forgivetheinsubordination | IC Contact

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org Uh, yeah. What's up?

FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org

I have pancake mix here with your name on it, in case you'd forgotten.

[It literally has his name on it, as in, Noh-Varr gently carved 'GV' onto the box so he wouldn't mix the dextro and levo up.]

FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org

Is now a bad time?

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org Now's a great time. I've had a lot of rest. Drop by, catch me up on camp happenings while we do this?

FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org

I didn't take you for a gossip. I'll be there in a moment.

[True enough, he's there within minutes, two boxes of pancake mix under one arm, along with the pre-packaged mixing bowls and some plates.

Oh, and syrup. The most important part.

When he hops in, the haroomba bumps into his leg as it tries overexcitedly to clean up after him, and he offers Garrus a smile.]

Sleep well?

[He snickers as he scoops up the haroomba to redirect it.]

You could say so. Spent a time in medical. Getting avalanched in isn't something that's good for turians. But I'm back on my feet.

[Garrus nods at the oven.]

What temp you want it set to? And it's more I wanna know what I've missed.

I can imagine. 220, please. [He feels a twinge of guilt for not being there.] I wanted to help, but--Armada had other plans.

[Does he sound bitter to you? He might be a little teeny bit bitter. He's the camp's prettiest lawn ornament, or something.] All the Blues had to watch over our haul, though. [His tone switches to smug. Poor bastards.] And then, well--this mission happened.

[One thing after the other. He begins mixing pancake mix, using separate sets of bowls and separate dishware. He takes his friends' health seriously.]

Edited 2014-08-05 09:12 (UTC)

[He starts up the oven, already getting more than a little curious.]

What'd Armada want? And what's 'this' mission?

[Garrus makes airquotes around 'this' as he comes over to watch what Noh-Varr is doing. The separate bowls are a relief. He knows people who are used to dextro and levo who slip up.

Reaching over, Garrus grabs one of the whisks and starts stirring.]

He wanted me to keep guard in front of his and Warriorhead's rover. I'm not kidding. [He runs a hand through his hair, visibly a little annoyed. The camp's prettiest lawn ornament.] They came back--Warriorhead was single-handedly dragging along an adult frostbrood. I heard Armada was at the site, helping to rescue the recruits, so they must not have been out hunting the entire time.

[Maybe Warriorhead went alone.]

And more recently--we set up the targeting server. Ghost and Neheda took us to the mountains, east of here. Sector R. [His voice mellows out, and his expression turns a little more grim. Ajna's days are numbered. On the one hand, the sooner this frozen goes gets wiped, the happier he'll be, on the other...well. It's still planetary destruction. Nothing he's never seen before, but nothing to make him too happy, either.

On the bright side, he's finished mixing. On the oven dish, he makes two large flat discs with the mixtures, making sure they don't touch.]

Gotta wonder what was in the rover.

[His voice is quiet as he keeps stirring. Had they turned over the other captain's head yet? Is there something else that they're keeping in there? But it's not like he has any cause to investigate. Above all, he has to worry about his world.

The other news is much more grim, though.]

And that means the mission is nearing its end.

[He doesn't give a care about Ajna. It's cold, the life isn't sentient enough to worry Garrus, and everything on the planet wants to eat him. What worries Garrus is the possibility that the next world will be inhabited by a civilization. By people. Because sooner or later it's going to come down to math, how many lives he has to sacrifice to save others, and he does not want to speed that up.

As Noh-Varr pours the stuff out, Garrus watches and crosses his arms.]

They give any sort of agenda, or timeline? Or just had you set it up?

[He scoffs, shrugging, and pops the dish in the oven.]

You think they tell us things? Funny. No, aside from giving us a deadline on getting the job done--but it's days, now, probably. How many, I can't say.

[Noh-Varr had, and is having, the same thoughts Garrus just did. How much can he put on the line for Earth?]

While we were up there, we saw something. A creature of unknown origin, presumably native to this place. Two of the hunting teams had encounters with it. [Saying-without-saying: that's an awful lot of territory for one beast to travel.]

[Of course they hadn't said. But so soon... They were efficient. Of course they were. It's a business.]

What did it look like, or seem like, this creature?

[Two teams. One sector isn't so huge, but at the same time, they spread the teams out. So it's fast-traveling. And apparently something they haven't seen before. A chill goes through Garrus. Is there actually a sentient race here, after all?]

Anything you heard.

[That's Noh-Varr's best guess, too, but he doesn't want to voice it.]

About two and a half meters high. White fur, shaggy, red eyes. No distinctive shape that I could see, but it moved on four legs. Incredibly fast, and intelligent enough to outmanoeuver an entire squad.

[An entire squad with Loki on it, and while Noh-Varr doesn't doubt their collective capabilities, Loki's powers are vast, and he's--Loki. For a creature to have outwitted him is startling.]

