Dude looks like a lady.
Who: Garrus Vakarian(turian_honor) & OPEN
When: A long while after the Post Of WTF
Where: Cafeteria, moving toward Craft Room Thing
Rating: PG13 to be safe and I dunno what to rate anything anymore
Summary: Fem!Garrus confronts human food for the first time.
Warnings: None
The posting fervor appeared to have died down somewhat. It was the only reason why he'd--and there was absolutely no way he was referring to himself with a feminine pronoun in any language--decided it was safe enough to venture out into the halls. The memory of what had happened was dulled now, by virtue of making plans, and trying to sort through the jumble of information, both mundane and non.
Not to mention these damned clothes.
Aran's were alternately too large in one area, and too form-fitting in another. He knew the hardsuits were designed to cling tight to a body, but not even Alliance uniforms stuck that close to the skin. He'd... reluctantly... taken a shirt, only to find it gaped awkwardly in the front. Isley's fit much better, despite being too short for his torso. Li's pants were, thankfully, loose as hell, and just long enough. And he wasn't even going to try finding footware.
However, parts of the set confused the hell out of him. What was he supposed to do with the thing with the straps? He'd left that off, in favor of slipping down to grab some food before anyone poked their heads out and saw him. Not to mention, he needed paint. Or even a marker. Something to put his mark back on.
As expected, the tiles were painfully cold on his feet, and the soft human skin twitched upon touching it. Garrus swore quietly to himself, holding on to the handrail as he went. So far... so good. No one had seen him...
At least, it had all been according to plan until he hit the cafeteria, and dumbly realized he had absolutely no idea which pile of food was on the "safe list", and which was not.
When: A long while after the Post Of WTF
Where: Cafeteria, moving toward Craft Room Thing
Rating: PG13 to be safe and I dunno what to rate anything anymore
Summary: Fem!Garrus confronts human food for the first time.
Warnings: None
The posting fervor appeared to have died down somewhat. It was the only reason why he'd--and there was absolutely no way he was referring to himself with a feminine pronoun in any language--decided it was safe enough to venture out into the halls. The memory of what had happened was dulled now, by virtue of making plans, and trying to sort through the jumble of information, both mundane and non.
Not to mention these damned clothes.
Aran's were alternately too large in one area, and too form-fitting in another. He knew the hardsuits were designed to cling tight to a body, but not even Alliance uniforms stuck that close to the skin. He'd... reluctantly... taken a shirt, only to find it gaped awkwardly in the front. Isley's fit much better, despite being too short for his torso. Li's pants were, thankfully, loose as hell, and just long enough. And he wasn't even going to try finding footware.
However, parts of the set confused the hell out of him. What was he supposed to do with the thing with the straps? He'd left that off, in favor of slipping down to grab some food before anyone poked their heads out and saw him. Not to mention, he needed paint. Or even a marker. Something to put his mark back on.
As expected, the tiles were painfully cold on his feet, and the soft human skin twitched upon touching it. Garrus swore quietly to himself, holding on to the handrail as he went. So far... so good. No one had seen him...
At least, it had all been according to plan until he hit the cafeteria, and dumbly realized he had absolutely no idea which pile of food was on the "safe list", and which was not.