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.]
thearchangel: (Human | I see what you did there.)
[And, once more, the distinctive 'echoing' quality to Garrus' voice is absent. It sounds pretty flat, by comparison.]

[Garrus himself just sounds sort of... tired. Maybe it's due to stress, or just... plain old resignation.]


Are we really doing this again...? I mean, come on. Wasn't once enough?

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thearchangel: (Default)
Garrus Vakarian

September 2024

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