forgivetheinsubordination | IC Contact

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

Yeah, sure. Through this or in person?

from: attano.corvo@cdc.org

It is of no great importance.

from: attano.corvo@cdc.org

I was wondering how it is one sends pictures over these devices?

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

I've got time. First you need something to take the picture with. You buy a camera on Selena? The one with the cables? The hooking up is pretty simple, and then it'll download to the blackglass.

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

Note what the picture's being saved as, what name. After that, you're gonna open up a message to the person you wanna send the image to. There's an option at the top to "attach file." Take it.

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

With me so far?

from: attano.corvo@cdc.org

... I think so.

from: attano.corvo@cdc.org

Is there a way to make images on it?

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

That sort of image. Right.

[He needs to stop making assumptions.]

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

There's a pretty primitive drawing program, yeah. Should I drop over where you are and give you a hand with it?

from: attano.corvo@cdc.org

If you like? I do not wish to take too much of your time.

[ but at least down time meant there was nothing much to do but inanity. ]

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

I've got time. Where'll I find you?

from: attano.corvo@cdc.org

I'm in my rover.

014.

FROM: vakarian.garrus@cdc.org

On my way.

[And sure enough, a few minutes later he's knocking on rover 014.]

[ He's relaxed as he ever gets, like this. Swiping at the rover to let Garrus and he's in remarkably better state. Sleeves pushed up arms and long lines of more scars, hair pulled up the back of his head and tied off. Nods in greeting. ]

Welcome.

[ Turns to make his way back in, expecting to be followed back up. What he'd been doing before this discarded, the brittle cleaned moose bone left discarded on the small folded out table, the blade he'd been using beside it. ]

[Ah, good. This time Corvo doesn't look like death warmed over. Garrus ducks his head as he enters, the instinctual habit a leftover from way too many human-sized doors, and looks around. Ah, bones. Those always lend a... feeling... to a place.]

So you killed someone recently and just decided to decorate with their parts? Adds... charm.

[Garrus grabs a stool and pulls out his blackglass before he's finished teasing.]

[ He's taken back a second, confused at what he's talk about until he remembers. ]

Ah. No, Jasper went hunting back on the Nehada. [ He shrugs and goes back to them. Maybe it's an effort to be a good host or maybe he just doesn't like people seeing his... well, he supposes it might be a hobby, but the bones half way through being smoothed to a polish, are tucked into a box. ] It's a custom where I come from... sailors carve them, for good luck. Usually from whales, but bears sometimes, when the tusks grow long enough.

[ He stills, the last few tucked into the box and he might, might just be screwing with you Garrus. ] The most powerful ones are said to be made out of people, of course. [ a flat even dead pan as the bones clank against each other and are put away. ]

Edited 2015-03-21 04:36 (UTC)

Of course. If you're primitive to believe in tokens for luck, why not carve them out of human bones?

[His voice is wry. Garrus wouldn't really be surprised if it's true that Corvo's people carve up human bones as good luck toys.]

So is it more or less lucky if they do it out of enemy bones? My bet's on less, but considering humans and their vendettas, I can see them trying to sell it as more.

[He's still half-teasing as he talks, leaning forward as he waits for Corvo to be ready.]

And then you carve up the wrong enemy and you're boned.

[ He hears that word, looks up sharp at Garrus. Primitive. Not the first time. Aeryn used it more than once when he described or discussed things. More than just Aeryn, Wade liked to remind him that he was somewhat backwards as far as he knew it. Whatever Dunwall was, wasn't up to the same speed so to speak.

But it wasn't a matter of belief, and he doesn't need to explain, not really. He just finishes putting everything away, looking up with a slightly off smile at Garrus, and alright, he is a bastard, if only a little. ] Why not indeed.

[ He picks up the box and then he transverses, flickers out of sight and into shadow, only to reappear the other side of the room, in a hiss of void and screaming of things off and inherently wrong, that faint smell of salt water and blood that he's gotten used to as he leans into tucking it away into a cupboard. Highly organised, apparently. Fishing out his blackglass from his pocket and walks back to Garrus slowly as if nothing at all strange had happened. ] Your kind does not have vendettas?

