on asking any questions the scenery made it hard to feel anything but a gentle calm. The C-Sec patrolling in the distance would make any explosive reactions on his part, foolish.
The kid wasn't half-bad.
"Is it that obvious?" Tarquin sounded very far away as he continued. "I'd like to become a part of the committee of historians for the 7th Legion, but I'd have to complete a mandatory fifteen year service with distinction. This is my second year."
"I don't see what the problem is, Tarquin. You're a Corporal at the age of 18, it seems in my eyes that you're well on track for serving with distinction."
Tarquin dipped his head at him in acknowledgement.
"My father is hoping that I succeed him in his position, so it's likely within a couple of years I'll get pushed into accepting further command training. There are very few turians who possess the tactical flair that my father has, and I have some talent in that area too."
Tarquin visibly drooped, his shoulders sagging and his voice sounding almost despondent.
"As you can imagine, there is a lot of pressure on me to follow in his footsteps. I'm nowhere near as good as my father though, no turian is... So my only hopes are to emulate him."
Terrence's hand twitched, he was tempted to place his hand on Tarquin's shoulder in support as he gazed at him intently with those black eyes surrounded by white markings and cream coloured plates. Black-blue eyes actually. Terrence could understand parents causing misery. 9 years of being loved fiercely as an only child to being discarded like yesterday's garbage.
Fuck parents.
But why was he telling him all this? Was Tarquin trying to play shrink with him?
Fuck that.
His voice was surprisingly level despite the annoyance starting to creep into him.
"Why are you telling me all of this?"
Tarquin shrugged unapologetically, a faint smile crossing his plated lips.
"If you think I'm trying to coerce you into speaking about your xenophobia, I'm not."
Tarquin sighed once more in response to Terrence's continued silence. Terrence hadn't bought that at all.
"It's just nice being able to vent. Especially to a neutral party who doesn't care about your inability to match up to your father."
Terrence nodded and gazed without really seeing into the distance.
He wasn't sure if Tarquin was just incredibly manipulative or if Terrence himself was so easy to read. Likely a bit of both, emotional control was something he lacked. He did say his father was a tactical genius, it wouldn't be wrong to say that Tarquin had gained some of his father's talent.
If his father had the talent for manipulating ex-con humans into feeling they had some form of.. some form of...
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No.
An emotional attachment to the only person who actually wanted to help him out of some form of selflessness. Altruism was the word. He knew Anderson liked him and all, and it was mutual, but he was trying to shape him into something he was not. Or at least something he wasn't sure he was ready to be, not yet.
The military was still the lesser of two evils in his mind.
It may be fast to say this, but he did like Tarquin. He'd make a good friend, and Terrence had so few these days.
He admitted the truth that he had hidden in his thoughts.
"I care."
Tarquin physically froze, and his flanging voice was full of disbelief.
"You do?"
Terrence nodded and continued to stare into the distance. He'd never been good with cheesy shit like this with other humans, so he didn't even want to find out how horrific he'd potentially be at it with a turian.
Maybe their combined manliness (with Tarquin's height and the depth of his voice, he had to be masculine) would cancel the whole emotional melodrama that could potentially emerge.
Terrence's consequent snicker to himself helped lighten the mood considerably. The almost stifling tension that had arisen seemed almost like it had never happened.
"I can sympathize when it comes to problems with parents. Also, you were kind to me, it's only fair that I do the same in return. You're alright, Tarquin."
That small flick of mandibles to reveal teeth was his only response
"That must be a glowing commendation coming from you, to a turian."
The allusion to his xenophobia managed to make him smile. Unbelievable.
"It sure is."
They were silent again. Compared to their previous silences, this one was comfortable. Not familiar, yet welcome all the same.
Terrence had a question for once.
"Do you usually play therapist to your squadmates?"
"I wouldn't say I play therapist. More that I listen if I feel they have any problems, it helps."
"Let me guess, that's something that your father does?"
Tarquin looked oddly guilty, his gaze falling back to his omnitool.
"Yes."
Maybe he could help him out here.
"You said that your father is proud of you, right?"
Tarquin nodded, he seemed almost cautious now. It was nice to turn the tables on him for once.
"Then surely, he'd be happy with you the way you are? Not with you trying to become him."
Tarquin's response was almost instantaneous. Self-assured even.
"That doesn't mean I can't better myself."
Terrence had to admit to himself that Tarquin had a point.
"Why not focus on working to your strengths? I imagine you're good at things that your father isn't."
Tarquin was silent for a long time. Terrence wasn't sure whether or not to be worried about the depth of hero worship Tarquin clearly had for his father. It was minutes before Tarquin spoke.
"I'll have to get back to you on that one."
