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[2leftfeet]

[It doesn't take Shepard long to take to the network. Closed ship communication isn't exactly a new concept to her and while there's a whole lot of questions that spring to her mind, she's eager to get one thing sorted out first.]

To whoever thought it was a good idea to break into my locker and take all my things: it wasn't.

[The woman on the video feed, wearing an ill-fitting borrowed sweater, may have a cheerful edge to her voice but it's clearly a front - belied by her furrowed brow and how her mouth falls into a sharp, severe line between words. As soon as Shepard had realized that everyone else seemed to have things left to them in their lockers while hers had been suspiciously empty of pretty much anything beyond her comm device, she'd jumped to the only logical conclusion: someone had stolen her shit.]

I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume it was an accident. If you have my armor or tags or anything with the name Shepard on it-- [She doesn't even know what else could've been there, but there had to have been something.] --just put it back where you found it by 1300 hours and we'll call it even.

[See? Perfectly reasonable of her. None of this makes any sense to her, but let no one say that Commander Shepard of the Normandy can't roll with the punches and put on a nice face despite it all.]

If I find you with it after that, I'll throw you out the nearest airlock.

[Or not. After a moment she continues, only slightly awkwardly. Man can't survive on threats and false accusations alone after all.] As a side note: if anyone has a spare change of clothes they'd be willing to part with, let me know.

Comments

enjoy your call from the next room:

[chickenselects]

You asked about shoes, right? [Because these boots are as confusing as the rest of what he has to wear.] I wasn't paying attention, I'm trying to learn how to pick up this ball with five...fingers.

she's just going to ask about strapping him to a skateboard

[2leftfeet]

[No, but she'll make a point of doing it. Though seriously Garrus - learning to your shoe laces is an important life skill. You definitely need to get that down.]

A ball? Where'd you find a ball?

Shepard please, that helps no one. He's just going to crash.

[chickenselects]

[Uh.] The floor?

slow facepalm like 2001: a space odyssey slow

[2leftfeet]

[Okay. Sure. 'The floor.']

This place is dangerous. Maybe you shouldn't just pick up things you find laying around. [Attack of the killer rubber ball. She's assuming it's rubber. Anyway, right:] Is the shoe thing more a laces thing?

[chickenselects]

This a new rule, commander? Because all I'm saying is that I watched you pick up plenty on that Collector ship.

[And the derelict Reaper, and Virmire and...] I'll put it back outside as soon as I can figure out how.

And yeah, but the damn things are impossible to walk in anyway.

[2leftfeet]

[Do as she says, not as she does Garrus.

And in this case she's going to skip right over that question and go straight to the rest.] Have you tried walking around barefoot?

[chickenselects]

I made some progress with it an hour ago. I mean, it was falling into a wall instead of the floor, but it was something.

[Never mind the fact that he quit shortly after the discovery was made. She doesn't need to know about that.] Goes better when I keep my weight on the front of my feet, though. Feels more natural. Less human.

[2leftfeet]

[Oh.] So you've been walking around on your toes. [It's not really a question at all. She's trying really hard not to be cruel to him and the effort irons out any inflection in her voice.] Maybe we can find you some heels.

[Welp. It was nice while it lasted.]

[chickenselects]

[He sits there for a moment, mulling it over in an attempt to follow what exactly she's trying to...]

That was a joke, wasn't it.

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[suddenlycaptain]

Shepard, huh?

[ Headtilt. ]

You don't look like the last two. But welcome back anyway.

[2leftfeet]

Yes. Yes it was. [But seriously they could probably find him a pair. She's no specialist on alien anatomy, but she can see the logic behind it. Turian's have weird legs, right?]

Bring your boots over. If you can make it here, I'll give you some lessons on tying them. [She's a marine; she knows a thing or two about knots, thanks.]

video;

[2leftfeet]

[The reply isn't instantaneous, but it does come. There's something cool and clipped about how she asks:]

What do you mean by 'the last two'?

