I wrote this before I decided that getting seriously wasted was not enough to bring about Feral-Tali. For those of you who do not know, according to Calinstel, the founder of the unified quarian fan-canon, a quarian's forebrain will shut down and attempt to repair whenever it is damaged, leaving the primitive hindbrain in control. Originally, this was to occur whenever there is a brain injury, a serious concussion, or heavy drinking. This fan-canon came out before ME3.
Since then, we've all learned that Tali is a bit of a lush. To resolve this, I have modified my [version of Calinstel's] fan-canon so that a quarian will only become feral when there is a brain injury, serious concussion, or drinking to the point of almost dying. You can say that a quarian will turn temporarily (maybe permanently?) feral whenever a human might lapse into a coma.
Tali did NOT get that drunk in my story, and I was consequently forced to remove this scene.
"Come on, Tali, wake up," said John, rubbing his head with one hand and his fiancé's rear-end with the other.
He gave her a light slap on one butt-cheek for good measure, eliciting a low growl from the young quarian. That brought a smile to his face.
"Fine," he said, "Another five minutes then you have to get the heck up. It's our shift." He felt a little guilty for letting her drink so much, but not enough to let her sleep in. It was already zero seven-hundred, and they'd missed physical training for the morning. As far as he was concerned, the whole thing had been her own fault, anyway. He was pretty sure he remembered doing his part and trying to cut her off.
He passed the next six minutes putting his armor on, receiving not a word or hint of movement from his quarian beau, save for the rise and fall of her chest in concert with her soft snoring. He'd been more than fair with her, he figured. It was time to tickle.
"This is your last chance, Tals," he said, walking over to the bed.
She let out a soft growl and rolled onto her side. Shaking his head to himself, the Spectre took a seat next to her and scooped up one of her feet, placing it in his lap. Without further delay, he began feverishly dancing the tips of his fingers across the sole of her foot.
The foot in question shot out, boots gaining traction on his jaw. The force sent his head reeling and his body following it to the ground. He hit the carpet with a heavy thump, his fall more the result of surprise than of force she used. It would have been enough to break the jaw of an un-augmented human, he figured, but with him it only managed to hurt like hell.
Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, John brought a hand to his lips. Fingertips came away warm and wet with blood. He started to get up, upset that he'd have to explain yet another injury at the hands of his fiancé to his sister. "Tali, what the hell did you-?"
John stopped himself short, gulping back the words in his throat.
...
I feel something wrong, it's irritating me. Something is on my foot. Something has me!
Tali opened her eyes and quicker than she could process, she struck out with her foot, felling the something in a single blow. She was at an awkward angle, had just awoken, and felt slowed somehow, but she managed to get it off her, away from her.
Her vision began to tunnel as she stared at it, snarling at it to let it know it needed to keep its distance. It was big. Probably as tall as she was, maybe a little taller even, but it had to much heavier than her. Heavier meant stronger. Its hind legs ended in strange black hooves. Its forelegs were slender and blunt. Its lips retracted to reveal flat teeth. Definitely an herbivore then. Large and probably male, but unquestionably prey. Alone, it might be able to hurt her, but were even a single additional member of her pack here, she was sure they could kill it. It would feed her and her kin until bursting, and they would all be grateful to her. She suddenly felt hungry, like she had fed in days.
She looked around and saw no others of her kind. That was bad. The beast before her was as likely to charge and trample her as it was to flee. There would be no meal today, she feared. She decided that if it came any closer, her next blow would do more damage, along with however many added blows it would take to kill the creature.
She took up a fighting stance, on all fours, fingers and claws digging into the very soft ground where she had bedded down for the night, legs taught beneath her like a coiled spring ready to send her into a flying pounce. But her claws refused to dig into the soft material. The were trapped inside something. Did that creature do something to her? She tore her eyes from the recovering animal to examine her feet, but a far more important concern crossed her mind first.
My mate! Where is my mate?!
The creature barked at her, interrupting her train of thought and causing her to jump in place. A low growl poured from her throat, slowing growing in volume.
