[ log ]
Who: Garrus Vakarian, Nihlus Kyrik and Commander Thaddea Shepard
What: Nihlus, aren't you supposed to be dead? :(
Where: Chasca, aboard a grounded Normandy
When: m-morning. It's hot.
[ And then, suddenly, the anger simply seemed to... vanish.
Garrus opened two small, pale eyes not to the familiar ceiling of whatever safehouse Fallon had stored him in, strapped to the bed with his scales shredding at the linens beneath his back. He was very comfortably in his familiar C-Sec uniform, reclined at an easy angle in his claustrophobic sleeping capsule.
Breathing relatively easy, for once. Comfortable. And yet not sedated-- he drew from sleep easily, not sluggishly, immediately aware that all his hunger and fatigue still remained but the rage, somehow, is gone.
Is he back? He glances to either side of the tinted glass, seeing no one. Just an empty row of capsules.
He hits the disengage switch with a padded forearm and climbs the hell out.
The next thing he notices is that this is natural gravity. He crosses the gangway toward the mess lightly, passes two of the below-deck crew and parts his mouth to say something, ask, but--
It's around then that he feels the familiar weight of the device in a compartment of his suit.
And that a little dark German shepard is still following him.
He tries to close the elevator doors behind him but it hops into the car. He scrutinizes it carefully on the slow ride down to the cargo bay. He debates simply not acknowledging it.
The elevator car stops; the door slides down. And a gust of hot, natural air rushes in.
It's a beautiful day on an alien world. ]
What: Nihlus, aren't you supposed to be dead? :(
Where: Chasca, aboard a grounded Normandy
When: m-morning. It's hot.
[ And then, suddenly, the anger simply seemed to... vanish.
Garrus opened two small, pale eyes not to the familiar ceiling of whatever safehouse Fallon had stored him in, strapped to the bed with his scales shredding at the linens beneath his back. He was very comfortably in his familiar C-Sec uniform, reclined at an easy angle in his claustrophobic sleeping capsule.
Breathing relatively easy, for once. Comfortable. And yet not sedated-- he drew from sleep easily, not sluggishly, immediately aware that all his hunger and fatigue still remained but the rage, somehow, is gone.
Is he back? He glances to either side of the tinted glass, seeing no one. Just an empty row of capsules.
He hits the disengage switch with a padded forearm and climbs the hell out.
The next thing he notices is that this is natural gravity. He crosses the gangway toward the mess lightly, passes two of the below-deck crew and parts his mouth to say something, ask, but--
It's around then that he feels the familiar weight of the device in a compartment of his suit.
And that a little dark German shepard is still following him.
He tries to close the elevator doors behind him but it hops into the car. He scrutinizes it carefully on the slow ride down to the cargo bay. He debates simply not acknowledging it.
The elevator car stops; the door slides down. And a gust of hot, natural air rushes in.
It's a beautiful day on an alien world. ]