The apartment was mercifully quiet when I got in, meaning that Garrus was either in his room fiddling with his gun or out on a job. Which was great, since I didn't want any funny looks or questions about what i went through. I also didn't feel like sitting through a second interrogation which is perfectly inline with his need to pursue his own brand of justice. He could be such a snit sometimes.
I shuffled over to my room and unceremoniously dumped all of my inventory on the floor as I took off my vest. I was probably going to trip over that later. Either that or I would notice how the pile of crap would clash with the rest of the room aesthetics and gripe about it to myself and get told to shut up by Garrus.
Again, he's kind of a snit. It must be a turian thing, being super ocd about their stuff. I know Palin gets really annoyed whenever someone swept his office. Ajax too, he's pretty obsessive over the dog mechs.
I'll have to ask them about it sometime.
If you were to come inside I'm almost you could tell who's room was whose.
Garrus's room was pretty similar to the room of a college freshman that had just moved in, Spartan and unnaturally neat. It had a black wooden desk, with perfectly neat stacks of forms in one corner, and a computer in the center. It also had a metal desk which had what looked like gun mods lined up on the surface and a series of tools pinned to the wall in front of it. I'm pretty sure there was a stack of law and history book shelves somewhere. I don't really remember. Garrus doesn't like it when I look into his room.
Then again I wonder if that's because of the giant cheesy romance movie poster plastered on the ceiling. I forget the name of it but apparently it was really really popular a while back. Something about an award winning portrayal of turian and quarian relations. I don't judge.
The most notable thing though was the complete lack of a bed.
And by that I meant a human bed. Turians don't really sleep lying down you see. They kind of sit upright or lean against something, usually a family member or a pillow stuck to a wall. Or they put their face down on a desk like my brother does whenever I accidentally answer the phone with a sales pitch.
My room on the other hand was just a studio with a few modifications.
There were shelves everywhere and they were all lined with various knick knacks that I had bought off the internet. I don't really need to eat much so once I paid my share of rent I could more or less buy whatever I wanted. Most of the things on the wall shelves were cool looking knives, ornamental lacquered boxes, crystal figurines, music boxes, and a few carved horn combs.
Seriously, that's neat stuff right there and none of it was too heavy for the adhesive strips to hold. Or did I forget the tape strips and use super glue? I don't remember.
Oh well, not a big deal.
The floor had several ball jointed dolls of various creatures, both real and fictional, all lined up next to my craft box which was loaded with yarn, string, hooks, fabric, needles, clay, wood and whatever other tools I used for all my projects. I should probably clean that out sometime.
I also had a small desk with several compartments that I had filled with various art supplies and my hair ornament collection. I like to look at that stuff when I wanted inspiration. I probably should turn to digital drawing, but I can't get over the feel of pencils in my hands. Note to self, finish all the drawings that have been pinned to the walls.
I had a bin of various miscellaneous junk that was cheap but I liked. Things, like carved soaps and candles, neat whistles, glow in the dark paint, mason jars, and cool looking scrapbook paper.
It also had the scented oil bottles and soap that I was currently looking for.
Yeah, I really need to clear out some of this stuff. This was taking way too lon-
Oh, nevermind. I found it. It was sitting inside of the varren skull.
With the bottle in my gut I dragged myself over to the bathroom, locked the door and drew a bath.
Baths were nice even when you have metal over your skin. You just have to compensate with a bit more heat and a little less soap. That stuff gets in places you know, and it feels like being slathered in gallons of petroleum jelly when it happens.
Not fun.
I'm also pretty sure I look like shit. I didn't need a mirror to know I've got burn and scuff marks in places. Bombs, fire and bullets tend to do that. At least the stuff protecting the important things are undamaged. Plus my arms are dented again.
I figure I could work on the dents while I was sitting in the bath so I put the dented part of the hoof to my mouth and began chewing out the dent.
When the tub was full I hopped in and laid on my stomach so the water rose over my head. The heat of the boiling water was dulled by the metal, but I could still feel it in the certain places. While I could feel stuff everywhere, I think the circuit lines on my body were a bit more sensitive than the rest of me. Like the difference between being patted through a jacket vs. being patted through a shirt.