Did I go from my mate to bring him food? Do I also have a family to feed? I KNOW I own a mate and I feel like he was with me when I last bedded down... Did this thing do something with him? My mind is painful. No images come when they should. Did it hurt me? Did it hurt my mate?! Where is he?! I should bite and claw it now... I will bite and claw it until it stops moving. But it's big...
She hissed and spat at the thing, her growl becoming a harsh snarl. The thing took a step back from her.
Good. It has fear of me. Fear is weakness. It is easy to kill a weak thing.
She kept advancing to the edge of the nest that she didn't remember building the night before. She didn't remember much of anything really, except the scent of her mate, which was currently absent. What had happened?
The creature kept backing way on two legs, sticking one of its paws out at her and barking, painfully loud. She snarled at it and it jumped back. Sensing its fear, she pounced... And landed flat on her face.
Why did my leap fail? Why did my teeth and claws fail? It felt right until it didn't... What's happening? My claws won't dig in! What's going on?!
The beast had backed off even more, barking even louder this time. It seemed familiar somehow, the barks, the shape of the creature. Had she fought this thing before? She couldn't remember, but she doubted it. The noise, it agitated her greatly, told her something was very, very wrong, warned her, but it was somehow comforting.
The barking creature had backed itself against a wall now. It hardly seemed like any kind of threat. Her mate was still missing, but now she doubted it had fought this creature. Not only was there no stink of blood anywhere in this cave, but her mate would have at least presented some kind of challenge to this cowardly beast. Where was he? This was all so confusing to her.
She spared a moment to examine her less-than-functional feet and was shocked at what she saw.
Something is eating my claws! There's something covering them!
Here eyes traced their way up her legs, to her torso, then her arms. Panic gripped her. She hadn't noticed it before, but she had been encased in something tight and confining. Feeling her face, she howled in terror. It was there too, but worse. She could feel through the confining material on her body, but not around her head. It was hard and cold, closing in on her, all around her. How had she not noticed it before? It was almost like she was used to it.
It's eating me! I need my mate! Mate, where are you! Come to me, NOW!
She began screaming and howling for her mate, all the while clawing and gnashing her teeth at whatever was surrounding her. Her fingers dug into the material, grabbing hold and yanking for dear life. She rolled about the floor, the foreign creature forgotten, screaming at the top of he lungs and using all her strength to tear at the unyielding fabric. When that failed, she started digging at the hard shell that encased her head, finally deciding to repeatedly bash her face into the floor in the hopes of freeing herself.
Where are you?! My mate come to me I need your help! Please, PLEASE, where are you?! I'm going to die here! Please! Please don't be dead! PLEASE BE ALIVE!
The large and cowardly creature completely gone from her thoughts, she failed to notice it's swift approach until it had seized her head in its large but nimble paws. As her face was in the process of being eaten by something, she didn't feel it, of course. She should have expected it. It was only natural that the beast would try to take advantage of her in such a time of great distress.
She was about to kick it away again when something surprising happened. Her vision cleared when she hadn't known it had been jaded, allowing the bright light of the cave to enter her eyes for the first time. Too stunned to react properly, she allowed the barking creature to retreat back. Instead, she brought a hand to her face. Sure enough, she could feel it. Not the sides, but the important parts. Her mouth, eyes, nose, faysakt, and cheeks were all there. And something more. The smell. Her mate's smells was there, fresh and strong, strong with the stink of fear.
I need my mate, now! He is hurt! Did this beast hurt you? I will kill it, but I need to find you first.
Her nostrils flared, brow wrinkled, and lips curled into a snarl. Her predicament all but forgotten, her entire focus now lay with finding her mate. He was close, that was for sure. He might be wounded and unable to respond to her cries. She howled for him again. The beast barked at her again. A painful, worried bark that somehow hurt her heart, yet comforted her at the same time. What was that about?
She howled for her mate again, longer, slower, softer.
It barked back, also softer and slower. It made her feel good. And safe? She took a careful step to the animal and her mate's smell intensified. Was it coming from this creature?
