It's Like an Unwieldy Mop

Living outside of the suit is more difficult and tedious that I ever thought.

Or maybe I am just pouting too much.

Keelah, look at me now—I'm a mess. In the mirror stared back something that I'm still trying to get used to. A spill of black hair drenches the right side of my face as I am still trapped in our bathroom, taken hostage by the everyday tasks an unsuited person must conquer. Behind me is Shepard, a ripping grin slashed across his face and eyes wild with glistening mania. A glint of savage hunger flickers in both eyes and in his right fist is a tool as sharp as my trusty knife carried throughout my harrowing journeys.

My heart is at a full sprint, pounding and throbbing and jerking.

"Slow down," I whisper.

"What?"

I cannot take it.

Keelah, I cannot do it.

"Wait, stop," I shouted, turning in my chair, gripping Shepard's two wrists with a feverish intensity.

"Stop?"

"Yeah, stop. You heard me right. I don't think I can do this."

"Tali, it's just a hair cut," he said, the grin wiggling into a disappointed grimace.

"Why do I need it cut anyways?" I asked stupidly.

I already knew the answer to his reply before it snaked from between his tight lips.

"Well, just yesterday, you told me it was getting annoying. You hated it 'tickling your face'."

"I have spent twenty-five years of my life with the wonderful sensation of having nothing touch my face."

My eyebrows knitted together and I blinked furiously, crossed both arms, and reasserted myself in the chair situated before the mirror over our Jack and Jill sinks.

"So?" asked Shepard.

"So what?"

"Are we going to do this?"

I was silent and chewed on my tongue.

"Eating your mouth is not an option, Tali."

"I'm thinking," I pouted.

"Out of all the decisions we have made, this is the one we get caught up on."

"Yup."

"You're acting like a child," smiled Shepard.

"No I'm not," I lied.

"Yes you are."

I breathed air from the corner of my mouth and shifted my head, analyzing my own hair. It had grown unwieldy over the past months and I found the way it clogged the shower drain to be repulsive and unsanitary. Poor Shepard had to deal with it as well.

Hair.

What a waste of time. For the first few days, I actually enjoyed mine—loved the way it looked, loved it even more when Shepard gently played with it.

"I miss my suit," I exclaimed. "It saved so much time. For instance, I could be doing something productive right now while it tended to my hair."

"Let me just snip it," ushered Shepard, brushing my shoulder. "I won't go crazy."

"No."

Shepard sighed and said, "I can always call Garrus over to do it."

"That's suicide," I said.

I slapped his hand on my shoulder.

Shepard was the harbinger of this approaching atrocity. If there were barbershops set up on Rannoch, I would have willingly gone to one, but with us rebuilding the planet, cosmetic shops catered to a quarian's appearances were on the lower half of the list. My suit was but a lament ghost hidden in the recesses of my closet—metaphorically concealed like my memories of The War. I was almost tempted to just put it back on, though I would miss the feel of wind and all of that other romantic stuff. This whole ordeal was turning our relationship turbulent. The time to act was now.

Grow up, Tali.

I pointed at the closely trimmed stubble atop Shepard's head and said: "I like your hair cut."

"Mine?" he asked, stuffing a finger into his chest. I chuffed softly and kneeled on the chair and pawed the top of his head.

"Yeah, you. I think it's sexy."

"You want my kind of haircut?"

"Sure. Jack looked kick ass with a buzz cut."

"She was completely bald back then."

I smirked and said, "You know what I mean."

"Well you did say you hated the feeling of hair."

"It's too hard to take care of."

"And it's disgusting in the shower," he commented.

"Yeah, eet ees."

There was a moment of silence between us and I sensed an air of mastery in the room which wasn't coming from me. Behind that devious grin of Shepard's, his chest bulged and he grabbed me with one arm, becoming a ruthless autocrat. At that very moment, I knew I had made a mistake.

"I am going to cut your hair right now," he declared and grabbed his electric buzzer.

I won't lie, I was nervous. The hair I had now was nice to look at with all of those waves Kasumi went nuts over, but who am I kidding? I have never been a girl of appearances, but of functionality. It's not like I am going to be seeing anyone anytime soon since we are kind of held up in our house, still trying to calm our nerves from The War and waiting for society to rebuild.

"Keelah, it really has gotten long, hasn't it?" I asked him through the mirror as he put my hair into a ponytail. Remember, I have been wearing a suit basically my entire life. It took care of me—pampered me without my acknowledgement. I can remember retaking Rannoch with Shepard and the first damn I thing I did was take off my mask.

I softly laughed.