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[suddenlycaptain]

A Commander Shepherd of the Normandy has been here at least twice before now.

It happens, unfortunately. This ship takes people out of different times as well as universes, and it's entirely possible that the other two were alternate universe versions of... you.

[ Pause. ]

I have some clothes looted off the last space station that tried to kill us, too.

[chickenselects]

[While he's not fond of the idea of another round of practice so soon after spending quite literally all day attempting to pace the halls, knot work seems like a decent prospect, and there's only a second or two of a delay before he snaps off the feed, scoots around in his seat, and does his best to lope (quite pitifully) over with the ship-issued boots wrapped up in his arms.]

I have to ask: does this lesson come with a diagram or are you planning on me somehow keeping up.

Because at this rate that isn't going to happen.

[2leftfeet]

[What follows is a long beat, Shepard's mouth pressed into a thin line. The thought makes the small hairs at the back of her neck stand on end. Pulling people before different universes, different realities, is one thing. That some version of her had been here before--]

What happened to her?

[Them. Whatever. She'll get back to the clothes part in a second.]

[2leftfeet]

[Well, he's not having to hold onto anything as he goes. That's an improvement, right?]

I'll try to keep it simple. [Turning her chair out from the desk, Shepard motions for him to sit on the bed. The room is about as sterile and spartan as is possible (though she has stolen the pillow from the spare bed for her own).] I hear that practice makes perfect.

[chickenselects]

[And he does, without arguing (despite walking like a travesty he still sits like a normal human being, so long as you don't pay attention to the half splayed spacing of his fingers against the edge) boots dropped-- literally-- in a heap on the ground.

They're then toed upright into place.]

Or I could just...not use the extra fingers that I've picked up. It's going better with three and three even if I can't seem to get the end ones to sit still.

[2leftfeet]

Garrus please, we're in a scarcity society here. Don't go wasting four whole fingers; someone out there probably doesn't have the luxury of extras. [Think of the children, etc. She skates the rolling chair across the floor and parks herself in front of him.]

Show me what you've got so far.

[chickenselects]

Someone out there is probably lucky. [It's sarcasm, sure, but he half means it, tugging one of the boots up into his lap and eyeing the laces the way a rutting krogan might stare down a thresher maw: one part determination, two parts I want off.

So he picks and pulls and between slipping fingertips and one hell of a lot of guesswork, Garrus manages the kind of knot that resembles a nice heap of tangled tree lights.]

It went better the last time. [No it didn't.]

[2leftfeet]

[She watches with the kind of single minded determination usually reserved for taking out a stick of mercenaries, only in this case she's just trying really hard not to make low noises of amusement whenever he beefs it. She mostly manages it, brow furrowing and a frown forming from the effort.

When he's done, she leans forward to take the boot from him.]

You knew how to tie a knot before this, right?

[chickenselects]

Sure. [Technically. There's not much in the way of practice when your armor's all latched on and snapped into place.] The one with the loop that...you know.

[He cants his head, makes a half-pretzel sort of shape with his hands. Definitely not a knot.]

[2leftfeet]

[He gets a sort of mournful twist of her mouth in response, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she swallows whatever first comes to her mind. Instead he gets just a clipped:] No. [--And then she sets to untangling the mess he made of the laces.]

Look, knot the laces once to start with. Then make a loop and pinch here-- [She makes an exaggerated pinching motion with her thumb and forefinger.] You can handle those two fingers, right?

[chickenselects]

Got it. [And to prove that point, he follows her example, middle finger trailing too closely to his index.] Wait, hold on. [A definite pause, a little mental recalibration, and the next attempt is just fine aside from the way his ring and pinky fingers stay flexed and rigid in space.]

See? No problem.

[leaps]

I've got some spares.

[ because saying you're back is always awkward. ]

voice;

[makedo]

Armor or tags? [ and then the name... brad's going to venture a wild guess here, based on the last shepard on this ship ] Marine?