The water only hurt for a moment before my settings readjusted itself.
I wasn't too keen on that so I upped my sensitivity again. The burning sensation was a welcome distraction from everything that had happened recently. The fruit and cream smell was a bonus.
The centipede. FUCkinG MonSTer LeVEl CREEPS!
The interrogations. Hate the pointed questions. Hate the judgements of people who weren't there. And most of all. I HATE THAT THEY TREAT ME WITH KIDS GLOVES! It's like I'm not even a person to some of them. Can't say anything about it though. A synthetic of any sort getting angry about unjust treatment would practically be against the law. Yep. Public endangerment is illegal, don't you know?
Nope, nope. This is not the time for that. It will never be the time for that. Back into the mental vault you go.
The memory download. I hate probes, I hate them more when they're in my head. At least all they can take is sensory records. I'd be killed in an instant if they found out what I really thought. Then again, that's the case for pretty much everyone.
Saren. 'Nuff said. I got flack from both the council and Garrus for that. And also a piece of cake from Pallin.
The kidnapping. Is it bad that I'm glad to be away from the kids? I know they were in a scary situation, but they were so whiny. I couldn't get anything done with them and they kept arguing about everything. Dear mother of god, I swear they were harder to deal with than the mercs themselves since I had to worry about traumatizing them. The parents were even worse! I'm not sure if I should be more insulted by the ones who called me incompetent, or the ones who treated me like their omnitool. That's not even including the obnoxiously grateful ones.
I huffed in irritation and immediately regretted it when water went up my nose and into my head.
I immediately jerked upright and spent the next few minutes trying to sneeze my brains out. I slumped against the walls again, making sure not to let my nose and my mouth get in the water again.
Damn, I bit too hard and now my leg is all dented again.
Then the thing that lead up to the whole fiasco.
The homicide case.
I wonder what happened to that case. I'm sure they got someone on it once they got my message. I'll check on the status when I felt like getting out of the water.
I savored the silence of the steam filled bathroom as I dumped a bit more berry smelling oil in the water. The purple liquid slowly dispersing in the water like the hopes and dreams of a turian in a shark tank.
Wow. That was dark. Even for me.
Still, I hope the guy died quickly. I mean, he had his skull smashed to pieces against the wall and his innards were carved out. I'd like to think that the skull smash came first. Disembowelment was once used as a form of torture I think. Plus I'm pretty sure there were ways to ensure that the victim stayed alive as things were being removed.
Knowing what I do about serial killers the sap probably wasn't so lucky.
It was pretty much a Life of Pi type of situation ya know? Two possibilities, one being considerably more gruesome and likely than the other with the truth being up for speculation.
Either way, the man was still dead. Killed by a stranger inside his own home.
I froze and slowly turned my gaze to the bathroom door, with my thoughts churning. The fact that it was still locked brought me no comfort.
He died.
Inside. His. Own. Home.
I don't….
I don't think I want to be here anymore…
The cafe was bustling with people as day turned into night.
A man on shore leave sits at a table in the corner waiting for his companion to arrive. While he is waiting, he scrolls through the latest new on his omnitool.
"Biosynthetic creature saves political hostages during kidnapping event!"
"ROBOTS. Are they friend? Or foe?"
"Cagey Cat Creature Creates Chaos for Mercenaries!"
"Age Old Debate Regarding AI Rising With Recent Events! Tonight at 5!"
"Council Assassination thwarted by Turian and Toy"
"Bionic Cat Saves Kids and Sells Toys!"
"New Commercial Designer Toy Will Save Your Kids!"
"Syntell Corporations. The New Big Thing?"
Titles such as these spread like wildfire through the galaxy. Some of them were about the recent events, others were sales pitches.
The one thing they all had in common? They were all about the recent events in the Citadel. Specifically, the situation regarding the council assassination and the political hostages.
It seemed like that was all anybody was talking about the past week. The opinions were scattered across the spectrum.
Some of the Rear Echleon Motherfuckers in the Human Alliance felt that since Syntell was a human run company, the creation of the Biosynthetic creatures was an accomplishment big enough to deserve a seat on the council.
Some of the civilians felt that this was a huge step in the progress of reanimating the dead since the animal would have to be dead to be remade into a B-synth. The religious minority considered the creatures to be demon spawn and that the whole process violated the sanctity of life.
