(Untitled)

[pattersongs]

Busy, busy, busy, busy, busy- that's how things stand on board the Normandy. Mordin hasn't had time to seek the Bar out lately. Today he'd been planning on working through the latest set of data on cybernetic muscle enhancements when he found himself here. Well, no harm in that, right? He can get a drink, take a brief break, return to work with

Comments

[a_mere_child]

"Define 'patter song,'" remarks Alyx as she hefts herself onto a stool.

[pattersongs]

"Generally accepted definition is 'a piece of music often but not always intended for comedic effect, featuring moderately to extremely fast tempo and rapid succession of rhythmic patterns where each syllable corresponds to one note'," Mordin says. "Best-known human example probably the body of work of Gilbert and Sullivan."

[a_mere_child]

"Oh...kayyyyy." Alyx is silent for a long moment, digesting this. "Are you familiar with 'They Might Be Giants'?"

[pattersongs]

"Afraid not," Mordin admits. "Willing to listen, however."

[a_mere_child]

Okay. Alyx closes her eyes, takes a deep breath...

"The sun is a mass of incandescent gas,
A gigantic nuclear furnace,
Where hydrogen is built into helium
At a temperature of millions of degrees..."

[pattersongs]

Oh, now, this is considerably more promising than he'd expected. Mordin's already considerably wide eyes widen some more, and he leans forward to listen.

[a_mere_child]

"The sun is hot, the sun is not
A place where we could live.
But here on earth, there'd be no life
Without the light it gives.

We need its light, we need its heat,
We need its energy;
Without the sun, without a doubt,
There'd be no you and me!"

[pattersongs]

Mordin nods along with the music and at the end applauds. "Bit slower than anticipated, but subject matter eminently capable of making up for that," he says. "Acceptable. More than acceptable. What can I get you to drink?"

[a_mere_child]

"Hm... anything you'd recommend for a pregnant human? I mean, obviously I'm not going to have any alcohol..."

[pattersongs]

"Naturally not." Mordin thinks for a moment. "Question. Aware most adult humans not significantly lactose tolerant, small minority capable of digesting without difficulty. Would presence of lactose in beverages present an issue?"

[a_mere_child]

"I've never had any problem with milk products that I can remember."

[pattersongs]

"In that case, human members of Normandy crew strongly recommend Ontarom milkshake," says Mordin. "Native plant life produces excellent milk in local dairy animals- so I'm told, anyway. Couldn't digest milk without significant chemical assistance. Not part of salarian physiology. Preference as to flavor?"

[a_mere_child]

"Lessee, something fruity... orange, maybe? I've been craving citrus lately."

And, surprise surprise, there's none to be had in West Virginia in the dead of winter.

[pattersongs]

"Can be done," Mordin promises. "One moment, please."

It doesn't take long to produce the aforementioned drink. The blenders around here are excellent.

[a_mere_child]

Alyx accepts the drink and takes an experimental sip.

"Mmm. Very good. Thank you."

[pattersongs]

"Welcome. Glad to be of service."