#Litae'sGrace – June 15, 2019

Elena slides into the booth opposite Zaylus, setting down her beer and the shots. The turian's question causes her to deflate a little, glancing out across the bar. "Yeah, well... after what happened? It's-.... it's gonna be a while. Lotta repairs to be made, and the captain ain't ready to get back to work... not by a longshot." she says, a distant frown settling into her face as her mind is drawn back to the Jack of Diamonds,

and everything she's here to avoid. Lucy drinking herself to sleep. Niklos' utter, detatched silence, walking the ship like a ghost. Like he's the one that died. Makk hiding away in the engine room to not let on how banged up he got during the rescue. Pretending he's not an old man. The way the Jack doesn't feel safe anymore. Doesn't feel like home. Invaded. Swarmed. Elena draws in a sharp breath, forcing herself back to

the here and now by downing another shot, letting it burn away her thoughts, letting the growing haze keep her where she wants to be. "We'll-... we'll get back to it. Espero que sea pronto..." she says, her voice turning to a mumble as her attention shifts to her beer, eyebrows furrowing as she watches the amber liquid.

Zaylus lowers his gaze to the table as she goes on, feeling the misstep and his own incorrect perception dragging the conversation down again. One talon breaks through a particularly thin edge of the sleeve, finally giving in to his constant prodding and fidgeting. It was easy to remember what he suffered, what his team suffered. But the deaths belonged to the Jack, and her crew were

in as much pain and fear in the aftermath as Redrock was, if not even more. Whatever the circumstances, the blame and manipulation, how could their suffering be any less than his, now as Elena drinks away the pain with him? "You will." He agrees, tugging absently at the fresh hole in his sling. "Yours is a good crew. When shit went down and we all marched together, I saw it.

How the big guy was knocking down bugs left and right. And your doc, she patched up my friend real good. She didn't need to do that, care that much about a stranger." A subtle appreciation for their motley crew laces his words. I mean hey, it wasn't his kid they took. "You'll come back from this." He offers matter-of-factly, pausing to add before taking a hearty swig, "I think

we all will. Somehow."

Elena lets out a quiet snort, but nods before taking a long swig of her beer. "Yeah... not much choice, right?" she says with a hollow snicker, trying and failing to find her celebratory spirit again. The grin that she's forced onto her lips quickly starts to feel stale, and she lets it drop, eyes narrowing a little as she studies Zaylus. "Okay, what's the deal with... that...?" she asks, gesturing at him after her gaze falls

on his hoodie, the out-of-the-blue question a clear mark that she's not interested in wallowing in the misery.

Zaylus settles back into the booth. Not an enthusastic response, but he wasn't trying to convince her. He was just starting to believe it. When the other shoe finally drops, he grabs the stretched collar with his free hand, exaggeratingly rolling his eyes. "They didn't tell me what the holiday was, 'Halloween'." He half sneers, taking the opportunity to finally justify his purchases

and fashion sense. "So I looked it up. You're supposed to dress up as something you're not, right? So I think great, I can just get human clothes and pretend to be one! That's a holiday!" He explains, holding out the hand to encourage her to agree. "So, long story short, there was a slight misunderstanding on my part. However... this is extremely comfortable." He says in a more

dignified tone, straightening the loose garment on his lanky frame.

Elena leans back a little in her seat, raising an eyebrow at Zaylus' explanation. There's a hint of a musement in her face, the ridiculous explanation a welcome distraction. "I guess...?" she agrees tenatively. The words that follow prompt a slight snort of laughter. "Thought most turians were more comfortable wrapped up in armor plating..." she says. Certainly true for the ones she's met. Even when not wearing armor most of

their clothing could pass for it. Hard, fitted plates, as if emulating the carapace.

Zaylus smirks, looking down as he nods slightly. "Yes, largely I would agree with that. This is a huge step down in protection, but it has its own features." He explains, reaching his arm behind his neck and tugging the ragged hood into position. "Turian clothes- they're boring. But check this shit." He snickers, turning his head so she can see the hint of his fringe poking through

the hood. "And! The pockets are heavily improved." He balls his fist inside the front pouch and holds it up for her to see past the table. "I can put so much shit in there! You humans don't know how good you have it." He insists, the glint in his eye betraying how much he's playing it up for the sake of amusement.

Elena just watches Zaylus' antics with a skeptical expression, shaking her head a little as he shows off the pockets, although there's a faint hint of a smirk on her lips as she raises the beer to her lips again, taking another sip. "Always wondered..." she starts as she lowers the mug, studying him curiously. "Clothes get stuck a lot? With all the... spurs and shit. I mean, fuck, my shirts snag on this all the time." she says,

lifting her cybernetic arm and glancing at it as she rotates it. "Must be a pain in the ass to get dressed."

Zaylus tilts his head curiously, taking the opportunity to study the cybernetic closer without seeming rude. "I mean... not really." He answers with a slight shrug. "They're made to fit all the," he pauses, "spurs and shit." He finishes, smirking a little at her phrasing. "Unlike this thing." His gaze eventually rests on her arm again, scrutinizing without discomfort. "That's a hell

of a mod. I feel like I'm seeing more and more of them these days." He muses, leaving the implicit question in the deck, lest that turn out to be a particularly sore subject. "Now what I always wondered... do those work just like the other arm? Feel natural?"

Elena raises her eyebrows, looking over her hand again and wiggling her almost-skeletal hand a little, causing a metallic clattering. "This thing?" she asks with a small smirk, clearly not uncomfortable with discussing the cybernetic. "Nah." she says with a shake of her head, letting her the hand rejoin her left around the beer. "There's options for that kinda shit. Advanced sensory simulation, synthetic skin, the works... not

really in my price range though." she admits, her smirk widening a little. "I've got basic pressure-sense, that's it. Sturdy though. Basic hardware's good for my line of work."

Zaylus nods thoughtfully, being given a free pass to stare. "I figured about as much. More life-like for the top credits. But why would you even want that?" He asks skeptically, opening his free hand on the tabletop. "If you're gonna get a new arm why would you want one that can hurt? Call it cheap, but I'd call it smart." He insists.

Elena snorts, shaking her head. "Mira, any model advanced enough to have full sensation? It's gonna have customizable software for blocking pain, temp, whatever you don't want." Seems she's done her reading even if she ended up with a basic model. "Downside's more... missing out on the good stuff, yeah?" she says, tapping mechanical fingertips against the side of her mug and flashing a grin before lifting the beer to her lips

again.

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Zaylus Velrin
Elena Herrera

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