no subject

[scaleshavefallen]

I thought that being here would be a respite from what I had endured at home.

I was wrong. All of the time alone meant that I had too much time to be in my head. To be in Garret Jacob Hobbs' head. To be in Hannibal Lecter's head.

I lost myself once; I wasn't about to do it again.

So I learned quickly that I needed something to do, something that didn't involve answering endless questions and ceaselessly contemplating not only my existence but the very meaning of it, and/or whether or not this is all one extended fever dream.

There aren't many jobs here that I'm suited for. I don't need a psych eval to tell me that I would make an atrocious waiter or front desk attendant. And it was too much to hope that this place be by the sea, or even a large lake, where there would be motors to fix and society to ignore.

There are stables, though, and while I'm not an expert in horses, they're far more easier for me to deal with than people. I know how to deal with skittish, scared animals: some would say that I am one.

It gives a sense of purpose to my day, at least, no matter how steep the learning curve for me. I can't just hide away in my room, no matter how much I would prefer that. It wouldn't get me any closer to the truth -- about the Nexus, about why I'm here, about what happened to me at home.

So, for now, horses it is.


[ feel free to find will coming/going to the stables, or at the stables themselves, which are on the east end of the nexus grounds. ]

no subject

[miss_vas_normandy]

The first thing that Tali became aware of, even before the drastic visual shift in her surroundings registered, or the sharp shift in her suit's filters to compensate for the dramatic change in atmosphere, was that her hands and feet were suddenly very, very uncomfortable. It took only a few seconds for her to confirm that there was nothing wrong with the suit, nor did she appear to be wounded, but her fingers felt stiff and awkward as if her gloves were constricting around them.

She only had a few seconds to worry about her hands, however, because this room was not the engineering bay of the Normandy SR-2. It looked much more like a room on board the Citadel, but nicer by far than any of the places that Tali had ever been allowed, and even then, not the same. The air filters on her suit adjusted to her sudden, desperate need to draw in breath after breath as she forced her stiff and awkward fingers to key in some commands on her omni-tool. "Tali'Zorah to the Normandy. Normandy please respond. Joker? Joker, this is not amusing, what have you done? Agh, you little...bosh'tet! EDI!" With a frustrated snarl, Tali sealed off the area around her wrists so that she could remove her glove--given the choice between spiking a fever and her fingers ripping off of her hand, she would take the fever--but when she pulled the material away from her fingers, she could only stare. Five slender digits flexed and curled when Tali commanded them to, a thumb and four fingers instead of two.

"Oh, keelah," Tali murmured, using her shaking alien hand to remove the other glove to see if the set was matched. It was. Unfortunately that knowledge did not make her feel any better. "Oh, please let this be a fever. A terrible, hallucination inducing fever."