anderwhohn - Tumblr blog

[anderwhohn]

@smokedanced asked: Send "shut up and dance with me!" for your muse to drag mine out onto the dance floor / garrus for izzy in hierarchy

💌 private meme collection

"Garrus," she hisses, subtly trying to tug her hand free from his grip even as he pulls her to her feet, panic filling her emerald gaze despite her efforts to keep from broadcasting her emotions for every other turian in attendance. She's certain, if she had subvocals of her own, there would be no hiding the anxiety and embarrassment she feels as she's certain they'd be going haywire as she's guided to the dance floor by her best friend who happens to also be her superior officer.

Of course, she knows the steps of the dance - every turian in Hierarchy space does, as is expected of them by their society - but she also knows that she's at a disadvantage due to her shorter stature and the different shape of her legs, coming across more as an inexperienced adolescent rather than a competent adult when she struggles to keep up with the turians she's had to dance with in the past. And if it only brought embarrassment and shame to her, Isabela could live with it, but with it reflecting poorly on both her clan and her dance partner...

Spirits, Castis is going to more pissed at her than usual when this is done, especially with Councillor Sparatus and the various Primarchs - including Primarch Fedorian - in attendance at this event.

Looking up at Garrus helplessly, she quietly submits to his silent demands, the majority of the onlookers none the wiser of the subtle show of defiance and insubordination on her part as she readies herself the best she can, hoping against hope that she can at least perform well enough to not thoroughly disgrace her stubborn friend.

[anderwhohn]

@smokedanced asked: [ 17 ] an entirely water-covered planet with structures built above the stormy seas for safety / garrus for izzy in compact

💌 private meme collection

Stepping out of the shuttle onto the landing platform, Isabela pauses to look out over the choppy ocean waters, for a moment reminded of the day she first arrived on Kahje as a small child, the wonder of water as far as the eye could see in every direction with only the Life Domes providing solid surfaces for the drell and other species visiting the hanar homeworld.

It's little surprise that the hanar chose this planet to colonise as they expanded into the stars, another ocean world prime for the taking by the aquatic species. Life Domes are sparse on this world, only providing enough to facilitate trade and to house the drell serving within the Compact.

Turning at the sound of the others stepping out of the shuttle, she nods to them before heading towards the covered entrance to the dome. "Thane, I trust you know your way around. Be back at the rendezvous in an hour for the hearing."

"Of course," Thane agrees easily, bowing slightly to the both of them before breaking away once they reach the dome interior in order to attend to his own business.

Isabela hesitates for a moment, wary as she looks around at the near exclusive hanar and drell wandering the dome, because while she may feel at home in such a place, bringing Garrus here... well...

"Stay close to me," she murmurs quietly, glancing up at her mate. "This world doesn't get many visitors outside of the Primacy, so people are likely going to be suspicious. No doubt we're being shadowed already."

With a weary sigh, she starts back on their path toward the center of the city. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry to be dragging you into this. Hopefully it will simply be a matter of having my records updated to show my status as being bonded, but... My superiors aren't pleased with my 'disappearance' on top of everything else. Having Thane at the hearing should help, but... They may still find it necessary to test my loyalty to the Primacy."

Looking up at him once more with deadly seriousness in her gaze, she notes, "If they do, I need you to promise me you will not interfere. Any action on your part may be seen as outside influence, and they will question if I have defected to the Hierarchy after bonding with you."

[anderwhohn]

Coffee button is intended for Lexi's use only, please. They're too tired to come up with better poll options at the moment after only 2 hours of deep sleep + fucked up dreams.

I'm prepping for some major restructuring and repairs on several pages across all four blogs, which I won't really be able to do until I'm back home at my desktop instead of having to remote into it from an ancient laptop (I've not been home in 4 months, fyi, thus the spotty af and highly limited activity).

But since I didn't get to finish any of my 'end of the year maintenance' stuff, I'm doing what I can to prep for it now while stuck on a single monitor with horrible resolution as it tries to stream a much larger resolution to a smaller screen so everything is shrunk down and ow the eyestrain...

When it comes to the rules page, I'm kinda at odds with how to handle it this time, so here's the deal...

(1) & (2) are incompatible with each other - ie if I have filters, the 'read more' cuts don't work, and vice versa. So it's literally a "one or the other" situation.

[anderwhohn]

I'm prepping for some major restructuring and repairs on several pages across all four blogs, which I won't really be able to do until I'm back home at my desktop instead of having to remote into it from an ancient laptop (I've not been home in 4 months, fyi, thus the spotty af and highly limited activity).