Some people thought the creatures were eldritch abominations that should be put down as soon as possible with any means possible.
The man snorted at that thought.
Most people just found the possibility of keeping their beloved housepets beyond their natural lifespan and traveling with them outside of human colonies to be neat. The same people treated the Lucia story the same as they would any other animal hero story. With a great deal of admiration and adoration.
The opinion of David Anderson himself? It would be a great boon to the Human alliance if they could have a K9 unit again. Dogs, even with great amounts of genetic alterations, still didn't travel well through without sedation Heavy sedation if a mass relay was needed. Something about the mass relays just set them off. The first time it happened a few of them had to be put down due to suddenly going violently berserk and attacking people.
Cats were only marginally better. At least they weren't inclined to dig through their own cage.
There's a reason that the standard human pets were so rare and expensive beyond earth.
Every single news site had the story posted and some of them even included recorded clips from the mech itself. Each of the children had been involved and all of them spoke reasonably well of the robot. Most of them said that it was rather grumpy and cagey but otherwise helpful.
Funny enough, that was an accurate description of a stray cat he once knew. He had a face like the turian councilor. The gnarly son of a bitch had a habit of looking down on people with utmost disdain. Damn good mouser though, best in the neighborhood. Hated adults, liked little kids. Finally kicked the bucket around 2168.
"Anderson?" Called a woman.
"I'm over here Shepard." He waved. "Glad to see you out of the hospital."
A red haired woman cheerfully waved back and marched over to the table and sat down. "It takes more than a bullet to kill me sir."
"That's good to know. It'd be too much trouble to find another kid off the streets."
"Why? Got another asshole cat you need me to watch?" Cheeky brat wasn't she?
"Ha Ha very funny Shepard. That old stray cat was just practice for your soldiering days. When you get promoted to commander you'll thank me for it." Snarked Anderson as he took a sip of his coffee.
"Yeah. That's never gonna happen. I like not having to worry about other people." She snorted as she looked at the different desserts on the menu. "It's just easier that way..."
"You know, Funny you should say that." He began. "I just got a promoted to commander."
"Oh. Erm..." Stammered the woman. She flushed as she tried to come up with something appropriate to say. "Congratulations Anderson."
"And I'm looking for a new Executive officer. Someone I can trust."
"Alright. Do you want me to make you a list?"
The man raised an eyebrow at the former street rat. It only took a few seconds before she understood what he meant.
"What? Me?" Her eyes widened as she processed the implications. "Why?"
"Yes. You Shepard. You've come a long way from the brat I picked up off the streets of London. You're the hero of elysium and you always look to find the best possible solution to conflicts." Insisted Anderson. "I need that kind of mentality handling internal ship affairs."
"But surely there's someone else with more experience then I am." She ran her fingers through her hair as she tried to come up with examples. "Santos, Casey, Heck even Teng would serve you well."
The older man raised an eyebrow. "Santos has a history of bias. Casey just lost an arm and Teng never does the paperwork right." He leaned forward and finished. "But more importantly, none of them think like you."
The woman sunk into the seat a little as she stewed over his words.
"Now Shepard. You've heard the titles in the newspaper. What do you think of biosynthetics?"
Shepard took a few moments to place an order before speaking. "I think they're pretty neat. I can only imagine the military uses of a dog mech. The dogs on earth are pretty fucking awesome at their jobs and cats are badasses." Her eyes start to light up as she continues talking. "I mean, I've always wanted a pet but ship life and mass relays pretty much have that fucked. Aside from fish anyway." She coughed in embarrassment.
"And of Lucia Li?"
"She reminds me of the stray Asshole Cat. She makes the funniest faces in the news. It's almost human the way it screams 'Why the Fuck are you touching me!' Plus her handler complain about it flipping out over dumb things too."
"Any particular preferences? I'm putting in a requisition for one." It was about time his superiors granted permission to order one. The fact that aliens were involved in the design and creation definitely shouldn't be a reason for not using them.
"I'd love another cat like AC, but a dog would probably be more useful in the field." She shrugged.
This is the worst.
"Again." Barked Ajax as he came at me with a mop.
