The skewers, made from something called fishdog, and hence
completely unappetizing towards Kova, sit bare and cleaned on the
plate next to the seat cushion, the only sounds in the room the
incessant taptaptap of fingers on the holographic keyboard.
Her back is to him, and she has, apparently, not noticed him. At
all.
“Excuse-”
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Almost updated.”
Hunched over the computer, she scans over something, and after a
long moment turns as the screen blinks off. Two fingered hands and
two toed, sock clad feet brace on the floor and the other occupant of
the room rises, red strands falling around the shoulders as she
stands, wobbles, and falls to the floor with a groan.
“Ow. Sitting too long.”
“Sitting for hours.”
A muttered swear, one which he doesn't recognize and may have fallen
out of use by his time. Shaking his head, he enters, snaps his
fingers, and the overhead lights flash on to her pained moan.
She is now rubbing her ankles. Trying, she protests, to get blood
flowing to her feet again. The short, gangly girl flexes her legs,
shakes her feet, and looks up at Kova with a barest hint of
annoyance. One couldn't blame him, in all honesty, for the way he's
staring at her.
He hasn't seen a female Prothean in a long time.
She's short, gangly. Her gray skin has traces of blue and silver in
its coloring. Her head is narrower than his, her angular dome
softened by the red hair falling in cords over the top of her head,
tapering off to soft strands down the back and sides. Yellow, green
flecked eyes, two on each side of her short, flattened nose glare at
him, but he shrugs.
Her clothes, the ones they found her in, are still being washed,
studied, and if their Hanar hosts are to be believed, historically
documented. They still need to investigate why she's here,
why she was found here, and why the single, solitary stasis pod had
her in it and not someone important.
For right now, they consist of a white shirt, dark blue zipped
jumper and dark blue pants and white socks. She has yet to put on
shoes. They may need to find them, at some point.
“Are you done?” Kova asks, “Because if you are, we can start
investigating.”
“I've only gotten through pre-Asari history, honestly,” she
responds, hands on her back, stretching her back, Kova's gaze
glancing at her chest before back to her face, “Uh...still have to
study up on turians, salarians, earthans-”
“Humans.”
More muttering, as she braces against the floor and stands, shakily
bouncing before rolling her neck.
“So, then what?” she asks, “I really really wanted to
get back to studying. I know I honesty don't have any
projects due anymore because it's been fifty thousand years but I
really wanted to find out about everything around here. Do we
really have to go now?”
Kova stares at her. He blinks.
“You are...not concerned. That it's been fifty thousand years,
and everything you know is dead?”
The girl...shrugs.
“My family died years ago,” she says, “I was up to my eyes in
student debt, apprenticed to a miserable old learnmaker who stared at
my ass, and trying to get a job so I wouldn't have to sell redundant
organs to make rent. What am I missing?”
She taps the bracelet on her left wrist. An old green hologram, a
single globe surrounding her fist, appears. The computer clicks off,
and she taps it closed.
“Meanwhile, I don't even know what killed off the 'Empire,'” she
says, twitching both fingers, “Or why I got stuck in the single
stasis pod at the study site, or why no one bothered to defrost me
thousands of years ago. So the same 'Empire',” air quotes,
twitching fingers, “That jacked up my debt, let my parents die, and
left me to rot on Kahje's gone? Sweet.”
Kova sighs. He shakes his head, glaring at the girl as she picks up
the plate and walks past him. He was exuberant. He was overjoyed.
Then he began talking to the solitary inhabitant of these ruins, that
the Hanar had not found without his help. And of all the ones to
find, he did not find a scientist, or leader, or great wise mind of
the past.
Instead, he found a child.
completely unappetizing towards Kova, sit bare and cleaned on the
plate next to the seat cushion, the only sounds in the room the
incessant taptaptap of fingers on the holographic keyboard.
Her back is to him, and she has, apparently, not noticed him. At
all.
“Excuse-”
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Almost updated.”
Hunched over the computer, she scans over something, and after a
long moment turns as the screen blinks off. Two fingered hands and
two toed, sock clad feet brace on the floor and the other occupant of
the room rises, red strands falling around the shoulders as she
stands, wobbles, and falls to the floor with a groan.
“Ow. Sitting too long.”
“Sitting for hours.”
A muttered swear, one which he doesn't recognize and may have fallen
out of use by his time. Shaking his head, he enters, snaps his
fingers, and the overhead lights flash on to her pained moan.
She is now rubbing her ankles. Trying, she protests, to get blood
flowing to her feet again. The short, gangly girl flexes her legs,
shakes her feet, and looks up at Kova with a barest hint of
annoyance. One couldn't blame him, in all honesty, for the way he's
staring at her.
He hasn't seen a female Prothean in a long time.
She's short, gangly. Her gray skin has traces of blue and silver in
its coloring. Her head is narrower than his, her angular dome
softened by the red hair falling in cords over the top of her head,
tapering off to soft strands down the back and sides. Yellow, green
flecked eyes, two on each side of her short, flattened nose glare at
him, but he shrugs.
Her clothes, the ones they found her in, are still being washed,
studied, and if their Hanar hosts are to be believed, historically
documented. They still need to investigate why she's here,
why she was found here, and why the single, solitary stasis pod had
her in it and not someone important.
For right now, they consist of a white shirt, dark blue zipped
jumper and dark blue pants and white socks. She has yet to put on
shoes. They may need to find them, at some point.
“Are you done?” Kova asks, “Because if you are, we can start
investigating.”
“I've only gotten through pre-Asari history, honestly,” she
responds, hands on her back, stretching her back, Kova's gaze
glancing at her chest before back to her face, “Uh...still have to
study up on turians, salarians, earthans-”
“Humans.”
More muttering, as she braces against the floor and stands, shakily
bouncing before rolling her neck.
“So, then what?” she asks, “I really really wanted to
get back to studying. I know I honesty don't have any
projects due anymore because it's been fifty thousand years but I
really wanted to find out about everything around here. Do we
really have to go now?”
Kova stares at her. He blinks.
“You are...not concerned. That it's been fifty thousand years,
and everything you know is dead?”
The girl...shrugs.
“My family died years ago,” she says, “I was up to my eyes in
student debt, apprenticed to a miserable old learnmaker who stared at
my ass, and trying to get a job so I wouldn't have to sell redundant
organs to make rent. What am I missing?”
She taps the bracelet on her left wrist. An old green hologram, a
single globe surrounding her fist, appears. The computer clicks off,
and she taps it closed.
“Meanwhile, I don't even know what killed off the 'Empire,'” she
says, twitching both fingers, “Or why I got stuck in the single
stasis pod at the study site, or why no one bothered to defrost me
thousands of years ago. So the same 'Empire',” air quotes,
twitching fingers, “That jacked up my debt, let my parents die, and
left me to rot on Kahje's gone? Sweet.”
Kova sighs. He shakes his head, glaring at the girl as she picks up
the plate and walks past him. He was exuberant. He was overjoyed.
Then he began talking to the solitary inhabitant of these ruins, that
the Hanar had not found without his help. And of all the ones to
find, he did not find a scientist, or leader, or great wise mind of
the past.
Instead, he found a child.