But since I didn't get to finish any of my 'end of the year maintenance' stuff, I'm doing what I can to prep for it now while stuck on a single monitor with horrible resolution as it tries to stream a much larger resolution to a smaller screen so everything is shrunk down and ow the eyestrain...

When it comes to the rules page, I'm kinda at odds with how to handle it this time, so here's the deal...

(1) & (2) are incompatible with each other - ie if I have filters, the 'read more' cuts don't work, and vice versa. So it's literally a "one or the other" situation.

[anderwhohn]

@blitzbefallen asked: "I'm so tired of feeling like I'm constantly disappointing everyone around me." — from Astrid to Izzy

There's a slight smirk playing at Isabela's lips when she leans in to dramatically and deliberately poke Astrid sharply in the shoulder.

"You feel human to me," she quips with a wink before casting a look around to make sure no one's paying them too much attention. "But hey, you know you're not disappointing Hannah, or Anderson, or me, yeah? And I'd bet no one on this crew is disappointed in you. So, who else matters?"

"And if you say Udina, then I'll be disappointed in you. And I might have to disown you. Sorry, fam, but that's just too much for even me to handle."

[anderwhohn]

Javik huffs in exasperation, shrugging as he looks away, his gaze settling on the untouched memory shard her and her crew had discovered alongside his pod. "What alternative do I have?" he counters, knowing full well the answer to that very question. He had been so certain he wouldn't survive to see the other side of the war, and yet...

"Your krogan has offered me a place on Tuchanka, should I wish it. Your asari continues to wish for more details of a people long gone but finally, hopefully, at peace. But you..."

Looking back at her once more, he notes, "You have asked nothing more of me, yet I sense you are not so ready to see me leave. But you have grown... restless, moreso with each passing day..."

                                        @anderwhohn    /    cont from ↷

She looks away when he turns to gaze at her, his eyes too intense; she doesn’t want him to see through her. (But then, what is she here for? If she didn’t want to be seen, why is she here, letting him? It’s a conflicting push and pull on the line of wanting to pretend to be fine, and wanting to stop pretending because she’s exhausted.)

❝ That’s different, ❞    she comments, drawn back into herself again, the raw emotion gone from her body language. She’s not making a move to walk away, either.    ❝ That’s the most hope I’ve heard you express. That... that’s good. ❞

It’s not that she thinks they’re the same; that’d be dismissive of Javik being the last of his kind. It’s different. She can’t imagine his pain. But... It’s also, maybe, while not similar, at least familiar. They are both the product of war and battle, and now that it’s over...?    ❝ Do you really believe that? ❞    He’s not the type to say things just to make someone else feel better, but she doesn’t want to say what she really thinks: that maybe there can be no place in peace for someone who’s lost themselves into war. She doesn’t think she can ever feel at home anywhere, doesn’t think she can be herself outside of being a soldier. Of course, she still is. But what to do with free time? She doesn’t want war, but she doesn’t know what else to do than to fight.

[anderwhohn]

Isabela huffs in what seems to be bemused agreement, a slight smirk playing at her lips as she shrugs, unapologetic as she offers, "You're a danger, whether you want to be or not."

Her smirk fades as she listens, trying to make some sense of what's different between then besides the obvious. It's the way Wren talks about the Alliance as though it were its own truly separate entity and not a subsidiary of the Hierarchy after humanity became a client race that has her frowning, brow furrowed in thought.

"This was a Cerberus ship - they constructed it from designs for the SR-2 stolen from the Hierarchy. While some of the crew is still Cerberus, they barely staffed the ship beyond little more than a skeleton crew, and after facing a tribunal with the Hierarchy, I was allowed to request a full staffing of volunteers for this mission," she offers, her gaze flicking away to look around the cargo bay thoughtfully.

"The Alliance... My guess is that it doesn't hold the same status as it does where you're from... Humanity lost the war in the Relay 314 Incident, and were inducted as a client race of the Turian Hierarchy, after three years of fighting. The Alliance is an auxiliary of the turian military, much like the volus bombing fleet."

Looking back at the prisoner, she notes, "I was six years old, orphaned on the streets of Earth, when I was found by a turian patrol, only days after the fighting stopped, where they then took me to the Citadel for medical care and was deemed a ward of the state. I grew up on Palaven, and am the only human to date with citizenship above the first tier in the entirety of the meritocracy."