I quickly dodged to my right and tried to sweep him off his feet. Unfortunately, my feet weren't cooperating today and they buckled under the sudden adjustment.
I've been here for hours, throwing myself at Garrus, and at Ajax, and getting slammed into the wall after I stumble. It's physical therapy mixed with combat training you see. To get my legs working right again after the all the electrical shocks. Something about helping the nerves reconnect after the overload. There was probably more to it, but I wasn't paying attention.
It was kinda fun for the first few bouts. But it's practically a universal truth that nothing is fun if you can't control your own body. Tremors are annoying when you are trying to write, or draw, or knit, or do anything that requires precision. Complete failure of functions on the other hand, should happen only in video games, torture or during suicides. Cardiac arrest sounds pretty painless after all.
Plus I'm pretty sure these guys have better things to do than staying and working with me.
"Until you figure this out you're nothing but dead weight. " sighed Garrus as he prepared for another bout.
I'm already a waste of space. You just haven't said it yet.
"Excuse me?"
Oops. Didn't mean to say that out loud. I waved off the probing stares.
"Why do I have to fight you guys though?" I whined. "Can't I just get a set of exercises and be done with it?"
"It's believed that you will recover faster if you are under some pressure. Besides, you requested this yourself." Replied Ajax. Shrugging off my complaints. "Begin!"
That's bullshit. Provided my medical textbook was correct, pressure only grants motivation, not actual ability. If anything it grants too much motivation and- I sound like I'm just making excuses don't I?
Plus when I asked for help I did NOT mean combat therapy, which is apparently an actual turian thing.
The broom strike misses me by just a hair. "Li. Concentrate." Lowed Garrus.
Garrus was a lot faster in combat than Ajax. His strikes were much more precise and they left deeper dents. I wanted to keep as far away from him as possible. But since he wields a mean broom that wasn't really an option.
/Barrier/
So I let him crash into my shields and moved to kick him. I nailed him in the keel bone but not as hard as I would have liked. He stepped back and grabbed my leg before dropping me to the ground on my tail.
Interesting fact, being dropped on your tail really hurts, even if you've never had an actual, living tail.
On that note, before he could actually let go I activated a new skill that I had known but never really used in combat.
At least until now.
/Incinerate/
The turian jerked in response as the surface of my skin suddenly hit boiling temperature. before letting go. I popped to my feet, spun, and mule kicked his shin. Which connected correctly, for once.
I don't actually burst into flames due to the parental controls. But I do get really hot, inside and out. The conversation got really weird when I mentioned I'd been using my gut to make food. My coworkers were wigged out that I'd turned a combat application into a tool for making lunch and I didn't know you could set enemies on fire with a cooking program.
Nothing quite like implementing the maillard reaction to get things done I guess.
"Better." He winced. Garus recovered quickly and switched tactics. Opting for a more aggressive option.
Dodge right. Duck. Counter.
"How long do I have to keep this up?" I panted as I blocked another kick. "Because I can think of tons of things that are just as good exercise that don't involve dents and bruises."
Side step. Barrier. Feint.
"Not much more. Turians don't dance." Answered Ajax. "You've made some good progress today."
Punch. Roll. Lunge.
Just as I was moving to tackle Garrus my legs went out from under me again.
Crap-
And I got beaned right between the eyes.
At least it was just my rear legs right? Ow… "Can we stop now?"
"Yes." Answered Ajax. "At this rate it'll be only two weeks before your back to one hundred percent."
"Plus you might actually take down a spectre." Teased Garrus. "I'm sure you'll be a match for Saren in a century or two."
I gave him the finger.
That is to say, I tried to give him the finger but since they won't come out unless I'm reaching to grab something it just looked like I was showing him the back my wrist. The two turians looked appropriately confused as I dragged myself out of the training room.
Like hell I was going to explain what I meant to do!
I just hope I don't run into Harkin before my legs start working again. I don't really fancy getting kicked again. Then again, if I don't find someplace private quick, he'll probably track me down just to kick me. Metal rubbing on linoleum is not the quietest thing around.
