▐▐ ✕ :SPECTRE.

@arteriius is a dad who loves children and has a black hole heart but panics if he thinks he’s hurt his dotter tali ok

@arteriius replied to your post:

ew

good thing she has a supply of sticky notes for situations like these:

YOU’RE EW and rude

“I think they should. At least if they respect me in any way.” She sighed and closed her eyes, not minding the talons gently tapping her skin. “I wouldn’t want that either. If there’s someone who ought to control you then, well, it should be me.” There was a hint of certainty and nonchalance in her voice. “I think I’m pretty good at it.” She was well aware in the changes of his voice - she tended to listen to him rather attentively for two reasons. First, he was wise, experienced and usually had good ideas and advice. Second, turian voices were incredible in general and his… his own topped everything else.

Shepard herself definitely wasn’t a cushion person and it did show in more ways than one. But they were there and there was no point in throwing them out. She grabbed two or three of them and while sprawling on the couch she pushed them under her head. At first she kept her knees bent but after a moment of hesitation she placed them on his lap. He probably wouldn’t be bothered by it and the pain remained her she was supposed to keep them straightened more often than not. Perhaps she should get a bigger couch too.

“I think sooner or later they’ll forget about you. After all, you proved that you don’t pose a threat any longer and it’s not like there’s something that can indoctrinate you once more. If I were you, I’d avoid hypnosis sessions nonetheless.” It was a small joke on her part.

Normally she’d jab at him and telling that she was glad she didn’t have to hear him complaining but… not that time. That time she hardly had energy for anything. The pain still lingered here and there, even in the limb she lost. 

“No. If I don’t work, I’ll remain a cripple for the rest of my life. The last thing I need is pity. I’d rather be dead.” Sometime ago she thought she’d rather be dead anyway but with the work of her therapist and appropriate meds it was slightly easier to breath these days.

She slowly but surely approached the couch and sat on it. “I’ll write to them I’m requesting getting back the role of your supervisor again. They’re real pain in ass. Hopefully my last name will be more convincing than my medical record.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll place an order for dextro food. Don’t expect anything too fancy. Given the state the galaxy is in right now the turian supplies are limited.”

In the back of the room he could notice a wheelchair that wasn’t currently used. She was again pushing herself, trying to walk on her own even if she had to use a cane for that. It still felt better than being completely bedridden or bound to a chair. When she remained still, her mind was wandering so she moved to walk it off. Still, leaving the apartment was impossible for her in the moment. The devastated landscape, the crowds who kept looking at her, the noise. It wasn’t something she could deal with and she used the apartment as her own personal bunker.

And now she was standing in front of him, leaning heavily on the cane, with nothing but a t-shirt and shorts revealing the massive scarring covering her body along with the newest leg implants and and arm prosthesis. A pitiful state. Perhaps he might mock her later on.

    The  AGGRAVATION  is  painfully apparent  in  his  tone,  emphasized  then  by  the  grip  on  head,  the  SHOVE  towards  cover  that  has  teeth  clack  together  painfully,  but  following  his  order  to  keep  herself  from  the  line  of  fire.  A  fast  breath,  cold  hand  pushing  away  his  own,  silver  gaze  flicking  towards  him,  then  casting  a  quick  glance  towards  the  hallway  that  now  REEKS  of  death   &   smoldering  flesh.  Delicate  fingers  TWITCH,  pale  hair  sweeping  over  slim  shoulder  as  soft  chuckle  finds  itself  escaping  her.

                   ❝  Remind  me  to  not  get  on  your—  even  WORSE  side.  ❞        She’s  not  USED  to  working  with  people,  especially  not  one  as  disagreeable  as  the  TURIAN  SPECTRE  himself,  but  she  keeps  herself  from  releasing  any  further  comment  on  their  temporary  team-up.  A  quick  HUFF  falling  from  her  lips,  sweeping  away  the  fine  layer  of  dust  that  had  sprinkled  across  her  clothing  as  she  looks  towards  the  Spectre.        ❝  Might  I  suggest  making  QUICK  WORK  of  them ?  I’m  certain  you  have  much  more  pressing matters  to  be  concerned  about,  Saren.  ❞

        How  SWEET  her  smile  is  before  falling  into  a  straight  line,  eyes  darting  towards  the  loud  CRACK  as  the  edge  of  the  wall  they’re  keeping  themselves  behind  shatters  off  at  the  impact  from  the  fired  weapon  from  the  enemy. Pensive  hum  filling  the  air  just  as  a  shimmering  silver  warps  the  air  around  her,  stretching  across  the  room  in  steady,  wave-like  RIPPLE..        ❝  Whether  you  like  it  or  not,  some  help  wouldn’t  hurt  you.  ❞        Another  earsplitting  CRACK,  a  fine  film  of  dust  falling  ‘pon  her  head  to  which  she  reacts  with  a  slight  shake.        ❝  But  now  those  guns  might  be  a  different  story.  ❞        She  gives  him  an  expectant  stare,  slender  brow  quirking  as  a  SCREAM  carries  through  the  air  [  unexpected,  SUDDEN,  but  played  off  by  the  woman  as  if  she  had  done  nothing  to  be  the  cause  of  it  ]. 

            ❝  You’ll  get  through  them  quicker  with  someone  else  guarding  your  back.  ❞

         There is no TIME to scrutinize the saccharine smile directed at him, nor is there time to process the lustrous UNDULATION of light that cocoons her beneath raining dust before it is UNLEASHED on some sorry, unfortunate soul ( BIOTICS ---- no --- he has seen them enough to know to distinguish them ). Instead, an ACRIMONIOUS hiss seethes from betwixt salient teeth, the fury and indignance better suited to MACHINES OF WAR pinning her to the spot ( a silent command --- STAY HERE ), before he moves with terrifying purpose, grown weary of this meaningless squabble. ‘Round the corner, a TORRENT of fire greeting him as an OLD FRIEND ( but no --- he does not flinch, does not cringe, this is something he has seen TIME AND TIME AGAIN ... ), he strides, rounds bouncing off the shields of his armor, the barrel of the pistol finding one head, two heads, three heads, they ALL fall down ---

@arteriius

“You know you can actually stay here, right? It’s enormous.” Shepard pointed at the apartment. “I have a guest room with an additional bathroom so perhaps we wouldn’t have to see each other for days despite living at the same place. If it’s required, that is.” She knew how the barracks can be cramped. She knew him enough to know he preferred more solitary options. Without people staring. “It’s not like you have lots of belongings to move around anyway.”