But it's not like there aren't Alliance members on the ship, though she continues to watch Wren closely as she notes, "Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau is our pilot - I wouldn't trust anyone else at the helm. And Major Doctor Karin Chakwas is our Chief Medical Officer, given her expertise with a wider range of anatomy beyond just human."

"I had to stop Nihlus from trying to arrest Kasumi - she was with me when I reported to the turian embassy to arrange a meeting with the Council, and to arrange the tribunal for my... unexpected leave of absence... Zaeed... Well, Urdnot Wrex says he's worth having onboard, and if he proves otherwise, to shoot him. There's only one merc I truly trust, and Wrex is it, so we'll see how well Massani plays with others."

As for the situation on Omega... Isabela sighs wearily as she explains, "Aria told me of the plague, but the situation regarding Archangel was much more time sensitive. Fortunately, the mercs were a chatty bunch, and their encryption was horrible, so it didn't take long to sabotage their efforts before getting across the bridge." Shaking her head at that thought, she absently rubs the shoulder where Garrus had clipped her with a concussive round. "It wasn't enough, thanks to how the mercs were already entrenched, but at least we didn't end up with any casualties..."

"After getting Garrus off that shithole of a station, I immediately went back while Chakwas and the med team worked on saving his hide in order to recruit Dr. Solus - he was present for the actual surgeries. Lawson wasn't happy we were using Cerberus cybernetics, but between myself, the good doctors, and Nihlus, she came around."

There's a deadly sharpness to her smirk then at that thought before she shrugs. "I won't let anyone compromise those few that I trust and care about, and Garrus and I have been friends ever since he enlisted into boot camp. Much of the Cerberus crew weren't exactly thrilled when I brought in a more trustworthy, loyal crew. Should the Illusive Dick try anything, we're more than prepared and appropriately staffed to handle the situation."

Watching their prisoner's reaction with curious interest, Isabela frowns at the woman's shift in demeanour as she seems to retreat the moment Garrus looks at her. For someone who seemed so adamant that she would die for the turian, she certainly had an odd way of showing it once presented with the man himself.

"She says her name is Wren Shepard - presumably no relation, but who knows?" she offers in their shared tongue, glancing up at him to see if there's any indication that he recognises the name beyond the shared family name. "Beyond that, we only have her word for now, and... her word doesn't make any sense."

She goes on to explain everything they know so far, how the woman simply appeared on the ship, how she knew about Garrus's true identity when no one else should have been aware he was even in this sector of space, the rather mad claims she made about their present being her past, and how Isabela will be reaching out to Bau in hopes of getting assistance from the salarian Spectre with acquiring something from STG to help determine if the woman is telling the truth.

When Garrus offers to help with the interrogation, Isabela shakes her head, looking at him in fond exasperation. "You know normally I wouldn't argue with your expertise in the area, Gare, but for now, you need to recover and heal," she murmurs, reaching up to tug him down to her level to press her forehead to his crest affectionately, relief that he's still alive lending itself to her public affection. "Please, Garrus... Get some rest. I'll be up as soon as I'm finished up here."

It's clear that he doesn't want to go - not liking leaving her alone, especially with Nihlus accompanying him to their cabin - but eventually the weariness is too much to handle and keep him on his feet as he grumbles an agreement and lets the older turian help him back to the elevator.

Once the pair were on their way, Isabela turns her focus back on the other human, one brow raised high in silent judgement as she notes, "If what you say is true, and you're some other... me, from a different universe... I don't know if you're more dangerous to have off ship in someone else's hands, or to have you here - especially if your history is as close to mine as it appears at first glance... If you know as much as you claim, who else should be on this ship?"

[anderwhohn]

A low growl rumbles deep within his chest, a slight fluttering of his mandibles the only response to her joke as he casts one more look at her as she moves to follow his orders to shield herself before he slides his helmet back on to start work on the hinges.

A few minutes later, a loud metallic clang echoes through the room as the weight of the door is forced solely on the melted lock, the door straining to remain upright before Nihlus wrenches it open, breaking the welding and throwing the door to the floor.

There's no hesitation as he bends himself to step into the cramped cage, removing his helmet once more before he reaches for her, his hands gentle despite his angry demeanour. Intense green eyes examine her closely as he brushes her hair away from her face to study her. His mandibles slowly relax, his gaze softening as he briefly runs his hand over her hair.