Terrence rolled his eyes. He checked his omni-tool, it was now 18:13 CST. Not long now until he could get wasted, or as wasted as necessary to talk.
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Not a nightclub with such overwhelming bass. Flux it was called. It must be incredibly popular to have had such a large queue in the early evening.
"What can I get for you?" The asari bartender asked him with marked disinterest. A finger at her lip and her vision fixed at a point behind him.
A human bartender for starters. Also, for her to stop looking at him like he was completely beneath her notice. A list of drinks that contained Earth drinks because he didn't recognize any of this alien shit. He didn't care that they were levo, he cared whether they were human made or not. Where was his giant turian accomplice when he was needed?
"He'll have the Woodford Reserve Bourbon Whiskey," Tarquin called over his shoulder and pushed a credit chit into his right hand. Terrence almost jumped. Tarquin had went to use the Men's, he'd not known that he'd came back.
It also explained the asari's lack of focus on him. He felt oddly proud and pleased that Tarquin was considered attractive by asari, or this asari in particular.
Wait.. Woodford Reserve? That shit was expensive.
Terrence turned and gave Tarquin a look of utter disbelief.
"I saw a human at the other side of the bar order it. Or would you rather have a Thessian Aurora?" Tarquin asked with a graceful shrug. "They're about the same price."
That sounded like a wimpy drink. Only the hard stuff for him, thank you.
"Alright," Terrence said. Expensive whiskey would be a great end to his brief shore leave. Imminent painful memories aside. Free, expensive whiskey was more than welcome.
"Just give me a moment," the bartender said with a faint smile on her lips before turning to rummage through her stock.
Tarquin in his black and red armour cut an intimidating image standing at his shoulder (why was he so close?), so it made the brief smile he gave in response to Terrence's acceptance seem special. Not that it was special.
And the bartender picked up on it. Her smile continuing to spread.
Terrence panicked.
"It's not like that. Or whatever you're thinking. We're friends, just friends."
Terrence felt so exposed in his Alliance blues in face of the asari's probing, almost knowing gaze. The material was practically sheer, not that he didn't look good in it.
He was a damn handsome guy after all.
Then he remembered that he'd admitted that Tarquin was his friend.
"I'm your friend?" Tarquin asked with clear surprise in his voice.
"Just friends?" The asari asked with a smirk. "In that case, I'd like to talk to your turian friend. Alone." She passed Terrence the bottle of whiskey and he took it in hand.
Then she pinned her bedroom eyes, they were very good he could admit, on Tarquin.
Hmm...
Stay, and potentially be implicated as being in a relationship with a turian, or go and enjoy his expensive drink in peace.
There was really no option in his mind.
"Yeah we're friends, Tarquin. Believe it or not. I'll leave you here with the bartender and maybe you two can get cozy together." Terrence said with a light smirk on his face.
And make freaky alien babies together. That erased his smirk pretty quickly, he really didn't want to be thinking about how a turian and an asari would... well.
Tarquin looked betrayed as he stepped up to the counter with the asari pretty much fucking him with her eyes. Terrence mouthed a sorry at him as he left the bar.
"Since you're buying the drinks, I'll find a booth." Terrence called to Tarquin as he skilfully ignored her flirting with a flat expression.
It wasn't hard to find an empty booth. It was hard to find a small booth that wasn't intended to seat a party. The dancefloor was currently packed beyond belief.
He'd seen a couple of human women giving him the eye as he searched for a booth. He returned their perusal with a nod. The two asari he'd seen looking at him in appreciation were ignored, though they did help soothe the momentary blow his ego had taken at the bar.
Terrence chuckled as he took a light sip of the whiskey remembering Tarquin's predicament whilst he was comfortably seated in a 3 person booth. Eyes closed he enjoyed the spicy, fruity finish.
Damn, this is some fucking good stuff.
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"Nice to see you again, Tarquin. You took your time," Terrence said after closing his eyes once more, a faint smirk on his face as he enjoyed the liquid heat spreading through him.
This whiskey was just sex in a bottle. It'd be in his best interests to look after this friendship carefully if Tarquin was prepared to supply him with this. Implications of being in a relationship with him were more than worth dealing with.
".. Don't remind me," Tarquin mumbled as he took the seat beside him.
"You don't like asari?" Terrence asked after opening his eyes.
Tarquin laughed surprisingly, his form shaking a little in his mirth.
"It's not that. You should have heard some of the things she was saying: 'You're not interested? Fine, you can bring your human friend along and the three of us can all have some fun.'" Tarquin mimicked what Terrence could only assume to be her honeyed tones pretty damn well.
Then he digested what he'd said. It was only the fact that the whiskey was a gift, and how fucking good it was that he didn't spit-take.
