Cold Snap on the Normandy

[psychadrellic]

Who: The crew of the Normandy
Where: Aboard the Normandy SR-NO
When: Backdated to during the cold snap
What: Crew bonding, IDK.
Warnings: PG-13 for potty mouths and horrible innuendo
Style: Probably brackets
Status: Closed & Ongoing; backtags ahoy!
[Start a thread for your character, tag other character's threads, make everything as horrible and as awkward as possible]

Comments

[sheparrrrrd]

[YOU don't understand? NOBODY understands this. THIS is not possible. Something has fucked with physics.

Shepard is just so damn confused, and of course he's angry as well.

His confusion and anger are clear on the visible part of his face, and they're also clear in his actions as he draws his pistol and angles it to destroy the icicle, obviously considering just shooting this thing off because guns ain't ever failed him before, right?

Calmer, more rational thinking seems to finally win out as he slowly lowers the sidearm and turns to Thane to shrug. The visual is probably something even someone without an eidetic memory would never be able to forget.]

[psychadrellic]

Please don't attempt to use your gun like that again.

[YOU'LL ALARM THE DRELL.

...Not that he's not alarmed already. And also possibly cursing his perfect, flawless memory just a little bit. What is even happening here.

Well, clearly someone's got to do something, and since Shepard's obviously out of ideas, it's up to Thane. So he does what he hopes is the sensible thing and, covering his hand with a corner of his blanket, reaches up to that perfect chin icicle and gently tugging to see if maybe the theoretical heat of his hand might loosen it or maybe even snap it off.

Also hopefully without removing part of Shepard's chin. Hm. :|a]

[sheparrrrrd]

[He just gives a "really?" look at the comment. Hey, he knows his way around guns!

But the look fades as Thane reaches to snap off the icicle. Really, you're always there to save the day, Thane! Even the gentle tugging, however, does have Shepard grunting and ducking his head a little since it's tugging on skin and grizzled, manly five o'clock shadow.]

Thop--

[You might get your hand stuck and then what sort of situation would this turn into?]

[psychadrellic]

[It's your own fault for having such a weird, hairy chin, Shepard. Honestly, human males. :|

Though he stops tugging and removes his hand when Shepard says to. He doesn't want to hurt him, after all.]

...Perhaps the sand...?

[He almost hesitates to suggest that, because look how much good his suggestions have done so far! But still, they've got to figure something out...

...Maybe if the sand doesn't work he can biotic that shit off of Shepard's face. HM.]

[sheparrrrrd]

[He has no clue if that's going to help, but short of setting fire to his tongue, he'll probably try anything.

So he just bends over. Gravity makes the icicle and the mug hang lower and make him look even more retarded, but he grabs a handful of sand and stands back up.

Then he holds his hand out to Thane. Look like he wants you to do the honors since it might be easier for you.]

[psychadrellic]

[He automatically holds out his hand to accept the sand, but once he's got it in his palm, he pauses.

You know what? No. Shepard, no. What if he gets this shit on your tongue? He's already made things worse by suggesting warm water, which has created that beautiful, flawless chincicle, he's not going to try smacking sand on top of that. Especially since the sand in question feels cold to the touch, despite its recent proximity to the stove.

Fuck sand, it's time to use biotics.]

...On second thought, I'd rather try something else.

[Brushing that sand back into the sandbox now in favor of GLOWY BLUE SPACE MAGIC. Which he has much better control over than a handful of sand. Give him your face, Shepard, this probably won't hurt He's going to try to melt off the chinsicle first, to see how that goes, before tackling the much squishier, more delicate problem of Shepard's frozen tongue.

Spirits above, he wishes Mordin were here right now.]