"Can you walk?" he asks quietly, his attention immediately back on examining her from head to toe, the low growling refusing to quiet fully as he's faced with the state she's in. If he could bring the fool mercenary back to life, he'd tear his throat out with his bare claws for what was done to his protégé.

A low growl is all that he offers her at first, forest green eyes cold with predatory instinct as he nearly stalks into the room, seemingly ignoring her as he checks the room for any more mercs before he finally turns his focus on his trapped protégé, carefully squatting in front of the cage to first look over the lock, then to look at her more closely.

His growl deepens at the state she's in, though when his hand moves, it's to remove the canteen on his belt, which he presses insistently against her hand for her to take. "Drink," he orders sharply, leaving no room for argument as his gaze flicks back to the melted lock, mandibles pulled tight against his jaw.

He's still coming down off instincts that are rarely triggered so strongly, but the time it took him and the Normandy crew to actually track Shepard down had worn down his patience and he'd taken it out on the entire base full of mercs, bringing only Vakarian and Wrex with him, as they were the ones least likely to be phased by the shift from his usual demeanour.

"Vakarian and Wrex are on throat-cutting cleanup right now, though it's probably unnecessary. We didn't exactly leave them much chance to flee," he manages eventually, gloved talons brushing over the melted lock thoughtfully before his gaze flicks to the hinges. Undamaged as they were, it shouldn't be too difficult...

Shaking his head at the thought, he activates his omnitool, pulling up the necessary tools and reconfiguring them to turn off the safety protocols in order to overpower his omniblade. "Get back as far as you can, and keep your eyes shielded. I'm going to try cutting the hinges off."

[anderwhohn]

"It's the Illusive Dick - does he need a reason to screw everyone over?" Isabela asks in retort, emerald eyes narrowing as she looks down at her captured wrist before levelling a pointed look on Blair. "Cerberus assassin. Plus some sword wielding biotics, another biotic spec ops, and the typical Cerberus grunts."

"Udina is involved," she adds an almost afterthought. "Valern actually called about it, wanting Nihlus and me to look into it. Only when we got here, we got the SOS that Cerberus was attacking, so we helped Bailey retake C-Sec and chased the assassin here."

With a further pointed look, she smirks as she notes, "The assassin you're now keeping us from chasing, by the way, so if you're coming, you'd better hustle. Grab what thermal clips you can find along the way and let's go."

Whether either of them like it or not, this is unintentionally Izzy's mission, and it's clear in the way that she finally starts to pull away, heading towards the elevator. "Oh, and I wrecked a C-Sec skycar on the way here, but it wasn't my fault - it got stabbed by a Phantom mid-air. So don't let these two complain about my horrible driving."

Too much time had passed by the time Blair had been cleared for discharge from Huerta Memorial Hospital. Isabella's updates from the Normandy about the war against the Reapers were, well, startling to say the least. Palaven was already facing a heavy front from the Reapers, meaning that humanity was no longer alone in this fight. But asking for help didn't come without a price.

Curing the genophage, she cured the fucking genophage. Not to mention she was up close with a Reaper in that whole process. Her sister sure got reckless without Blair around to take the heat. Who the hell came up with the idea to sic a thresher maw on a Reaper?

Thoughts crash together in Shepard's head, too many to filter out in the middle of an attack. A headache is the least of her worries when Cerberus forces have taken to the Citadel en masse, causing chaos and casualties aplenty. Just what the hell was the Illusive Man trying to achieve here?

Blair had only finished clearing an area of the Presidium's market of Cerberus troopers, having invoked Spectre authority to "claim" a shotgun from a store whose owner was cowering behind the counter. Thankfully the terrified salarian didn't object. She looks over her shoulder to the upper floor where she had last seen her companion, Thane, who was no longer there. No doubt he was utilizing his skills as an assassin to blend in amongst the chaos and pick off enemies where he could.

It would have been an understatement to say that Blair was violently shocked when an unexpected weight slammed into her. If Izzy's tactical cloak had taken any second longer to dissipate, there was no guarantee that Blair wouldn't have struck her sister with full force biotics. She's barely able to register Izzy's presence before Nihlus is behind her, urging her to continue their mission.

"The Council–? Isabella, what the hell is going on? Why is Cerberus attacking the Citadel?" Blair's demand for answers force her to grab Izzy's wrist, stopping her and refusing to let her continue without her. "You are not doing this without me, Izzy. Not anymore. If the Council's in danger, I need you to fill me on while we're on the way to save them."