"What?" He said in utter disbelief, struggling to swallow down the gulp of whiskey he'd taken in his shock. It was pretty damn strong.
A smile was growing across Tarquin's face as he took a long drain of his drink. Somehow, Terrence got the feeling that it didn't bode well for him.
"That's what she said, Terrence. She also said: 'I've never been with a human before. I suppose it'll be worth it to get with your sexy ass. I'd like to watch you two as well, that could be hot.'" Tarquin added, still in that ridiculous voice.
Terrence twitched in discomfort. Maybe because of the fact that the idea of the two of them fucking didn't disgust him as much as he thought it would. It should. He'd always been casual with sex, and had ended up sleeping with nearly half of the local chapter of the Tenth Street Reds he was a part of. He had never been picky. Guys. Girls. Short. Tall. Fat. White guys. Black girls. Sex was just sex to him regardless of the person. He had no preferences.
Apart from them being human.
Terrence looked at Tarquin's mandibled face, so close to him and holding clear amusement at his discomfort. He took a large swig. He was clearly already buzzed to find the idea of fucking a turian to be something to be almost blasé towards. Never mind their close proximity, even if they were friends it was maybe a little too close. Terrence had expected Tarquin to take the seat on the opposite side of the booth, not the one next to him. Was he that lonely that it hadn't bothered him? Perhaps. It was nice to be treated like a friend instead of a criminal, a soldier or a nuisance. Damn nice.
He also felt proud that Tarquin wasn't ashamed of the fact that they were friends. Did Tarquin even consider him as his friend?
"I think I'd rather talk about my xenophobia than that crazy asari's fantasies of you," Terrence said with a slight grimace.
"Lidanya is her name, and they were of us," Tarquin added helpfully. Still smiling at him.
Damn him. He was meant to be nice and mature, as he was earlier. Not teasing him.
"Now that I think about it, I think she was a little drunk when we got our drinks as I could smell alcohol on her breath. She did have some compliments for you though, especially about your colouring," Tarquin acknowledged with a clinical air to him.
"Tarquin," Terrence warned before he could even dare think of imitating her again.
"Terrence," Tarquin replied calmly in return.
Terrence just exhaled. He needed to pace himself otherwise he'd be wasted within the hour. Tarquin wasn't being helpful in that regard. The images he was provoking were the type that needed alcohol to be washed down with.
"You'll find that turians are very good at revenge, Terrence," Tarquin said with a smile.
Well played, Tarquin. You win this one.
"Now. Do you want to still talk to me about it?" Tarquin asked kindly.
Terrence shrugged non-committally. He didn't really mind either way.
"Sure." Terrence replied.
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If he ever became famous, Tarquin could write his biography. He did want to be a historian it'd prove good practice for him.
"I was born in New York City in the United States of America on Earth. My parents had recently emigrated from the Dominican Republic for work after they'd spent some time in Singapore for their honeymoon," Terrence said.
He snorted in annoyance. Fucking Singapore...
Fucking eezo spills.
"I'm not even sure why they went there, that place is probably one of the most population dense places on Earth. But I'd never claim to understand my parents," Terrence added bitterly.
"Anyway, when my parents had went to Singapore there was a large eezo spill and my..." Terrence stopped to take a swig from the bottle. Thinking about his mom just pissed him off. The burn from taking such a large gulp, straight and without a chaser, made him wince briefly.
"My mom was caught up in it. Evidently she must have been caught up in it fucking big time, dancing in the eezo and.. fuck who knows!? Because I was born three years after it happened and still ended up as a damn biotic!" Terrence cried waving his hands up in disbelief.
He could hear Tarquin laughing beside him, Terrence stopped to enjoy the sound of his laughter before choosing to continue on.
"My childhood was good. Apart from my parents' tendency towards reclusiveness, we were pretty normal. My parents weren't wealthy, but they were frugal, and we lived comfortably. We went to visit family in the Dominican Republic once when I was seven, and it's probably one of my fondest memories of the time I spent with them. My parents, that is. Santo Domingo was beautiful, almost rural in comparison to New York. Nowhere near as urbanized and there was none of the casual apathy that New Yorkers had. Everyone was so..." Terrence smiled, a genuine smile at the memory. Not one of the mocking, grim smirks he'd become fond of as of late.
"Happy," Terrence finished. He missed those days.
"I was eight when my biotics had first manifested. My parents initially were just leery, which I suppose was natural. Seeing your child suddenly making things float couldn't have been something to be nonchalant about," Terrence mused.
"You were able to make things float at the age of eight? With control?" Tarquin asked quietly before draining the remaining contents of his glass.
"Yeah, I could control it pretty well. Though that would change later though," Terrence replied, idly tracing the curves of his bottle with his index finger.
