#shipverse || blair shepard / bloodiedbiotic ( nihlus )

[anderwhohn]

@bloodiedbiotic asked: ❰❰ PIN ❱❱ sender pins receiver during a fight/training + reverse for Nihlus or Garrus 👀

The Normandy's cargo bay was dimly lit, its metallic walls reflecting the soft glow of the ship's interior lights, the cargo bay filled with the sounds of grunts, the clang of metal on metal, and the crackling discharge of biotic energy as the Commander and Spectre sparred.

The air is thick with anticipation to see who would come out on top, between Shepard's ruthless determination and Kryik's sense of quiet confidence. With each strike and successful dodge, Nihlus's mandibles flex in approval as they dance around one another.

As their duel rages on, Nihlus feints to the left, spinning around and lunging at Shepard's side, only barely managing to adjust as Shepard dodges him, catching her off balance. In an instant, he sweeps her feet out from under her, following her to the floor with one hand braced at the base of her skull to keep her head from hitting the metal plating, while the other holds himself above her so as not to crush her with his full weight.

"Gotcha," Nihlus rumbles, a playful note in his voice as his mandibles flare wide in a cheeky grin.

[anderwhohn]

A sympathetic hum rumbles through his primary vocals as he's applying the medigel, though there's a hint of amusement in his voice as he notes, "Seems turians aren't the only ones who don't handle the cold well. Though you'll probably be glad of it when it helps ease some of the ache."

He's meticulously careful with each touch, only the softer hide of his fingers ever coming into contact with her even softer skin, keeping his talons angled so they don't accidentally scratch her and further aggravate her wounds. Once the medigel is fully applied, he sighs softly, pulling back to wipe his hands off on a clean towel before picking up the roll of bandages.

"Alright. I know you humans tend to be a bit... hm, odd about your takes on nudity, but you're going to have to lose the towel so I can get these bandages on you," he says lightly, hoping a little levity will help ease some of the growing tension. "Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before. Not yours, of course, but... you'll see much worse than a half-naked wounded soldier in our line of work."

@anderwhohn sent: [wound] - Sender has to patch up receiver's wound. /from Nihlus

seggsual tension prompts — accepting

"It's a miracle that it's not as serious as it could have been," was all she remembered Nihlus telling her, his voice a low rumble from behind. A krogan shotgun blast to the back, one that was too close for her natural biotic barriers to try and absorb—pierced straight through her armor and shredded the clothing and skin underneath. Adrenaline and rage were her anesthetic for the remainder of the fight, but once Shepard was back aboard the Normandy, the numbness was quick to ebb away, replaced by the familiar sting of an open wound.

Blair had retreated to her quarters rather than directing herself to the med-bay where she knew Chakwas was anticipating and preparing to treat her. It wasn't that serious, she'd just need to slap some medi-gel on it and take a shower to rinse off the blood. At least, that was the plan—just as her breastplate fell to the floor with a resounding thud, the door to her quarters opened for the second time, revealing Nihlus with an armful of medical supplies.

From that point, the pain of her wound had become overwhelming, muddling Shepard's memory to where she couldn't quite recall how Nihlus managed to, quite literally, talk her shirt off. Awareness had finally set back in only to find herself sitting backwards in her desk chair, one hand holding a towel to her bare chest while the other was balled into a fist. She could sense Nihlus' presence behind her, tending to the wound across her back as tenderly as one with talons could. The medi-gel he applies is cold against her skin, causing her to tense up as a shiver runs up her spine and goosebumps mark her skin. Instinctively, Blair switches to using her forearm to keep the towel firm against her breasts, heat flooding to her face as she realizes just what position she was in.

She really should have just gone to Chakwas.

[anderwhohn]

A wry tilt to his mandibles as they flare out from his jaw hint at his amusement as she speaks about her ignoring the captain's orders. His extensive research into her had revealed such tendencies in the past - particularly in 'against all odds' situations - and that was part of the very reason he wanted her in the Spectres.

The fact that she's bound to annoy Sparatus to no end with her insubordination is just a bonus in his view.

"If my hardsuit's recordings had survived his attack, it might have been a different story. Sparatus in particular will want irrefutable evidence of Saren's betrayal, but even the audio isn't salvageable," he sighs as he settles down into one of the chairs, shifting awkwardly at first before stretching his legs out to accommodate for his height - while the Normandy might be of turian-human design, apparently not all aspects were quite fitted for a turian to actually be onboard the ship itself.