The reports could wait.

[anderwhohn]

A mischievous smirk plays at her lips with his groan, fingers focusing on the spots that get the most reaction from him before she finds herself pushed back to meet his gaze. That same smirk fades as he pushes, the sparkle in her eyes dimming as she closes herself off in an instant.

There are things she doesn't want to think about, things that were done to her, that she had no say in or control over, while she was dead - things that Cerberus did to bring her back to life - and some of those things have left very obvious, glowing scars littering her body. Human flesh is sensitive to turian talons and plating at the best of times, but when already more vulnerable than usual with the recent surgeries to piece her back together from 'just meat and tubes'?

"It's nothing to worry about," she insists, a bitter edge tinging her voice. She's been through far worse, after all - not that he would accept that, she's almost certain. With a weary sigh, she squirms to wiggle herself free of his arm to put more space between them, her mood dampening with her discomfort with the conversation.

"Chakwas says the scars aren't exactly healing like you'd normally expect. And I'm still... adjusting... to how everything's different. I... My body doesn't feel like my own anymore," she admits quietly, unable to meet his gaze while doing so. "But this helped... You help. I..."

Closing her eyes against the tears trying to well in her eyes, she mutters, "I needed this... To really feel this body as my own. And... I needed to feel you... in all this... To make the last two years real for me..."

@smokedanced asked: ❛ i didn’t actually hurt you too much, did i ? ❜ / aftercare meme garrus for izzy!

💌 aftercare sentence starters [ meme - not accepting ]

Emerald eyes blink open drowsily to look at him, her brow furrowing with just a hint of exasperated frustration at what she feels is undue concern for her. Reaching up, she presses her fingers over his mouthplates, mumbling a quiet 'shush' at him before she drags herself up a little higher on his chest to better meet his gaze.

"Garrus," she sighs, leaning in to press her forehead to his, nuzzling into the action with obvious affection for her turian, even if he can be ridiculous at moments like this. "I promise, if you're ever too rough with me, you'll be the first to know. I know my safe words. And I trust you - I know you'll stop the moment I might need you to."

Clever fingers work their way up from his cowl to gently caress his neck, working their way up behind his head and under his fringe. "I want you, and that means all of you, talons and all. So stop overthinking it and just enjoy knowing that out of all the people in the galaxy, you are the only one who gets to have me all to yourself."

[anderwhohn]

Smiling with fond exasperation, she shakes her head before taking another sip of her drink, only to pause when his hand begins sliding over her hip. Breath catching as it comes to rest on her thigh, she looks from his hand back to him, her gaze darkened, but with undeniable lust as she subconsciously leans a little closer to him.

"Well," she starts, her smile turning more coy as she allows his hand to remain where it is as she takes another drink. "You found me. I just... needed off that ship for a bit..." All the security cameras and the ever present AI certainly don't make it easy for her to relax on the Normandy. Especially with so few people that she feels she can trust onboard. It says a lot when she feels safer being alone on Omega than she does on the ship.

Not to mention the unnerving feeling that she's wrong in a way that few other things in the galaxy is, when people keep getting startled simply by her presence once they realise who she is. For now, aside from Aria and some of her lieutenants, few people pay much attention to who she might be beyond a human clearly more comfortable around other species than many of her own. Unlike on the ship, where she's even caught Chakwas and Joker seeming to have to remind themselves that she's really alive again...

It's overwhelming, to say the least, especially when, for her, it had only been days since she was laying under the mako with Garrus, pulling out geth pieces from the undercarriage, trying not to grin at his clearly exasperated grumbling at the damage done to the vehicle because she'd decided to simply run over the geth when the main gun overheated while chasing after Saren on Ilos.

Strange to think how those had been simpler times, facing down galactic extinction at the hands of an indoctrinated Spectre hellbent on opening a relay to dark space for the Reapers. Only now, a few weeks later from her perspective, the galaxy is at risk again with the Collectors getting increasingly bold and entire human colonies disappearing.

"Sorry if I worried you," she offers softly, one hand coming to rest on his, though doing so only seems to bring her own attention to just how high on her thigh it rests and she squirms a little in her seat at the thought. "I... I didn't want to bother you, when you were finally getting some rest..."

