[Reminder that I don’t like anon hate. You wanna attack to them you best do it with your face shown and fight like a real warrior, you chicken shit. If you can’t take the heat than don’t jump in the fire in the first place, like goddamn.
[Second of all, don’t be sending people anon hate on my behalf. I’m an adult and can take care of my own fights. Thank.
[Now I’mma go back to my other account and be a lazy piece while my unofficial assumed temporary hiatus continues. kthnx.]
Any other birds you're fond of besides peacocks?
Quetzals have a certain flare about them…
IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAD TO MARRY SOMEONE YOU KNOW WHO WOULD IT BE
What kind of situation would even call for that?
That’s actually quite the difficult quandary. I know a lot of impressive people. So few who share interests of mine that around my age. There’s also a general lack of respectability among my current acquaintances. But then I am borrowing them from Shepard.
Out of everyone I think Grunt would be the only one available and somewhat suitable.
That’s certainly not helping me dispel those rumors.
just some advice if Grunt leaves something he's just killed at your doorstep or on your bed it's just a sign of affection trust me i know things
Nope. Can’t even pretend to be surprised about that.
iihen started following you
I’d haf’ta question anyone who’s capable a’ pullin’ that off. What’s the point a’ livin’ if at least one schmook doesn’t hate ya’?
……Anyways, uh. Yeah. Dippin’ off the subject a’ Shepard ‘cause ya’ got a point a’ everyone talkin’ about ‘er… Uh… Shit I suck at small talk. Whaddya wanna be when ya’ grow up?
Well, as far as I’m aware. All her foes are dead now so there might be something to that.
I am going to be a xenoanthropologist. Do you know what that is?
“Hmng.” He looked her over, not for the first time, his gaze sharp and deliberate now, lingering instead of flippant, considering the information. Grunt’s expertise relied predominately on brute strength, powerful weapons and a whole lot of ways to kill someone, anyone. He supposed it was a severe oversight to assume that such attributes would somehow apply to her as well. Whatever. Not like he was going to admit it.
It made sense, though. She was small. Slender. Built light. Her clothes were often bright and flashy, but he figured it was a testament to her skill that she managed to elude her enemies in spite of that. He folded his arms underneath his chest. “You sound like an infiltrator,” He decided, tapped a talon against his bicep almost thoughtfully, though whatever he was thinking elicited an unconscious scowl. “Hm.”
Chavali eyed him with some worry. He seemed to be thinking quite deeply over…something. Exactly what that would be? She only had the slightest of clues and that was a bit worrisome. His interest in her well being was well and all but Chavali really didn’t have much interest in it of her own.
It might be better to get it over with though.
"What exactly is an infiltrator?" Chavali asked and added partly in jest, partly as a challenge. "Or is that one of those soldier things you aren’t to speak of?" He had always been quite reclusive about what it is he actually did on the field. Special secret soldier stuff or something. She found it silly but she also knew a lot of that was probably for good reason and she hadn’t actually ever cared that deeply to find out why.
It’s about a year, no?
iihen started following you
I don’t know her super-buddy-chum-chum like er’ryone else seems to. But I know’ve ‘er exploits, and we may have talked a couple of times… I think. I’m also shit with faces, did I mention that?
Even still, the lady was motivational, even without much direct talkin’. It’s weird how charisma works.
Tch. I get contrasting accounts on Shepard’s character but her ability to schmooze people over seems to one consistent factor.
Bah, but my mother is all I ever talk about. It is good to know she is not close personal friends with absolutely everybody. I’m not much for hand-me-downs.
Grunt’s brow-ridges drew over his eyes, furrowed. It occurred to him then, and perhaps very belatedly (whether deliberate or not was not something he cared to consider, so he didn’t) that she had spoken very little about herself since they had met. He only knew that she was Shepard’s child, but perhaps not quite Shepard’s clan, not then, anyway. And she had been on Earth, before and after the initial invasion. Oddly enough it was always Grunt who would talk about himself—or rather, his people, Tuchanka, its history. The idea of sharing more personal matters were something he was much too stubborn to entertain.
He lifted his eyes, stared down at her from his towering height, appraising. “You can fight.” It wasn’t a question, not really. He could bother to believe her, all things considered. “Hnmph. Fine then. Show me.”
Chavali vaguely remembered sizing up Grunt once before, although she couldn’t remember why. As tempting as the thought had been, Chavali wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea of showing Grunt any martial prowess. After all, she was only a highschooler. A remarkably talented highschooler, but still no match against a trained soldier. The last physical fight she had been in had been…well years ago. There wasn’t any way that Chavali could take Grunt.
"I didn’t say that now did I?” Chavali tossed him a teasing smirk. “Most of my skirmishes were ended by running and creative evasion. I took and excelled at track when I was still in school, not many kids my age can outrun me. Husks are another matter…but that’s where skilled maneuvering of obstacles comes in handy.”
Miss Chavali Baker.