Forest green eyes narrow slightly in thought at the revelation of his currently believed status in the galaxy, mandibles fluttering once more before settling tightly against his jaw. While he can understand their reasoning for the deception, he can't help but wonder if it will do more harm than help them in the end.

"I will still need to speak to the Council," he notes, a deep growl underlining his words as he looks at her pointedly. "Laiel - Sparatus - will be obligated to report my death to the Hierarchy. And protocol is that a Spectre's status be terminated upon confirmation of their death. So while they're unlikely to take the report as confirmation enough..."

Sighing wearily, he pauses to take a sip of the drink offered to him, humming his thanks before continuing. "Let's just hope bureaucracy is as slow as it typically is and that I don't have to fight to get my own Spectre status reinstated when we arrive at the Citadel. Regardless, once the truth of the deception comes out, not everyone will look on the Alliance favourably for this course of action. While understandable, given Saren's involvement - he may very well look to finish the job once he learns I survived - it does complicate matters in ways I doubt your Captain considered."

@bloodiedbiotic asked: ❝ you don’t know how glad i am to see you made it. here, let me get you a drink. ❞ for nihlus bc that line feels perfect for post-eden prime ♥

Forest green eyes blink slowly, still clearly a bit dazed from the medication Chakwas has him on to reduce the pain, even if she has finally released him from the medbay under strict orders of his being on restricted light duty or else she'll have him dragged right back to the medbay and restrained if necessary. He's always known turian doctors to be rather ruthless in dealing with unruly patients, but even he has to admit he's not willing to risk this unassuming human doctor's wrath.

It's Shepard's words that has his mandibles fluttering with an emotion even he'd have trouble describing, nodding slowly at the offer as he follows her toward the galley. "Appreciated. Though I probably wouldn't have made it if you hadn't called the evac in time..."

It's an uncomfortable truth, even if Saren's shot hadn't been as fatal as the older turian had intended. And given the overall situation, he dreads to see how the Council is going to react to all of this - particularly Sparatus, given his cousin's tendency to dig his talons in and not accept that the galaxy is changing around him in ways he can't control.

"The Council isn't going to want to believe any of this. Saren is one of their best - they're not going to want to hear humanity's accusations against him. I'm not certain even my own testimony will carry much weight, particularly with Sparatus."

[anderwhohn]

Shaking his head in silent thought, he's quiet at first as he starts bandaging her wounds, settling the pads in place before beginning to secure them in place with the bandages wrapped around her torso.

It's only when he has to lean in to reach around her in order to pass the bandages from one hand to another around her that he speaks, offering, "I've been in this very position myself before, you know, but with Saren doing the patching up. At least I'm not adding insult to injury, as you humans like to say. Saren would chose these moments to handle our debriefs."

"Plus," he notes with a lighter tone, clearly teasing as he notes, "His bedside manner was horrible. At least I'm not jabbing you in your wounds with my talons to make a point of how you should have avoided getting shot."

Securing the bandages in place, he takes a moment to examine his work before resting a hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze in reassurance, allowing his touch to linger. "You did good today, Shepard. Take at least the rest of the shift and tonight on light duty to recover. I'll take care of the crew. We're in transit for the next cycle or two anyway, so it won't be any trouble."

A sympathetic hum rumbles through his primary vocals as he's applying the medigel, though there's a hint of amusement in his voice as he notes, "Seems turians aren't the only ones who don't handle the cold well. Though you'll probably be glad of it when it helps ease some of the ache."

He's meticulously careful with each touch, only the softer hide of his fingers ever coming into contact with her even softer skin, keeping his talons angled so they don't accidentally scratch her and further aggravate her wounds. Once the medigel is fully applied, he sighs softly, pulling back to wipe his hands off on a clean towel before picking up the roll of bandages.

"Alright. I know you humans tend to be a bit... hm, odd about your takes on nudity, but you're going to have to lose the towel so I can get these bandages on you," he says lightly, hoping a little levity will help ease some of the growing tension. "Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before. Not yours, of course, but... you'll see much worse than a half-naked wounded soldier in our line of work."