Its tracks vanished faster than we could follow them.

[Survived two teams. Nobody got a good look at it. Taller than Garrus. Fast, and could manipulate something to hide its tracks, which implied some sort of biotics. Or control of ice or something like some people here could control fire, but animals didn't do that. Animals couldn't.

Garrus leans back against the wall of the rover, arms crossing.]

But why now? If it was gonna show itself, make a difference, shouldn't it have shown up before?

[If it had attacked when the landing teams had been coming in, with no instructors around, when the groups were already under siege, how easy would it have been to take out an entire drop point? Sharks and that thing? They would have lost a lot more.

Which means that maybe it's not a native. Maybe it's not from this planet, and Garrus doesn't know that he can actually afford to hope for that, but he will. It could just be an enemy of the CDC.]

No way to find it. No way to find anything more out, I take it. Sector R... got any orders regarding it? Stay clear, or patrol, or...?

I'm afraid not, unless you feel like taking a long hike.

[Privately, Noh-Varr thinks it might be a native species they haven't catalogued yet. Something likely more sentient than the beasts they've encountered so far, but not intelligent enough to do much beyond attempt to frighten them. Otherwise, wouldn't they have fought off the invading force before now?

It's all speculation, though. He has nothing concrete to back it up.]

The sector is still reachable. We built defenses around the CTDS itself, and left it at that. Access is monitored and currently prohibited; that's all I know. [He tilts his head at Garrus.] Were you actually thinking of going?

[You'll freeze your skinny Turian ass off, Vakarian.]

[He takes a breath in and out, considering the question. Monitored and prohibited. He'd have to ask permission, because he knows they can be overheard and watched anywhere they go. Add that to the list of things he needs to do.]

Don't know.

[It's the honest answer. He will freeze his skinny ass. And making the request will draw more attention. At least there's something delicious to smell starting to fill the air as he ponders what he's doing.]

It's a long way out there. I'd need permission to take a rover or a jeep. I wouldn't want to go alone, either. I'd have to put together a team, because something like that isn't going to be friendly. What's CTDS stand for?

The Central Targeting Data Server, which I'm pretty sure does exactly what its name implies.

[ He keeps one eye on the oven. It is starting to smell good in here. ]

Even if you went all the way to the border, they probably wouldn't even let you into the sector without permission. [ He arches a brow that says, at the same time, 'don't drag me into your shenanigans' and 'if you go, I'm coming'. ]

They didn't issue a gag for the mission, but now that I've told you I feel personally responsible. [Is he exasperated? Amused? Both.] If you go, you'll take me with you, are we clear?

[ He's got a pretty clear idea that neither Ghost nor Mother will let him--any of them--go back there, but you never know. ]

[So. That's that. That's how the world will go, then. Some big machine, a target... Damn. But it's good to know. Useful. Important.]

I know I'd have to ask permission.

[Garrus holds up the arm with a cuff on it, trying to use his eyes to convey what he means. They're tracked. The CDC would know anyway, and he would prefer to not be executed for trespassing. Worse, he'd like to not lose his world for him being stupid.]

And yeah. If you wanna go and it gets approved, then you're in. I'd wanna take a few people. Something that's elusive and big means we'd wanna watch our backs.

[If it's not some sort of projection. Lack of tracks, no bodies after the fight... But he can't say anything for sure without going himself.]

[ It could be cryokinetic, or use particle manipulation as a camouflage method. It hadn't outright attacked any of them; its intent was clearly to frighten.

When Garrus raises the cuff, Noh-Varr shrugs and nods. Garrus doesn't strike him as the type to act on impulse or take lives for granted, but he is...boisterous, for a sniper. ]

I don't think its aim is to harm us--no one who encountered it was hurt. Rattled, perhaps, but unharmed. I agree to investigating it, though, if you can convince them to let you.

[ At that, the oven 'dings' pleasantly, and Noh-Varr is suddenly busy pulling out their meal. It smells good--it'll be even better with syrup, he knows.]

Can you give me the bottles?

[ He shouldn't feel so excited about such a mundane thing, but it's rare for Noh-Varr to want to share experiences with others. Humans find his unabashed love of their planet embarrassing. Garrus humors him, and he appreciates that. ]

Maybe it was scouting.

[As Garrus talks he's grabbing the bottles and then passing them over, sniffing curiously at the air. The scent's already on the sweet side, but maybe Garrus should have figured as much. They're called pancakes, after all, and humans and cake, well. It's always sweet. Very sweet.]

Getting a good idea of who we are and what we might be capable of. I mean, charging in right off the bat's never a good idea. Not like it stops everyone from doing it.