@smokedanced asked: [ possessive ] your muse resting their hand on mine’s leg or the small of their back while they’re sitting beside each other . / garrus for izzy

While she would never admit to it aloud, there is one thing that Isabela was in complete agreement with Miranda Lawson on: Omega is a piss hole…

And yet, she herself finds some comfort in the strange familiarity of the place after the few years she spent on the streets of Earth, running with gangs that wouldn't put too much thought to her oddly alien behaviour as she adjusted to being human again before approaching the next phase of her assigned mission in her youth. Though it's probably that comfort, even among criminals, murderers, and thieves, that draws more than a little of the attention that she's gained to her, even as all she's done is to take a seat at the bar after putting her drink order in with the turian bartender.

While never fully taking her eyes off the turian handling her drink, she does spare enough of her attention to her surroundings, taking note of the piqued interest a number of the other patrons have taken in her. It's flattering, in a way, particularly when she knows how many of the other species view humans, and yet a wasted endeavour for anyone who decides to try their luck with her.

Emerald eyes focus back on the bartender as she nods in thanks when her drink is placed on the bar in front of her, taking it in hand to sip at. At least until a familiar weight and warmth of a three-fingered hand comes to rest on the small of her back as a different turian invites himself to the stool next to hers.

A wry smirk tugs at her lips as she looks up at Garrus, a single brow raised in silent question at the way his talons curl slightly into the material of the jacket she wears, though there's a hint of uncertainty that lingers in her gaze as she's still clearly thrown by the lack of the auditory implants that once allowed her to fully hear subvocalisations. Between her missing implants and his claim on her as bondmates, she is certainly finding herself at odds with this strange new galaxy two years past what she last remembers…

Another sleepless night had led her to leaving the docked ship to venture alone into Afterlife, but she hadn't expected any of the crew to follow her. Though, in hindsight, she should have known her mate would track her down as soon as he realised she was no longer on the Normandy…

"Hey, you," she murmurs in quiet greeting, head tilting to the side slightly in curious interest as she eyes him while taking another sip of her drink. "Everything okay on the ship?"

[anderwhohn]

A bitter laugh escapes her at that, sneering at him as she retorts, "You sound just like a slaver - they made the same claim when they stole us from our colony to use as toys for their pleasure." Rather than speaking in her native tongue, as she's come to learn that most people outside of her home system don't even have her language in their translators, she speaks in a heavily accented Galactic Trade Standard, her tone sharp with a defensive edge.

"I will not be taken again!" she snarls, her amber eyes all but glowing in the dim Omega light, far more reflective than most of the other species in the galaxy. But while she's used to fighting those larger than herself, turians aren't usually ones she faces head-on, so one moment she's stabbing her blade towards a weak point in his armour, the next she finds her wrist caught and the turian clearly aiming to take the blade from her.

Rage burns in her eyes as she kicks out, aiming for his knee, hoping to catch him off guard enough to loosen his hold on her, while her other hand goes for one of the flash grenades at her hip.

@smokedanced (Garrus) || semiplotted starter.

It's been weeks since she first arrived via a transit ship to Omega with little more than her mother's old beat up armour and pistol, a 'borrowed' sniper rifle that she never returned, and whatever credits she had managed to scavenge from the base and pockets of the dead slavers she left behind in the aftermath of the slaughter during her simultaneous escape and rescue mission when her colony had been raided and her and several other women stolen to be…

Don't go there…

Shaking her head in a vain attempt to get that memory out of her mind, she sighs as she looks around the streets on her way back to her apartment from Afterlife. Being of one of the lesser known non-council races, it hadn't been difficult to gain entry, as she was more of a curiosity for Aria than anything else at the moment, though it had earned her a couple interesting job offers in the process.

So far, she's yet to accept. But that's only because of the credits she's currently got stashed. Eventually, she knows she'll have to find something more sustainable than dealing with the slavers that pass through the station. For now, though, she's perfectly content doing just that, as that was the very reason she'd been forced to leave her home behind, to protect her family and her own life from those who wanted revenge for her single-handedly wiping out the entire ring of slavers on Denerim.

Another corner, and her long, pointed ears twitch slightly at the sound of armoured feet shifting behind her. She's been aware of her shadow for days now, but beyond a brief glimpse of dark blue armour, she knew little more beyond the fact that the one following her was turian.

She continues walking at a steady pace, only picking up her speed a bit while going down another set of stairs before turning down another familiar corridor. She knows she can't deviate from her path tonight - it'd be a clear sign that she's on to him, and she's already back on one of her familiar routes.