I was so anxious to get my suit off—so eagerly awaiting to act... well, normal. The suited life has been irrevocably etched into my memory and now it seemed to be haunting me. I thought the suit was a burden, a leaded necklace attached to my abilities that anchored me to the bottom of the fallacious galactic caste system.

"Do it," I spat.

This loathsome hair had to be abolished—the vibrating shears the spark of a revolution to come. I am the master of my new body and it was time I took the reins to steer my chariot the way I saw fit.

"Are you sure, Tali?" asked Shepard over the silky drone of the buzzer.

"Roger that. Lop it all off."

I watched with ominous intent as Shepard bit his lip and with a cautious haste, pushed the buzzer behind my skull. The toothed bit kissed the nape of my neck.

"Eet tickles!" I squealed.

"Hold still, Tali!"

"I'm tr-tr-tr-trying!" My laugh was hellacious, tears rimming my eyelids. The metal teeth smoothly gnawed through my hair and I shut my eyes, horrified of the outcome.

What have I gotten myself into?

The buzzer's baritone voice sung to the depths of my head and tickled the inside of my ears as it brushed over the crest of my head and ended at my hairline, its pitch tapering to a high note.

My lids were sewn shut by eyelashes, voice mute with terror, and body petrified into a granite statue.

"I gave you an inverted Mohawk," said Shepard.

"I'm too scared to look."

"Don't, you look terrifying."

"Don't say that!"

Shepard laughed and continued to free me of the tangled mop atop my head. I took a peek, which was a mistake. Hair sat on my lap like thick black rats that scurried to the tiled floor around my feet when I wacked at the clumps. I stamped my feet and shut my eyes, screaming, "Get eet over with! Get eet over with!"

"I'm trying!"

"Go faster!"

The buzzer clicked off and I took solace in the new quiet.

"Oh man," punctuated Shepard. "Oh, you look good," he said, rubbing my shoulders.

"I can't look."

With both curious hands, I blindly groped my scalp and all I felt was a stretching field of silky prickles. I had to observe what Shepard had done to me, to see what kind of haircut felt this good. Unlacing my eyelashes, I met my own bright eyes in the mirror, though they were dimmed with a dark patina of anguish. My heart threw itself against its ivory cage.

You think I didn't like it?

Wrong.

"Oh, it looks great!" I exclaimed, sitting from the chair and brushing the hair off my lap into vast dark piles at my feet. "I can feel the air on my scalp. That's a new sensation!"

"Just make sure you don't overdo it on the shampoo and conditioner," said Shepard, sheathing the buzzer. "Or you'll drown in suds."

"Keelah, I need to jump in the shower."

"Yeah, unless you want to track hair over the house."

"I'd rather not do that."

"Then you'd have to vacuum."

"I have better things to do than vacuum," I quipped.

I ripped off my pants, shirt, and stared at the stupid socks that mummified my feet.

"I'll leave you to it," said Shepard, laughing to himself and closing the bathroom door.

This is life for me now. It's the little things, all of these trivial tasks I have to deal with that are beginning to get on my nerves. I'm used to blowing Collectors, geth, and Reapers in half with my shotgun, not dealing with taking showers and getting my hair cut like, dare I say, a civilized person. Don't get me wrong, I am loving this new life, but after spending years fighting to keep alive, it's hard to jump right back into what normal people consider every day.

Regardless, my new hair cut feels great.

I twisted the knob on the shower and sighed. At least warm water feels good and my time in the shower has been cut by about thirty minutes.

My frown lifted to a smile and I breathed a laugh.

Accept it, Tali.

Life is good.

I hope you all enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it! A shout out to VandalX187 for looking the chapter over for me. You're the man, Bill.

Now, I have just finished writing my next story, The Aurora Prophecy, and I would love for all of you to give it a try once I begin releasing chapters. As of right now, it is in the editing process, and guess what? There will be art work with every chapter done by the brilliant modsoft. Seriously, I am very proud of what the team I am working with has done in making this something big and very special. It's been about nine months working on it so far and I am ecstatic to share it with you all once I feel it is as close to perfection as I can possibly get it. Now, I am posting the link in my profile to where the art will be shown below (it is in the BSN, coupled with Deception's homepage) and all you have to do is scroll down a bit to see a teaser of the art and the story's synopsis. It will be here, on as well. Anyways, to see the upcoming art, subscribe to the link posted in my profile, hold on tight, and wait for an update! I'd love a comment-an opinion on what you think so far, and yes, it is centered on a quarian.

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Okay, that's it with the advertising. I swear.

As always, I love you all. This three year journey has been a wild one.

Very best,

FsDxRAGE