A THREE HEADED DOG.

WASTELAND ,     BABY .       accepting .       @turianrebel​ 

THE ONLY THING ON THIS PLANET THAT ISN'T SILVER ARE THE TURIANS. IT'S ALL TOO CLEAR THEY'RE MADE OF STEEL.         that was the quote .    jon grissom’s assessment had proved apt since her arrival on the turian homeworld .    the architecture is sharp and strange ,    and the heat makes some deserts on earth look damn near frigid ,    but there’s something     ---    lovely about it ,   too ,     in the way only something so utterly different ,    alien ,    could be lovely .    she admires plenty of things about the turians ,    their culture and their hard - earned place as the galaxy’s peacekeepers    --    for lack of a better term .     humanity could learn a lot from them ,    if they were to try .    but more than that ,     for now she appreciates the distinct lack of humans present on palaven .    cerberus operations here were minimal ,    and limited almost entirely to intelligence gathering in the form of hackers safe systems away .    it’s easier to ply at the citadel and within the alliance than to set up any real operations here      ---     not that cerberus is interested in palaven beyond the potential risks it poses and the information it holds .      she stuck out rather harshly at the dock .     humans rarely made the trek here ,    most of them alliance officials .     they saw even less humans that looked like her .    her     ---      false     ---     identification papers  had been turned over by more than one official ,     but they’d cleared her eventually .    the irony is near painful :    she’s likely safer here than she has been in months .    

tracking down garrus  had been almost too easy after that .    she’d considered not seeking him out ,     passing through without ever alerting him to her presence .     perhaps he hadn’t been interested in anything beyond a short term fling ,    half driven by the uncomfortable reality that the collector base could have very well become their tomb .     if that were the case ,     he wouldn’t hear from her again ,     and she wouldn’t have given him the satisfaction of seeing disappointment cross her brow .     but she’d wanted to see him ,      almost frighteningly so .     shortly after making up her mind ,     she stole into his then - empty residence ,    and even helped herself to his shower .    between the grime of the journey and the heat ,     he couldn’t stop her if he tried .     standing in front of him now ,     however ,     she feels      ...      unprepared ,     and the discomfort of that curls under her skin ,    carves into the usual confidence she maintains .    

she wonders if he’ll notice the small signs of wear and tear .     living on the run was romantic in theory ,     but better left to romance novels and star - crossed lovers .    cerberus is a cruel hound ,     and the strain of dodging them shows in small ways :     the bruises beneath her eyes ,    the slight gaunt of her cheeks ,     a scabbed - over cut at the corner of her forehead from a fight ,    one to seven .     these minor imperfections were never present before ,    even in the midst of chaos aboard the SR -  2 .     her hair is still damp when he arrives ,    dripping down the length of her spine ,    and she’s thumbing over everything in the space with a prying hand and curious eyes .    she’s tense throughout the initial reunion ,    composure held with a careful expression and a soft ,    but invulnerable tone .     it’s only when he makes that declaration that she relaxes into a warmer creature ,    with an uncut smile to match .            ❝        is that so ?          ❞        she hums ,     stepping toward him slowly .     her arms come to cross ,    and she clenches her hands around her arms to keep them from fidgeting .            ❝          did you miss me ?           ❞           a tease ,     but she can’t help sounding pleased .