text; un: archangel | Free Snacks

[thearchangel]

Type: Text
Sender ID: thearchangel (Garrus Vakarian)
To: Everyone
Subject: House cleaning with your neighborhood alien.
Warnings: None

Does anyone want any of this?

[Attached to the message is an image of many, many boxes of Pocky. There's so much. And it's all untouched.]

Before anyone asks "what kind is there", there's all kinds. No, I'm not selling it, just come take it away. Yes, I know there's a lot. No, I'm not going to eat it.

It's not opened, either. I just don't want it.

[Someone finally went back to his hole in the wall apartment after... a long time, and decided to finally clean house.]

Comments

[thearchangel]

[True to his word, he's waiting there, in the dingy little hole. In a corner, closest to the fireplace, fully wearing his armor, his rifle neatly stowed on his back. There's no drink in front of him, nothing. But it means there's space to drum his fingers on the tabletop.]

[He doesn't want to be here, waiting. He wants to be out, moving, working. Keeping busy so he doesn't have to think about... everything. That's for the best, isn't it?]

[He's easy to spot, even if he wasn't in such a prominent place. People are giving him a wide berth. It must be the sadsack aura he's radiating.]

[tilfrosset]

[As much as a noble lady as Jill presents to be, she's been in some real dirt encrusted places. This inn would hit the middle of the list, so there's no hesitation in her step as she makes Garrus out in the dim candlelight. It's clear he doesn't want to be here, clear he doesn't want her here, clear he doesn't want her here with him, but too bad for him. Jill does not plan on leaving this man, Turian or not, to his own devices. Not until she knows what's got him tearing himself apart on the inside.

No drink. No mug full of half-drunk, lukewarm ale in front of him means Jill can't use it to judge how long Garrus has been sitting here. In the end, it doesn't matter. It just means there's more room for her to plop the basket on the table with purpose and remain standing as she unravels the blanket that covers it.

There's not much of a ceremony when she takes a wrapped sandwich out and places it in front of Garrus before sitting down across from him. He may claim he's already eaten, but she's deal with enough depressed men in her life to know not to take what they say at face value.]

It's ham. Fresh from the butcher.

[thearchangel]

[He exhales, slowly. It flares his mandible out off his jaw, before they click back into place. In the buzz of ambient conversation, it's probably not audible. He shifts in his seat, either because he's uncomfortable under her scrutiny or because there isn't a chair in this world that he doesn't have to hunch into.]

You didn't need to do this.

[No, he doesn't want her here. He doesn't want to have whatever conversation she's trying to have. He'd much rather compartmentalize and move on. Go to work. Just do... anything. Something besides sitting here talking when talking never helps a damned thing.]

I'm not - I'm capable of looking after myself.

[tilfrosset]

[The flexing of his mandible, something strange and still odd to her with it being non-human, should intimidate her, but Jill has faced bigger foes than one sad alien. While she doesn't think anything between her and Garrus would come to blow, she still doesn't want him going out there to hunt while distracted by his problems.]

I wanted to.

[Jill thought she made that clear from the get go, but apparently Garrus will only learn via repetition. So be it. She's here because she cares, because she will go to the farthest ends of the world for the people she cares for. Garrus just so happens to find himself snagged in that trap.]

I never said you weren't. I merely just asked if you ate.

[Probably seems the same to him, but for her, the questions are as far apart as humans and Turians for Jill. When was the last time he ate? Was it something substantial or if he at the juncture in his life where he is taking in the barest of notion because the sadness is taking over and there's no point?]

If you're not fond of ham, there is chicken too. Turkey was sold out and I didn't want to chance you not liking fish by buying it.

[Now she's seemingly talking just to talk, but Jill has a method to her madness. She told him he is a friend, someone she considers everything about even down to sandwich fixings. But mostly, she knows depression and this? This is that. And if her own tussles with emotions that one would rather swallow and ignore has told her is that doing so will only cause not only some bad indigestion but a regurgitation of them when it pushing them down gets to be too much.

Her damaged apartment will agree.]

[thearchangel]

[Garrus is a smart man, but he's also so very dumb. Especially in non-military social situations. Like this one. Like every time he's spiraled before. When he just wants to walk away and not... try to do this. Try to discuss the problem. It never helps a damned thing. People pushing doesn't help either.]

Isn't that the same thing?

[He'd probably just shoved the nearest edible thing into his mouth and kept going. It made sense! He had a job to do. He had somewhere to be. Something to keep himself occupied. He shrugs a shoulder, dragging a hand down his face.]

I don't have a preference. It's all new to me. Is that everything you wanted to do?

[He knows he's brushing her off, and, logically, that she's trying to be helpful, but he doesn't want help like this. There is nothing anyone can do to fix this. He can't even blame someone, because it's no one's fault, either. Somehow, that just makes it ten times worse.]

[tilfrosset]

It is not. One is an assumption on the whole. The other is a concern.

[She speaks in a calm, even tone, not at all offended by how he's continuing to push her away. He would not be the first person she's dealt with who would resort to punching and stabbing and shooting their pain away. He won't be the last.]

No.

[Again, even toned. If anything, the way Jill answers says she has a lot more she wants to do and they'll be here for a while so he better settle in and grab a sandwich. Though she'll have mercy on him and push the ham one closer towards him.

He may not want the help, but by the Founder, it's the help he's going to get.]

I will advise you that I tend to be stubborn. I doubt you'll outlast me on this.

[So give up now Garrus. Tell her what's wrong and this whole meeting will end much faster and perhaps on a happier note.]

[thearchangel]

[He doesn't. He doesn't want it from anyone. That's always the problem with him, one he thought he'd gotten over - when he'd gone home, sucked it up and talked with his family again. He thought being back aboard the Normandy, a whole damn war, would be enough to push down the tendencies he had to go off the handle.]

[Apparently not.]

[His mandible flexes, an unconscious show of teeth for the brief moment it happens - before he can smooth his expression back down again. Fortunately for everyone, it's directed at the sandwich. Like he needs to be taken care of or something.]

You should meet Tali'zorah. You two would get along. [There's irritation in the echoes under his words. Even though he's fighting to keep his actual tone even.] Or maybe you could convince her she needs a house.

[Fine he'll eat the damn sandwich ugh. If he tears at it a little too sharply, no he didn't.]

[tilfrosset]

Would it be safe to assume that Tali'zorah is the same Tali you mentioned earlier?

[His irritation is heard, noted, and promptly ignored for the moment. Garrus isn't lashing out at her so unless he does, Jill will continue doing what she's doing.

Like pulling out a sandwich for herself. She unwraps it neatly before taking a small polite bite, a habit born of the Ducal Lady Training™. Chewing happens for a moment and then swallowing, and finally once her mouth is empty, speaking.]

And why would I do that?

[thearchangel]

Yeah, that's her.

[Talking about Tali is easier. It's better. Tali is familiar and annoying and they're practically family at this point.]

[He's got control of himself not to lash out physically. Not unless someone is attacking first. Or really, really deserves it. His irritation is verbal, clipped and harsh, his vocal reverb practically a growl he can't exactly do anything about.]

Because she's living outdoors. In this damned weather.

[Tali is a problem that can be solved. An issue he can do something about. Not like what's actually bothering him.]