He was about to explain what he meant when Tarquin suddenly stood up, an apologetic smile on his face.
"Do you mind if I get a refill?" Tarquin asked, gesturing to his empty glass.
He did mind, but Tarquin had gotten him his whiskey so who was he to begrudge him the choice to get himself more liquor.
"Go ahead."
"Want anything, Terrence? Tarquin asked, standing at the edge of the booth with a questioning look.
He shook his head in the negative and Tarquin left in his typical predatory turian lope. It was almost eerie how silent his footsteps were despite the fact he was in full armour.
Tarquin ended up taking a long time, whether it was because the club had become even more packed or some other reason, Terrence didn't know. He ended up finishing the bottle in his absence. The whiskey ended up leaving him feeling like he was burning up, he could feel himself sweating.
So he unbuttoned the top two buttons. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. He was sober enough to know that taking off his tunic wouldn't be entirely socially acceptable. It was a good thing that he didn't end up asking for any more liquor as he was on duty tomorrow. Wouldn't be setting a good example to come in with a hangover in light of his new found desire to succeed.
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"I was hoping when we made eyes across the room that you'd dance with me," she scolded him before adding, "I've been looking for you."
That was slightly stalkerish, but he decided he'd be flattered. Not creeped out. It was understandable, he supposed. Whilst her attention might have been welcome any other day, it wasn't this one. He was here to speak with Tarquin, not to get laid.
Somehow he wasn't disappointed at that fact.
He opened his eyes and looked at her in appraisal. Pretty face, black hair, blue eyes, and her body in that blue skin tight dress was just ridiculous. Okay, so he was slightly disappointed now, as said green eyes were focussed hungrily on his chest. He looked down in question as he felt like he was missing something. The sight of a sizeable sliver of toned dark brown skin peeking back at him answered his question.
Pointedly.
Well, shit. It seemed like he'd undid all of the buttons of his tunic leaving the top of his chest was exposed. He couldn't find the required effort to re-button them, his arms feeling far too sluggish when he tried to move them to the table so he could lean forward to protect his assets. Besides, she shouldn't be here anyway. She wasn't welcome to his pity party.
Terrence managed to find the friendliness to smile.
"I'm flattered that you've sought me out, but I'm here to talk to a friend," Terrence said with honest regret in his voice.
She frowned, stopping her examination of his body, and looked at him with growing interest. Her blue eyes connecting with his hazel. He could only assume that she wasn't used to being denied to find rejection not to be much of a downer.
"Who's your friend?" she asked, or rather demanded.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
Tarquin walked into the booth and almost collided with their unwanted visitor before gracefully stepping around her. She was frozen in place, just watching him. Surprisingly not out of fear, but surprise. Tarquin stopped for a few seconds, his eyes quickly assessing the room and lingering on his chest for a second, before he retook his seat. It was lucky that he hadn't bumped into her due to the fact he was holding three drinks. Two more glasses of that yellow liquid he favoured and a glass of water for.. Terrence as he quickly passed it to him after retaking his seat.
"Thank you, Tarquin," Terrence mumbled gratefully enjoying the calming chill of the water against his hands.
"Don't worry about it."
Adorned with his usual small smile.
He looked back up at the girl, hoping that she'd left, and what he saw made him want to cry. It was like the bartender but worse. Infinitely worse.
She was excited, looking between them like Christmas had come early. Like twelve months and thirty fucking days early.
"I've come across a couple male turian and female human couples, but I've never seen a male-male one before!" she exclaimed with clear relish.
What the actual fuck? Seriously?
Terrence ended up just dropping his forehead onto the table and just planned to stay there and pretend to be.. pretend to be dead until she left. Tarquin couldn't be in a relationship with a corpse after all. Maybe he'd cease to exist in her mind if he did this for long enough.
"I'm sorry to ruin your hopes, but we're just friends," Tarquin explained. Rather slowly too, like he was talking to a deranged toddler. Which by the squeal that left her as she said male-male, she was. "Just friends."
"Oh? Then why is his chest on display? Not that he should button up! He has lovely pecs from what little I can see of them," she said.
He couldn't see her expression from his self-imposed seclusion, but it sounded like it had the most smug smile. Someone kill him, please.
"... That's.. nice to know. I don't know why his chest is exposed though, as he was completely buttoned up before I left," Tarquin said with an increasingly pondering tone.
"Isn't it obvious?" The girl asked, sighing at what he could only imagine to be Tarquin's supposed ignorance in her mind. "He planned to seduce you with his sexy muscles."
"I'd just drank a bottle of whiskey and I was sweating," Terrence mumbled with growing annoyance around his mouthful of table.
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