thearchangel: (The confusion and the aftermath)
[He doesn't dream. Typically, Garrus is just too dead tired to do anything like dream. He sleeps -- he wakes up. There's nothing memorable in between. It's not unpleasant. He doesn't regret it. It's just how things are.]

[Which makes it all the more strange that, tonight, the dream is so vivid, he could swear he is actually there. That it isn't a dream at all.]



CUT FOR ME3 SPOILERS )



[The walls of the Keep greet him when he wakes up, not the Presidium. There's a bed under his bony ass, not armor. It's dark. Quiet. And his heart is racing.]

[What... was that? Any of that?]


- - -

[Later in the night, he's put his armor back on, and taken up a vantage point in the chapel, the higher the better, staring down solemnly at the floors below. A bottle is in one hand.]

[While the other traces the harsh, brutal outlines of broken cartilage across the side of his face.]

1 - Video

Apr. 13th, 2011 06:26 pm
thearchangel: (Did I leave the gas on?)
[It's doubtful anyone in the Keep has seen a turian before. If not, here's your chance. The one in question is sitting on his bed... cot... thing, staring down at the journal in his hands. He looks a lot less exhausted -- since he just slept for days, but no less banged around.

Or maybe it's just how he always looks, considering one side of his face is scarred horrifically.]

I... think I was supposed to contact the local medic. Or have her contact me. I think. Everything's a little hazy still.

Sort of hoped I'd gotten cracked on the head... But I guess we don't get to be that lucky...

[Garrus scrubs a hand over his face.]

And I'm out of stims. Perfect.

August 2012

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