A third time she called for mate, this time no more than a soft chirp. He called back, softly and soothing. She stepped toward him. His smell filled her nostrils, not fearful anymore, but anxious and worried.
Yes, this is my mate. MINE.
...
"Tali, seriously, just relax. You are not okay right now."
She let out a soft growl, making little chirping noises. It would have been cute were John not worried that he was about to get mauled to death by his future wife. She had seemed to calm down a bit since he had taken off her mask, though. Remembering the last time he had seem something like this, when Seera had had a traumatic brain injury, Kal had gone blind, and he had lost his hands, he had a suspicion of how to fix this.
The quarian marine had told him that he had taken Seera into a clean-room and removed both their masks. Something about the fear of the suit and his scent. At the moment, Tali didn't seem to be improving much even sans mask. Maybe it took time?
"Hey, Tals, it's okay, you're gonna be okay, I promise. I'm here for you," he replied to her chirping.
That seemed to work. She started to cautiously gain ground toward him, tipping her head to the ceiling and increasing the frequency of her sniffing. Again, it would have been absolutely adorable if not for the immanent danger.
Suddenly she stopped moving and sniffing, her body tensing up. She looked at him in a way that he recognized, but in this context meant something completely different. Her mouth parted slightly, exposing her very human-like tongue and truly inhuman canines. She licked her lips and gave him a feral smile, the facial expression again taking on a whole other meaning now. It was hunger, and she was about to pounce. John Shepard was about to be mauled, die, and then be eaten by the one person he loved most in the galaxy. Hopefully occurring in exactly that order.
Like a she was coiled spring made of lightning, Tali launched herself at the Spectre.
"Tali don't-!"
He fell to the ground, all the wind knocked out of him by the lean an heavy quarian. Her long and sharp teeth found his neck. He closed his eyes and readied his fist to swing at her. Not a moment too soon he realized that although the teeth pinched, they had yet to draw blood.
Instead, her tongue lashed out against his sensitive skin. And kept lashing. Along his neck, collar bone, up his Adam's apple, along his chin and face it traveled, licking deeper and harder. He knew it well; it felt rough, not quite like a cat's, but it was very pleasant nonetheless. She was still growling, or was it a loud purr? He couldn't tell. He hadn't needed to punch her across the room and she wasn't sinking her fangs into his flesh. That was all that mattered.
Her thighs and arms tensed around him, locking him into place. He was stuck, and at the moment that wasn't a bad thing.
...
"Mmmm... My head hurts," said Tali. She started climbing off her human, then took in her surroundings. "John, why are we on the floor?"
"Whoa, shit, you okay?" he asked. She seemed normal, but one could never be too sure.
"Yeah, I'm- My voice!" Tali squeaked. She brought a hand to her missing vocalizer, finding her lips instead. "My mask! What happened?"
"I think you had too much to drink," he said, climbing to his feet, "You turned... feral, I guess. I saw something like that happen to Seera once, when she was knocked out cold."
"I... I went yilaum do vis raen tyst? Oh, Ancestors, no..." she said, picking up her mask from the floor. She ran to the bathroom to clean it, speaking as she pumped disinfectant cleaner onto it. "I didn't hurt anyone, did I?"
"No, but you sure scared the crap out of me," he replied, moving toward their cabin door. "So, it's around eleven-hundred and we're both ridiculously late. I'll see you in an hour for lunch."
"It's what time?!" Tali screamed, "I- I'm so sorry! I've never been late before! I'll make up the lost time, I'll do anything, extra duty, scrubbing the heads, anything! Please don't put this in my record!"
"Relax," said John, palming the door, "Lia covered for you. We haven't had a hard burn since we left the Fleet. There was nothing for you to do, anyway."
"Are you saying I'm not needed?! Oh, Ancestors-!"
Whatever Tali had to say after that was cut off when John walked out the door and it automatically closed behind him. After he father's death, her lover's maiming, and a night of drinking like that, she could use the break anyway. He made a mental note to more carefully monitor her alcohol intake if she ever drank again. More importantly, he would remember to take Kal's advice from all those years ago. Never wake a quarian knocked unconscious, even if that meant using sedatives.