As I scraped through the halls I noticed a few things long since forgotten. The walls and corners weren't quite so polished and clean as they seemed. There was dust where the walls met the ground and more than a few cracks in the paint. Some of it even stuck up a bit. Just enough that even I could get my fingers underneath to peel it off. I wonder what it feels like.
Is the paint going to come off in stiff, dry flakes? Or maybe it's more like the oil based stuff in schools which are shiny and almost like plastic. Those peel off in thin smooth ribbons. Of course if the paint is like latex it would come off like paper and rustle when it rubs up against something. I also wonder if it makes any noise when I peel it.
That's probably going to bother me for the rest of the day. Damn.
My fingers twitch from inside my hoof and I slam it into the ground. No. I am not going to peel paint off the C-sec walls. In high school that got me in trouble for vandalism.
Hell if I know why. I thought the pink of the primer was a really nice contrast to the beige paint. Not to mention the complete and utter stupidity of actually painting over a bulletin board. Seriously who does that?!
I pressed my head against the wall when I felt the tell tale prickling of reconnections in my lower extremities. I'm glad I can walk again but it the pins and needles really fucking hurt!
After giving my legs a good shake to work out the rest of the prickling I trotted to the main office. Sepin should be working there right now and I ought to let him know I'm done so I could get these dents patched up. They kinda pinch the nerves a little bit which doesn't help the pins and needles one bit.
Maybe he'll give me some more chocolate chip cookies. Them things are delicious
I wonder where he gets them. Chocolate is expensive and no matter how good he is at his job, I doubt C-sec pay is enough to continuously buy chocolate chips. Even the cheap ones cost an arm and a leg.
Oh well, not a big deal I guess.
"Sepin! Are you there?" I called. "Can you straighten out my hip?"
He was sorting out what looked to be a large stack of incident reports. He straightened up the instant I spoke and hurried out of his seat.
"Of course. Of course I'll be right with you. Give me one moment." He hurried out of his seat and and began prepping his work space.
I watched him move all the equipment around with the same interest as a cat on a roof.
While he could be considered my doctor or nurse of sorts, I can't quite picture him with a stethoscope or a sphygmomamometer.
Ha! Try saying that three times quickly. I bet you can't.
Do salarians even use those things? Amphibian blood circulation isn't that different from mammalian blood circulation. The systems are all closed and stuff. But then salarians are aliens so maybe they had an open circulatory system, like bugs do. But wouldn't that mean the sphygmomamometer wouldn't be much help in reading blood pressure? Or maybe theirs is different.
Ugh. It's times like this I hate Palin for banning me from watching autopsies. The alien ones were pretty interesting. I liked my dissection lab dammit.
I wonder if there's any paint peeling in this room too...
A loud claps snaps me from me thoughts and I jump for the examination table.
I almost make it but Sepins hands catch around my middle and help me the rest of the way.
"I could've gotten up there without help you know." I grumped. "You didn't have to carry me."
"This is more efficient." Shrugged the salarian as he placed me on the scanner for repairs and recalibration. He raised his equivalent of eyebrows at the bite marks that lined the edge of my hooves. "Can you release the seals please?"
I sighed and did as he asked. The white pearlescent shell which covered me promptly released their air tight grip with a strangled hiss. Sepin removed the pieces and began reshaping them with what looked like a rounded hammer.
The ritual of removing my… Skin... Shell… One of the two, had become rather familiar.
/Play/- Bring Me To Life
Sitting and waiting during repairs is probably the best time to listen to music and doodle. Doing it inside my eyeballs was pretty weird, but then again so is being a computer with le- I mean, having a computer grafted into my brain. Somethingn about boredom and stillness is great for stimulating the creative juices.
I get dinged up a lot, either via someone's foot or my own stupidity. There were many debates on which one was more frequent though the common consensus was the latter. After all, no one was supposed to hurt me so why would anyone want to admit to kicking me. It was easier to say that I had gotten between their feet. Plus I actually do fall down the stairs a lot. Stupid leg placements.
Stupid gravity.
"Is something the matter?" Asked the salarian.
My ear twitched in confusion. "No. Why?"
He shows me his omnitool.
