Creepy blood writing. [ Kaidan stuffs the paper talisman beneath his chest plate, a piece of it flapping in the wind. ] Odd.

[ Waking to a dystopian scenery of 1950s North America isn’t odd at all—at least no odder than the usual dreams Kaidan has, and certainly not odder than the type of situations the Normandy crew finds itself in regularly. A dilapidated dinner is positively idyllic to the hazardous environments he’s used to, but that’s no reason to throw caution to the wind. Quite literally, in this case.

From the summoning circle at his feet to the skies above, power thrums everywhere, thunderclaps and lightning bolts all setting his teeth tingling. It overstimulates Kaidan, the habitual build-up of static electricity in his body now becoming less a thin layer he’s learned to ignore and more a sodden blanket he cannot shake off. ] Ow. [ All that energy has to go somewhere. So Kaidan becomes a living strobe light, the blue glow of biotics kicking in whenever there’s too much build up, dissipating whenever he manages to electrostatic discharge something—or someone—then build back up again ]

Just…give me a minute. I’ll figure something out.

Well. That solves my issue.

[ Kaidan supposes if vehicles in various states of disrepair litter this dream then yes, of course the Mako would make an appearance, and of course it wouldn't be spared either. Still, it makes the tech enthusiast in Kaidan flinch at the sight of its popped wheel and gouged side panel. Easy enough repairs for an ESD safe shelter, thankfully.

But it’s a two-person job. ]

Or not.

[ His migraine builds. Despite it, Kaidan pushes forward, massaging his temples as he asks, politely: ] Hey, think you could help me with something?

[ Kaidan decides, right there and then, he hates birds.

Maybe it was the bioluminescence that attracted them, or the shiny armor that’s also blue. Birds like shiny things, right? Whatever running theories Kaidan has about that will have to wait, however, because getting divebombed by three harpies seems a more pressing issue.

Problem—it’s a stalemate. Sure, a biotic barrier in the shape of a dome proves impossible for the harpies to penetrate, repelling them like screechy, feathery bouncy balls. All the electricity coursing through the air makes using biotics a breeze, which is a thrill all on its own apart from the adrenaline of imminent danger. But, regardless of hard-won skill and abundant energy, there’s still the human element.

Kaidan’s getting tired. If the harpies don’t do him in, with their razor-sharp talons and blood-curling shrieks, then exhaustion will. And then the harpies win anyways.

One even has plumage that looks like a Canada goose. Awful. ] I could use some help here. [ He really ought to sound more panicked. Instead, it’s dry, almost sarcastic. ]

[ One cast iron pot and pan, a chef’s knife and a sturdy ladle, that’s all Kaidan needs. If this is going to be his new normal then so be it, but he refuses to eat mess hall crap. It’s bad for morale. ] Think I’ll have to season it? [ He holds up a serviceable-but-rough-looking skillet that smells faintly of bacon. ]

[ OOC: Feel free to hit me up with whatever other prompt you’d like. Kaidan is easy to get along with and has a chronic case of wanting to help however he can. Permissions here, character sheet here. Plurk is sschindylryn if you want to discuss anything. ]