[...what just happened. That's as creepy as fuck and Garrus feels something entirely primitive in his own self at the instinctual gut reaction to the way Corvo just moved. The sound that had gone with it, the scent... Nothing in Corvo's file had prepared Garrus for that.

For a moment after Corvo has asked the question Garrus doesn't even realize the guy spoke. Then he hears it and his brain catches up.

Garrus could lie. Say they didn't have vendettas. But that's not his way. That, and he's lousy at lying.]

We do. Though we don't rely on luck to settle it. We pretty much just shoot whomever was the problem. Or we saw as the problem. Don't really have much faith in luck at all.

[Turians had faith in themselves.]

[ It gets exactly the response he wants and there's a half hidden smile, kept to himself and perfectly, perfectly smug. ]

We have that. Duelling is very common for disputes of honour. Very... regimented. [ shrugs, more than a few duels himself. ] Strict rules about it too. Otherwise men would shoot each other just for looking.

[ Settles himself comfortably across from the other man, as comfortable as he ever got. ] Mostly, these are for the hopeless. Sailors make them, and they don't expect to see past twenty five most of them. I think they'll take whatever they can get. [ Normal enough to him, for his background and the way he has lived his life, Corvo knows the miracle it is that he's seen past thirty let alone almost forty.

More over, there's the one strapped to the belt on his chest, softly humming the same way his magic did, but quieter, written into skin. ]

You're from a water world? A particularly harsh one?

[Desperate people do go for anything that will help. Even little charms that won't make a difference, carved from bones in hope of power.

...then again, this guy just did something to go from one side of the room to another. Maybe there's something he can do to the bones he carves. Gives them some sort of electrical charge. Time-release vitamins. Something.]

And desperation can turn anything into a luck charm. Rocks, bones. Socks. Hell, leaves. Thankfully we're not quite as quick to kill each other, and we live a bit longer.

[ Nods, yes, water world is one term for it. ] It is the only one I know, so I cannot say if it harsher or not. It seems to most it is.

[ Jasper's hushed fear as he asks questions like they are ghost stories, Terra's withdrawn sad eyes, Wade's disgust and chiding tone about it. The perspective he has that, yes, perhaps it is harsh, and he understands a little why Garrus would use the word primitive. The guns, the way they travel, the fact that so few he's met have only ever had the transport of their own feet as a way of getting about. How much they took for granted, how much choice they took for granted. The want of better things they did not even understand they had. The food even that they called it bland and sparse was more than some families ate in a week, let alone rationed. It did not even have mould in it. He's sure that it's much better, to know you could live longer, to not slaughter for no reason than petty laziness. ]

Be happy that you have never be so desperate to make Gods out of rocks. [ He says it light as he can, because the bitterness is constant thing in him, and as easily dismissed. It is after all, not Garrus's fault, and he would never be the kind to begrudge another their better lot. Only the deeds they did. ]

Edited 2015-03-24 04:38 (UTC)

[He's been to one water world. It isn't anything he'd ever like to revisit, and not a type of world he'd feel comfortable with. That being said, Corvo's people had evolved to live on that world. They have to be used to it. And the comment gets a tilt of Garrus' head.]

We rely on ourselves.

[His voice is mild enough, subharmonics a faint buzz. Turians face their threats head on, by themselves. And it's not like their current threat is a small one. The reapers are everywhere, powerful, lethal, and the situation is close to desperate. But they're never going to turn to rocks.]

Should we talk about what you wanted me here for? Figuring out pictures and attachments.

[ There's a smile, quick and clever and ultimately cruel for the second it's there. ]

The Abbey would like your people.

[ But he pushes on, he's happy enough to leave it be, it's not a thing he can explain without knowing how wretched he himself was, and he does his best, most days to do otherwise.

Better to focus on the things he can do, can be capable of, and he takes the change of topic easily, much better. ] Yes, certainly.

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