One more corner, sharper this time, and she moves toward the shadows, activating her cloak as she waits for the turian to round the corner after her. The moment that he does, she pulls her belt knife free from its sheathe as she lunges at him, the cloak advanced enough to give her a couple seconds of continued invisibility before she appears seemingly out of thin air when she's nearly right on top of him.

[anderwhohn]

"Ah," Isabela starts, feigning embarrassment as she shifts to stand more casually, forcing herself to relax a bit and allow herself to fidget as if self-conscious. "I've been waiting for a message from my family to come through, but my omnitool is faulty, and I haven't had a chance to replace it yet," she offers in a mixture of lies and half-truths.

She is waiting on a message - albeit from her handlers rather than family - but her omnitool is perfectly functional, just locked down so much that it would appear faulty to anyone without extensive technical knowledge, with the extra encryption and limited network connectivity to ensure her data - particularly her Illuminated Primacy ID - stays hidden from the galaxy at large.

Knowing she hasn't done anything more than weird out some people who noticed she wasn't acting as human as she appears to be, she tries flashing him a sheepish smile, "It still occasionally lets me connect to the public terminals' networks, but not the wider comms system, so I've been stuck here waiting for hours."

"Last time I checked, there wasn't anything wrong with that, is there?" she asks, cocking her head a bit as she looks up at him curiously, hoping that he wouldn't push the issue for her identification, because at this point, she was going to have to find another access point to check the dead drop inbox in hopes that the message came through while she's been dealing with this.

@smokedanced || semiplotted starter.

She should have known better. The last time she spent any significant time on the Citadel, she was much younger, only a child at the time, one of the many 'duct rats' as they have come to be called. Or, as she knows of them herself now, the drala'fa - 'the ignored'.

Now, however, she's an adult, and at this exact moment, one her handlers would no doubt be frowning in disapproval at had they been around to see her at any point in the last several hours as she has waited by the public terminals, growing increasingly more antsy the longer time passes without a message received.

She's awaiting orders, and not from who most would assume based on her species and the Systems Alliance dog tags tucked away under her shirt. She's not in uniform, instead having opted to spend what time she has left on this shore leave in standard civilian clothing, only neither does she hold herself as most human soldiers do, even those who had undergone the rigorous training of the N7 program.

Just as she also manages not to hold herself as one would expect of an untrained human civilian, her training under the Compact giving her a harder edge than most humans on the Citadel, more of what you'd expect to see from one of the few drell that occasionally board the station.

So to say that Isabela is annoyed at herself when she's approached by a turian in C-Sec armour is an understatement, her emerald green eyes narrowing even as she quickly scans the area for any other officers.

Just the one…

She knows it's far too late to try to look like a perfectly innocent civilian tourist, so she doesn't even try to change her demeanour, simply shifting her weight to better position herself in case she needs to bolt. But for now, she'll at least try to see if she can talk her way out of this - it wouldn't be the first time.

"Is there a problem, Officer?" she asks, crossing her arms as she subtly disconnects her omnitool from the network, not wanting to risk the message from the Primacy coming in with C-Sec actively watching her.

[anderwhohn]

@bloodiedbiotic || semiplotted starter

The sheer relief of seeing Blair up and fighting again after the incident on Mars was enough that Isabela doesn't even think when she practically launches herself at her older sister despite her tactical cloak not yet having worn out, forgetting for the moment the only ones keyed into it for tracking her movement are the pair of turians on her own six as she practically wraps herself around Blair just a second before the cloak shimmers and dissipates.

"Don't ever leave me like that again," Izzy mutters quietly, barely holding back the sob wanting to escape her.

In the weeks since Blair was injured by the Cerberus mech, Izzy's had to deal with Alenko throwing a fit over Hackett appointing her as the de facto commanding officer of the Normandy until Blair recovers, dealing with the Council, having Sparatus blindside her by his appointing Nihlus as her Spectre mentor for immediate training as the second human Spectre, rescuing Palaven's primarch, double checking the mech's hardware after EDI took it over, helping EDI calibrate the mech for combat situations, dealing with even more politicians in the war summit, stopping Cerberus from blowing up Tuchanka with a turian doomsday bomb, taking out a Reaper with the mother of all thresher maws, curing the genophage, securing an alliance between turians and krogan, quietly being appointed as a Spectre so that she can continue to work mostly from the shadows, saving Jack and her biotic students from Cerberus, nearly getting abducted by Cerberus herself, and now trying to stop a coup staged by Cerberus with Udina as a puppet while chasing an assassin to keep him from killing the Council. To say she's a bit overwhelmed and stressed would be an understatement of the century.

