The Times, They Are A-Changin'
Who: Garrus, open to Normandy haus.
Where: Normandy House
What: Garrus is human; hilarity ensues.
When: Afternoon.
Warnings: Possible anaphylactic shock, probably swearing, maybe violence.
Garrus had gone out on a routine perimeter sweep that morning. Nothing out of the ordinary had jumped out at him, so he'd caught a transporter on his way back. Stepping out of it had been a whole new experience. His legs didn't want to move in the right way, his vision seemed a bit blurry and more importantly, he had too many fingers. For a moment he had gaped at his hands - and then bolted for home. What the Hell was going on?
It wasn't a very pleasant run. His body kept moving in ways he wasn't quite used to, his stride was off. Everything took longer. But he made it. He clattered up the stairs (his boots even looked like they were made for human armor) and burst through the door into the little suite that they'd turned into Normandy central again. He didn't bother to greet anyone; there was a mirror in the bathroom.
Garrus stared, bringing an armored, gloved hand to his cheek, his mouth hanging open.
He was a human.
"...this has to be some sort of nightmare."
Where: Normandy House
What: Garrus is human; hilarity ensues.
When: Afternoon.
Warnings: Possible anaphylactic shock, probably swearing, maybe violence.
Garrus had gone out on a routine perimeter sweep that morning. Nothing out of the ordinary had jumped out at him, so he'd caught a transporter on his way back. Stepping out of it had been a whole new experience. His legs didn't want to move in the right way, his vision seemed a bit blurry and more importantly, he had too many fingers. For a moment he had gaped at his hands - and then bolted for home. What the Hell was going on?
It wasn't a very pleasant run. His body kept moving in ways he wasn't quite used to, his stride was off. Everything took longer. But he made it. He clattered up the stairs (his boots even looked like they were made for human armor) and burst through the door into the little suite that they'd turned into Normandy central again. He didn't bother to greet anyone; there was a mirror in the bathroom.
Garrus stared, bringing an armored, gloved hand to his cheek, his mouth hanging open.
He was a human.
"...this has to be some sort of nightmare."