The Times, They Are A-Changin'

[savor_last_shot]

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.

Comments

[cmdr_renegade]

Shepard had just managed to get the coffee into the machine when Garrus started yammering. She assumed it was him bitching about having five fingers until he started gasping and clawing at his throat. One look at the dextro nutrient paste next to his foot clarified the situation completely. Judging by the redness of face and the way he was flailing, he'd taken a healthy mouthful and had a pretty serious allergy to it

[cmdr_renegade]

"Don't plan on it," Shepard informed him with a short nod. She liked turians but had no urge to become one...assuming the situation wasn't more convoluted than that.

"Possible this will get fixed shortly," she added with a shrug. Statistically, this station had a habit of going insane for short periods of time and then being corrected. Only occasionally had she really needed to become directly involved. It might sort itself out. She didn't want to entertain the possibility of this being permanent, despite the inherent optimism in that refusal. Shepard was not optimistic, as a rule. However, this was going to get awkward and fast it it was permanent.

"I'll keep an eye on the network." Who was she kidding? It was already awkward. "I should go. See if anyone else experienced a...similar incident."

[savor_last_shot]

"Hope so. I like being a turian," Garrus grumbled. And that was the end of that particular line of thought, because the idea of being stuck as a human wasn't a particularly pleasant one. He ran hand through his hair (he had hair) and nodded.

"Same. I'll see you later, Shepard."