Subject 843 -Lucia Li-
Synchronicity 80%
Song playing- Bring Me To Life
Programs Open- Colorsplash360
"Oh. It's nothing major. Just a bit bummed about something." I sighed. "I'm kind of regretting a few requests." Well not really, it's more along the lines of regretting asking Turians to teach me. I probably should've asked an asari commando for advice. Spying and sabotage seems more my shtick than direct combat. I'm sure at least one of them has their number on the internet.
"Garrus, Palin, and Ajax have all commented on the progress of your combat skills." Hummed the salarian as he rubbed away a few scuff marks. It's scary how well he knows me sometimes. Then again, he does scan through my memory. "I thought you would've been happy since you asked for the training yourself."
"It's nothing to write home about really." I stared down at my skin free hands. "Plus it doesn't mean I like getting my [DONKEY BRAYING] kicked repeatedly."
"I'm afraid I don't understand that particular phrase."
"Nothing worth reporting." I concentrated on all of my fingers, trying to will them into opening up without grabbing something. I could almost feel them twitching when something popped up in my mind. "Say. Did that number and website I found ever go anywhere?"
"Ah. The number from your memory banks was the contact information for Syntel."
"Really?" I brightened. Maybe I could ask about myself. Perhaps there were other b-synths like me. Maybe I knew someone. "Anything interesting?"
"Unfortunately no, it was the private customer service line. An AI was on the other end taking custom requests and alterations." Replied the Salarian as he gave me a few completed shell pieces for me to reattach. "It seemed like Syntel was little known before your rescue mission made the headlines. The waiting list for those orders is astronomical."
Oh. Damn.
"Say… Sepin. I have a question." I began. "Why are you so insistent on working on me anyway? It's not your job and I have a repair manual in my head so given enough time, I would've learned how to fix myself."
The salarian paused in his repairs and turned to me with a small smile. "The collective Salarian Union has a vested interest in your mental and physical well being."
"Okaaaaaayyy?" I twitched my left ear. Well that wasn't creepy at all.
Moving on. "Can you give me something so I can zap people with it?"
That got a curious tilt. "Might I ask why? I mean I can of course, and I'm sure you could use it effectively. But it's rare for you to make reque-."
"People keep touching me when I'm in public and I'm pretty sure that burning their hands would get me in serious trouble." I snipped "I can't carry a conversation before some idiot picks me up and starts that terrible baby talk."
I cringed at the memory of some of the incidents.
People have, in order of frequency, squeezed me so hard my lunch came up, stuck fingers in my mouth and eyes, grabbed and disconnected my hands trying to give the hardest hand shake possible, forcibly kissed me, and tried to buy me from who ever I'm with. Even if I was an actual cat, that sort of thing doesn't fly. Not to mention I'm not entirely sure that someone won't actually sell me.
Cough. Harkin. Cough.
Seriously, if I get crushed between another set of mammary glands there are going to be issues. Lots and lots of issues.
I wonder where I can find a lawyer that specializes in provoked assault and chemical warfare.
I also wonder if the cracked paint would be fixed by the time I'm done getting examined. I kind of want to go check.
Then my face hit the scanner as I realized I had interrupted someone again. "Oops. Sorry." laughed sheepishly. "I just-"
"Don't like being randomly touched by strangers yes." Grinned the technician as he cut in himself. "If you're looking for something like neural shock I'd suggest combing through your data banks more thoroughly. I've spied some code that suggests you might have it."
Cool beans. I nodded in satisfaction and made a note of it.
I'll do that after I peeled the paint.
Nope.
But I have to wonder what color is under the initial layer.
Nope.
Stupid intrusive thoughts.
"What's this about intrusive thoughts?" Demanded the technician.
"Oops. I didn't mean to say that out loud."
Sepin paused in his work. He peered over his shoulder, eyes wide with concern. "Did someone try to hack you?"
Pfft. You can't hack a human brain. "It's a human thing. And also an ADD thing. Nothing major. Kind of annoying though."
"Do they occur often? What kinds of thoughts are they? Do you want to act on them? What do they make you feel?" Pressed the salarian as abruptly planted himself right in front of me. "Do you need more medication?!"
I jumped at the sudden invasion of personal space and fell off the table. " Jesus |LOUD AIR HORN|-ing Christ! Don't rush me like that!"
"Just answer the question!" He replied sharply as he plopped me back on the scanner.
