[If she were less incoherently irritated and more coordinated she'd have set about wiping that smile off his face. As it was, she'd just decided that venturing for more water was a solid plan and that required most of her focus.]


It might surprise you to hear this, but I've been hungover before, Thane. Many times, in fact.


[To prove her point, or simply punctuate her statement, Shepard swung her legs over the edge of the bed and went about pulling her pants on. She had solid motor control, but the way her vision was jerking around reminded her of the good'ol'days in the Mako. It was less fun without the mounted turret and rocket thrusters.

She pulled the civvies over her hips and stood up like it was just any other day. Standing was a new, horrible adventure and with it came glorious headrush and inevitable spike of pounding in her skull.

She got the feeling she'd be bitter at Thane all day. Fucking hangover-proofed drell.]


And unless it's drell for 'in light of your migraine, disregard my previous sanctimonious statement,' I don't care. Translator standard. [At least until she could look it up and gauge just how hard to hit him in response.

It wasn't that she thought he was lying, but Thane had a very...creative relationship with language. 'Not an insult' didn't mean it wasn't a colloquialism that endearingly referred to her as a pantywaist or something similar.]