Or at least that's what Garrus tells himself, anyway. After all, there are worse things than getting stuck in a room so luxurious it'd make even the asari consort feel completely out of place. He's fairly certain he's seen senators in smaller quarters.
And that the station's been going a little haywire's common knowledge by this point. (Yesterday the pantry sealed shut on him for twenty minutes, while the unlucky explorer just next door was trapped for well over an hour before Garrus could figure out how to crack through the lock.) Minor pain in the ass, but whatever, it's not the worst he's put up with for the sake of tracking down some solid information.
So for the moment he's currently meandering around the far corner of the room, just beside a window lit by a near blinding synthetic sky.]
Just out of curiosity, it's not a bad idea to drink something left behind on an abandoned ship if it looks expensive, right?
[After three days spent moving through the eerily vacant station - room after empty room abandoned mid-stride, punctuated only by the flicker of some far off shadow or the hiss of something near her ear - she'd probably be willing to admit that no, being stuck in a luxuriously appointed suite isn't the worst thing she can imagine. But Shepard's also not sure that anyone's ever described her as 'imaginative' before either.
Case in point: the moment they discovered the door had jammed itself, she'd set herself to tinkering around with the control panel despite her own woeful lack of any kind of engineering or hacking ability. How hard could it be to override a simple door control, right? She's been standing there for a while, trying to equivalent of 'turning it off and then on again,' and barely tips her head in Garrus' direction when he speaks up.]
Just because you can put everything in your mouth now doesn't mean you should.
You've been keeping track? [Who is she kidding? This is Garrus 'I probably have a collection of hatch marks representing everyone I've sniped' Vakarian. Of course he's been keeping track.]
Anyway if we don't get this door open soon, you might be closer to finding out.
Not that I doubt your judgment, commander [It's a disclaimer out of habit: he respects her, despite the fact that she's not-- well, that they're not exactly--
She's different here. In some ways more than others, but whatever the cause or reason, she's still Shepard. Dismissing that just seems wrong.] but they've been doing that for days. Sitting down for an hour or two won't kill you.
--Unless you're allergic. Which would explain a lot, actually.
[Which is precisely the same moment the door controls choose to short out, sparking from the wall panel. Shepard makes an undignified noise - more surprised than hurt - and jerks her hand away.]
Son of a--
[There's a low noise that reverberates through the entire suite as the atmosphere shifts, either as a side effect from the short or from something else all together. But there's no denying that it's suddenly become a touch less climate as the heat begins to drain from the air.]
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Shapper: Cyllene | Day 4
Or at least that's what Garrus tells himself, anyway. After all, there are worse things than getting stuck in a room so luxurious it'd make even the asari consort feel completely out of place. He's fairly certain he's seen senators in smaller quarters.
And that the station's been going a little haywire's common knowledge by this point. (Yesterday the pantry sealed shut on him for twenty minutes, while the unlucky explorer just next door was trapped for well over an hour before Garrus could figure out how to crack through the lock.) Minor pain in the ass, but whatever, it's not the worst he's put up with for the sake of tracking down some solid information.
So for the moment he's currently meandering around the far corner of the room, just beside a window lit by a near blinding synthetic sky.]
Just out of curiosity, it's not a bad idea to drink something left behind on an abandoned ship if it looks expensive, right?
Re: Shapper: Cyllene | Day 4
Case in point: the moment they discovered the door had jammed itself, she'd set herself to tinkering around with the control panel despite her own woeful lack of any kind of engineering or hacking ability. How hard could it be to override a simple door control, right? She's been standing there for a while, trying to equivalent of 'turning it off and then on again,' and barely tips her head in Garrus' direction when he speaks up.]
Just because you can put everything in your mouth now doesn't mean you should.
no subject
[Garrus takes a step or two over towards the nightstand, lifting an obviously well-crafted decanter filled with something dark and red and wine-ish.
Or blood. It could also be blood.]
So far the record's two hundred and fifty-six to zero. How you humans keep from starving, Shepard, is beyond me.
no subject
Anyway if we don't get this door open soon, you might be closer to finding out.
no subject
She's different here. In some ways more than others, but whatever the cause or reason, she's still Shepard. Dismissing that just seems wrong.] but they've been doing that for days. Sitting down for an hour or two won't kill you.
--Unless you're allergic. Which would explain a lot, actually.
no subject
Son of a--
[There's a low noise that reverberates through the entire suite as the atmosphere shifts, either as a side effect from the short or from something else all together. But there's no denying that it's suddenly become a touch less climate as the heat begins to drain from the air.]