[But that upgrades the being's intelligence even more. Until he knows more, he can't make any real calls, and until he goes he can't know more. Flying blind is the worst. But in the middle of his frustration, Garrus remembers that they'll probably need something to eat with and so he's grabbing forks and offering one to Noh-Varr after the bottles are taken.]

The other animals attacked. This one just watched. Sounds like coordination, to me.

[ The more Garrus talks, the more intelligent the beast sounds, and the more Noh-Varr wants to tell him to stop talking. He focuses instead on pouring the syrup onto its respective stack, cooling the pancakes. He's actually pretty frugal with it: he likes a lot, but he doesn't want to overwhelm Garrus' palate. ]

I sincerely hope you're wrong.

[ Is that rude to say? It might be. He'd rather put off the time of Hard Decisions, himself, not for his own sake but because of what he imagines--what he knows--would happen to the crew at this juncture if a sentient species were discovered here.

Taking the fork, Noh-Varr spears a bite off his own plate and tests it. He's had time to 'perfect' his method in his own rover, and the results, while not as good as what you'd get from a pan, are respectable. He offers Garrus his own plate. ]

Here. Try.

[ He tries not to look hopeful. Or eager. From what Garrus told him about Palaven's cuisine, and his own tiny sampling of it, Noh-Varr can only deduce he'll find it very sweet, possibly too much. ]

So do I.

[He's not offended, and it's probably best that they get off that topic anyway. They're going to be listened in on and he doesn't need to get the CDC paying even more attention to him.

A little tentatively, Garrus cuts a piece of the food, making sure some of the sauce is on it.]

Looks interesting. Smells it too.

[Time for the test. He takes the bite, mandibles flickering in amusement at the fact that yes, it is sweet, but then he's nodding.]

Huh. Yeah, that's good. Right on the edge of too sweet without going too far, you know?

[Cheerfully Garrus takes another bite, enjoying the dish. It's not often he gets to try something of Earth, or something that parallels a levo dish period. Few people can eat dextro and levo both without a reaction, and even fewer were chefs who wanted to bother translating dishes over.]

Thank you.

[ Pleased, Noh-Varr turns his head a little to hide his smile, which is probably one of the first true smiles he's made since coming here. He's happy to settle on the floor with his plate, basking in the smell and the heat from the oven as it disperses through the rover. Right now, this is good. ]

The rest of the syrup bottle is yours, if you want it--it's dextro, so I can't share it with anyone else. You can keep the mix box, too. [ Too bad Tali isn't around to share with anymore. More for Garrus. ] Did I tell you I tried some turian cooking from the shopping network?

[ It came in pretty standard vacuum-sealed packages, and it had been hot and flavourful, like masala. He'd enjoyed it. ]

[Garrus glances over at the bottle before nodding. He'll find something it works with. Probably more than one something, and any dextro supplies are good to have here.]

Appreciate it. But you hadn't told me you'd tried something.

[It's weird. It's just food, and yet having something of his people known to even one other person feels... good. The only other dextro is gone, no one else here has ever been to Palaven, and there's a weird sense of isolation there even when he's among friends. Garrus would not be surprised to find out that he's far from the only person feeling like this, but at the same time that doesn't help. Sure, there's just one Kree here, one drell, one asari, one of this and one of that. It doesn't give them actual common ground. Just a common lack.]

You like it? I mean, the shipped stuff isn't gonna be as good as you can get back home, but it's not bad.

[And it's better than nutri-paste like he gets sometimes on ships. Garrus simply has to defend the homeworld's cooking, even if he's not the best turian ever.]

It was good! Spicy, like you said, and very aromatic. I'd offer to show you Kree cooking, but take my word for it--it's as bad as I've told you.

[ Noh-Varr is, in fact, the worst Kree. For all his racial pride, he really has no interest in the finer points of Kree culture, not anymore. How could he, after seeing the wide worlds beyond? All of their food is basically nutri-paste. The Skrulls have better cooking than they do. ]

I decided to buy some off the shopping network--some Turian, some Alternian after Vriska told me about it. I liked the Turian better, but don't tell Vriska I said so.

[ Well, not necessarily after she'd told him. He'd been curious all on his own. The Alternian grubloaf had been fine. A functional food, without strong taste. The Turian dish he'd tried had struck him more as a properly-cooked, true meal. ] My digestive tract allows me to digest anything, so I might as well put it to good use. I like learning--you can tell a lot about a culture from its food.

[Yep, there's some blooming pride going on over in Garrus' corner. That's a part of him, and his food just got ranked over at least two cuisines. The pride shows in his stance, too, with his head cocked just a bit more to the side and mandibles flared just a little wider.]

Never had the chance to really taste a lot of other food. Quarian cooking is decent, but it tends to be more plant-based than meat, and, well. Doesn't do a lot for me.

[He jerks his chin toward Noh-Varr's plate, even though what they're eating definitely isn't turian.]

So what'd you learn from what you tried?

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