I flinched under his glare though I never looked away. "U-um. In the order asked. Only once in awhile, things that would get me into trouble, no, weirded out and annoyed, and the only medications I need are gummy vitamins and anti-anxiety pills of which I have plenty." No point in getting hooked on them anyway. Then I shot back a question of my own. "Why do you want to know?"
"It's the first sign of dementia, psychosis, and psychopathy for many citadel species. I'm putting you on psyche watch."
"Seriously?! That's a bit much isn't it? " I gaped. That's like checking for cancer each time you get a fever. I already have to sit through hours of therapy if the asari lady doesn't see anything wrong then I don't think I'm going nuts. But I knew better than to argue with my own doctor. That sort of thing never turns out well in books and knowing my luck he'll turn out to be part of a secret spy ring or something equally lucrative. "Dude. Go take some human psychology classes. You can find plenty of them on the internet."
Sepin nodded skeptically before going back to work.
I guess there are cons to the first relay war thing. Most human beings I talk to are pretty suspicious of turians and everyone else is wary of humans. It's like the civil rights movement and wwii all over again and my opinions are invalid since I don't fall in line with either group.
Meh, I'll save my thoughts for the internet forums.
"Alright. That should be the last few pieces." Finished Sepin as he pushed them toward me. "Try not to fall down the stairs so hard next time."
"Will do."
Author's note-
Hello everyone I have risen from the dead. I've spent halloween collecting souls to feed my muse. Here is the result of all my hard work.
Beta'd by Toothless Is Best. Give him your worship.
**Feedback is much appreiciated as it gives me ideas as well as motivation to continue.**
Now for the chapter notes.
I've decided to do some headcannoning for the turians. Since they were based off birds I referenced some parrots I was familiar with. The idea of turians being a stickler for their things was too funny to pass up. Plus it would kind of explain why you almost never saw Garrus not doing calibrations. The sleeping thing was from the way my aunts parrots would all press against one side of the cage underneath a bell. The way they're designed makes it look like sleeping on their back would be really really comfortable.
I wonder if anyone can guess the movie poster on his ceiling.
My bedroom is always the definition of organized chaos. I know where everything is just fine but it still looks like a mess of various knickknacks sitting where they logically shouldn't be. Like the soap in the skull thing.
I always get super paranoid after watching a documentary on serial killers. I imagine I would be a great deal worse if I'm was at the scene of a break in and a murder.
Lucia pretty much locked herself in the closet after her bath until Garrus came home and wouldn't come out unless he agreed to upgrade security and train her to fight properly. She kind of regrets that decision, but only a little.
And yes, Intrusive thoughts are a thing. Everyone gets them and they're perfectly normal. The paint peeling thing did get me into trouble when I was younger but even then I couldn't stop because it was so weirdly satisfying. It's like popping bubblewrap.
So yep. Shepard is earthborn in this one and she got into the military through Anderson. I love the idea of a the street brat gradually growing into a legend. It's like the perfect underdog story. And also cat's because cats are awesome even if they're assholes.
My cousin had a cat like that. You almost never saw it unless you walk past where it would hiding. Then it would spring out and chew up your ankles.
A sphygmomamometer is the thing that doctors use to read your blood pressure. It goes around your arm and the doctor usually squeezes the bulb to tighten it. I did have to take a test on its functions when I was still in that major and I still haven't met someone who can say that 5 times fast.
Review replies
Shugokage- I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Silver Water 7- Lucia's circle of influence is growing pretty well isn't it? And oh boy, you are going to love it when Shepard meets Lucia. XD!
Blaze1992- Saren = problems. That's practically an unspoken law in mass effect. Never mind the sheer amount of paperwork Lucia flooded the complaints department for.
eurodox59- I'm glad you agreed :D. Noodle incident reports are always one of the more entertaining reports to read I think.
Michael 13- She was originally built as something of a guardian and sibling for a boy whose parents had dangerous occupations. The rest falls under the spoilers category.
Pelinal-Whitestrake- Beef and pepper stir fry is probably my favorite thing to eat and thus Lucias as well. If I go to a chinese restaurant you can bet I'm ordering that at the very least. Macguyver-esque maneuvers are amongst the most fun things to write I think.