As a three fingered hand comes to rest on her shoulder, Izzy looks up at Nihlus as he squeezes in silent reassurance before looking around at the damage caused by Cerberus. "We need to push forward - the Council is still in danger," he notes gently, a quiet apology for interrupting their reunion tinging his dual tones.

Izzy frowns, but nods slowly, holding onto Blair more tightly for just a moment before finally letting go, pulling herself back together in order to get through the rest of the mission. "Just so you know, you've got a stack of paperwork piling up on your desk," she says with a pointed look at her sister. "I figured my saving the galaxy for you in the meantime was more than enough. You get to handle the reports."

Though she knows Joker at least did most of the actual work with those after getting Izzy to tell him about each mission in an informal debrief, leaving it mostly to Blair to just sign off on everything. But she's feeling petty enough to not mention that in light of all the political bullshit she had to endure to get this far.

[anderwhohn]

@smokedanced asked: [ FORMAL ] ― for sender to tie receiver's wrists together with their tie. / post undercover mission garrus for izzy in... hierarchy

Undercover work is always taxing for Isabela, largely in part due to her typically having to play at not being loyal to her adoptive homeworld, to coax suspected rebels - both humans and, more rarely, turians - into revealing themselves before any actions can be taken to eliminate the threat of a full scale uprising from occurring.

Relieved for the mission itself to be over for now, she walks arm-in-arm with Garrus back to the skycar, her own thoughts focused on getting out of this gown and back into her typical envirosuit. As nice as the gown is, she feels awkward in the asari dresses that many human women have taken a liking to, especially with the cutouts at her waist, baring hints of skin to the open for anyone to see.

Distracted as she is, she barely takes note of Garrus opening the car door for her, helping her inside before going around to the driver seat himself. Staring out the window as they fly back toward the Presidium, she's caught offguard when her wrists are lifted from her lap, emerald eyes widening as she looks back to find Garrus tying her wrists together with his tie.

Breath catching in her throat, she doesn't put up even a playful token resistance, instead only looking at him with a mix of curiosity and vulnerability as her focus sharpens once more, centered entirely on him rather than anything else that has happened this evening, save for briefly wondering...

"Did I do something wrong, sir?" she asks quietly, a touch wary that, in her distraction, she had missed something important.

[anderwhohn]

Her gaze snaps to Garrus's at his growled denial, a quiet whimper involuntarily pulled from her in response. She knows, without a doubt, that if she were to make the call and outright tell him to stop, that he would, and yet... even as a whine of protest escapes her as he stills, announcing his intentions for how this is going to go, there's only implicit trust for him in her emerald eyes as she looks up at him even as he pins her more securely under him.

"No no no! Don't stop. Don't--ooh," she moans as he pulls out, focusing on teasing her further instead. She's no stranger to sex with turians, but she never expected a suggestion of blowing off steam with her best friend to turn into anything like this.

"Please," she begs with a frustrated sob, trying to squirm under him, whether to escape his gentle teasing or to find more of it, even she can't say anymore. "I... I'll be good," she whines as she tilts her head to bare her throat to him. "Just please..."

prev. reply ↷

Garrus, carefully, holds Izzy just still enough that he can be in control; that he can make sure he’s not harming her. It’s... He’s never had sex with a human, before. Not one to enjoy casual things, he’s only ever had few sexual partners, all of them turian. A part of him wishes he could be... more experienced, for her (because he’s nervous, but mostly because she’s so delicate, like all humans, all soft flesh and thin skin), but he’s never even been with an asari; no one with similar physique. He’s been stubborn against her reassurances. There’s a lot on the line, here! They... they’ve known each other for so long. He doesn’t want to risk their friendship by doing this wrong.

Unexpectedly, her reassurances turning into... pleas... do something to him.

❝ No, ❞    he growls, more subvocals than words. He stops moving for a moment, just to admire her coming undone beneath him. Still, inside her.    ❝ I want to be gentle with you. ❞    It’s not the most exciting kind of dirty talk. But he’s made up his mind.

He pulls out, only to rub his cock against her clit instead. One hand holds her by the hips, the other by a wrist, talons filed down but pressing into her flesh; not hard enough to leave bruises but firm enough to hold her still. Still can’t quite believe they’re doing this.

[anderwhohn]

❌ female

❌ male

✔️ Entity