@stxsis - for Chakwas.

The tell-tale sound of hydraulics opening the medical bay doors does not yet draw the good doctor away from her data pad; gloved fingers scroll to the next page in her most recent medical report. But, it's the Commander's tone that gets her attention, looking up just enough from the edge of the pad to bring her into view.

"Again, Shepard?" Karin teases with just a hint of sarcasm, although nothing truly surprises her anymore. Not with the Commander. Not in the middle of war, either.

As she registers the first few words, Jack’s fingers curl up in anger, just shy of clenching into fists. I don’t know what your problem with Cerberus is. Words threatening enough to set Jack on edge. There is a brief clench of her jaw too, a fleeting scowl on her face. Jack couldn’t even fathom how to possibly explain what her problem with Cerberus was. ‘Problem’ was a poor choice of words, anyway, one that pissed her off. She finds that it downplayes what she’s been through. Makes it sound like the kind of quarrel she typically has with law enforcement. Her troubles with Cerberus run deeper than that. Run so deep that it had shaped her into who she was. A woman who carried an insufferable amount of anger inside her. A woman plagued by a childhood of horrifying memories. Of isolation, of torture.

At this very moment, she wants to snap at Shepard. Go and tell her to fuck herself. But before Jack has the chance to do so, the Commander mentions that she doesn’t have to justify anything to her. The muscles in her jaw and hands loosen. She misjudged. Jack had a feeling that Shepard sought to defend them.

She crosses her tattooed arms. “About damn time someone doesn’t buy their bullshit.” A sharp exhale follows. Jack doesn’t see a friend in Shepard, but she’s relieved to know that she’s not defending them. Even better, she considers them an enemy. “I was getting tired of all the Cerberus cunts on this ship.” She adds.

this was random , always accepting , @stxsis .

it's not that she simply kept it, it's the fact that liara could not bare to part with it. it was in tatters and she only restored what was needed to permanently keep it together but ... how could she ever get rid of it? she had felt like a widow torn, exactly like someone that had lost a big chunk of their life and now they're picking up the pieces and holding it all together.

liara remembers the exact moment she held that armor in her hands. the way it felt. THE WAY IT ACHED.

... except that her face is a little too neutral when blue eyes peer up from the computer she's working at. lips pursed. even her eyes seemed to lack the emotional capability she usually holds. that's just liara keeping her head sane and heart safe. it's not that she doesn't trust shepard, she absolutely does, she just doesn't trust she won't get her heart torn to shreds again. at least initially, each conversation only takes a few minutes to warm up to again before she's showing emotion.

He was visiting his son while they were aboard the Citadel. Kolyat had left C-Sec and was now mentoring as a Spectre under a large, blue drell name Neo Draek. A man that he had come to respect.

He glanced down at his OT when it flashed. He flipped it on. He flipped it off nearly as fast as it had come on, careful to keep his features schooled. He made a quick excuse to his son about his wife needing his help with something.

At his son's arched brow-ridge and slight smirk, he maintained his stoic expression, with little more than a blink. But he did hug his son, bid him farewell and depart as quickly as nonchalance would allow for. 

Once out the door, he slipped into the shadows and used the vent system to reach their Citadel flat. He peered down through the slats, admiring the sight of her briefly. With a push of the vent panel he dropped into the bedroom. A flash of biotics pushed the panel back into place.