thelastshepard​

“It could be worse man, you could have died and have been resurrected to keep doing this shit,” Shepard joked.
“The sad thing about all this is it can only get worse. Every battle we get older. Our reflexs get slower. Our strength is lower. Gotta end this sooner rather than later.”

Garrus felt a strange sensation crawl up his spine when Gael said that, shaking the feeling off as he peered into a mirror to check the right side of his disfigured face.

“So you say about yourself, but this is 2186. We can live as long as we’d like. Agumented, cybernetic.”

Garrus went to sit down on a bench unlatching his armor boots and shin guards.

whitxnoisx:

  Gus kept his eyes locked with the other’s as he spoke.
   
      “Jazz is perfectly fine.” 
       He says, and then his lips turn into a shy smile.

    “I don’t think I used to be before, but I am good
     at it now. I’m better with pies though.” Gus stated.
   
    “I thought you were more of a punk rock guy, to be honest.”
     He tried to mimic the way Garrus had just said those three
     last words, just to tease him.                 

Garrus chuckled in response, dipping his head as
his hand reached up to run over his scalp.

“Punk rock? Hm, I’m an old soul–but punk rock?
That’s the first.”

Typically he was told he was a “geek”, a high fascination with
technology and a disturbing pleasure for “calibrating” gun rifles.

“Pie, I like pie. I enjoy anything that’s sweet–say, we do both?”
“After all, my lastslice? I hope you savored it well friend.”

Good, he was okay with Jazz. Hopefully he had liked
it just as much as Garrus did.

whitxnoisx:

         “I’m truly sorry,” he said facing the other.

                     “Do you want to go get the supplies?”
                          he offered. “I’ll come along, we
                            can jam to your songs in the car.”
             

Suddenly shy.

       "Well I have jazz music.“
Garrus paused.

"Is Jazz okay?”

He glanced over at the man with
hair as dark as coal.

             Then abruptly Garrus asked–
             "I didn’t take you as a baker, to be honest.“

whitxnoisx:

      “What? I thought it was all for me. I’m so sorry.
      I’ll bake you some, but I can’t promise it will be
      as good as the other one.”

        " ‘can’t say I’m not disappointed.“

              "Because I am, but–”
“I’ll proudly take you up on the offer of baking
 me another.”

greatofdeath:

   She can’t help the low snicker that rises from her throat. Reptilian gaze locked on the Turian’s as she smiles something wicked. Her teeth bite into the flesh of her lower lip, mildly indenting the plush petals as she’s looking at him. Ammit hums an ancient tune, there’s nothing but mischief in the goddess’ path tonight.

The sound she made caught his attention. He  kept  his
 eyes on the goddess as she smiled   and   he   tried   to
 decipher her body  language–though  it   wasn't   hard.
 He knew exactly what she wanted and how she wanted
it. He would be naive to not answer her calling.

                                    Garrus swallowed, dropping his hand along his
                                    side as he stood before her. 

wxkingpies:

“Yeah okay, but who would want to come in and buy a pie
from a guy that has half of his face melted off? Wouldn’t that
kind of be, ya know… off putting?” Ned sighed, reaching up to
rub the back of his neck.

"Thanks, always have loved the classics. I was always more of
a Star Wars geek, though.”

Garrus smiled, dipping his head.

"Where I’m from it’s common for most to be riddled with
scars or missing something.”
                        "Star Wars? You’re a fan of space operas I
                          pressume then?“

The smile on his face grew wider,
sharing a similar  background  to
the series.

unitwithsoul:

“Vegetables.”

unitwithsoul:

“If you cannot deny the possibility than it
 would be best to avoid potentially dangerous
 behaviors. Should you body be damaged you
 would have no backup.”

“And what meal plan do you believe I should follow
so that I may live to see my death by the hands of husks or–
something similar. Geths? Betrayal? Reaper destruction?”

greatofdeath:

greatofdeath:

   Lips pull up into a smirk within that kiss, tongue pressing against his lips before she pulls away to look at him. “Vakarian.” Her hands occupy either sides of his face, nails drawing down to lightly graze along supple flesh until they’re resting at his shoulders.

Garrus inhaled sharply, steadying his breathing as his fingers danced
over his lips trying to cling onto the sensation Ammit left there.

“Ammit.”
Saying her name in the same heated tone.

unitwithsoul:

“Yet. Your own statement conveys the
distinct possibility of future health problems.”

“I just said it before you would mention it.”