<div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/cc/d3/eb/ccd3eb851ec1e8945ab9e1e139a25276.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Florinthia 'Flo' Legiticus (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=329085.msg15779216#msg15779216)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Turian<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>Biotic Weapon and Requisition Officer<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">DATE:</span></strong>December 24th, 2174 CE, Evening<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING: </span></strong>Basic-ass Combat Outfit<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong>Bottom Deck Cargo Bay<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Christmas Eve Date<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>Malcolm Thomas<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/><br/>Florinthia wasn't sure why she was going to this length for Malcolm, but she had decided to make their 'date' into something worthwhile. It had been when she remembered that it was Christmas for Humans soon that the decision came to the fore. Recalling Malcolm's talk about his closeness with his mother, and thinking about how the boy-scout was probably a big family sort, it would suck for him to celebrate Christmas with an Email and an evening of boredom alone.<br/><br/>Their date wasn't exactly a place for fireworks or romance, but Flo had sorted some things out. She summoned the Handsome Half-Man with a quick Email through the Ship's extranet, and when he got down to the Cargo Bay he'd see what she'd set up. The Turian's approximation of what Christmas was had manifested in a number of tacky ornaments made out of paper and card. Quickly painted murals of Palm Trees decorated with Christmas decorations; Snowflakes cut out of Paper that were universally, one-hundred percent uniform; Cardboard Snowmen that had distinctly Turian, Salarian, and Krogan features, each with various targets painted on their faces and bodies.<br/><br/>Flo had made a Christmas themed Shooting gallery that was...almost Christmas-ee?<br/><br/>“<strong>Didn't want you getting too lonely on this supposedly important holiday about a... Donkey-Man who served fish?</strong>” She didn't much understand Christmas as she extended a hand to shake Malcolm's. She felt and looked far sturdier than the last time they'd met up, with noticibly more colour on her face and a much more elegent poise to her posture. She had been sick before, but now she looked predatory and, dare she say it, regal. Her attire was pretty basic; Grey scarf-like Robe that wrapped around her shoulders, chest, and then down to her hips, which lay atop a more robust synthetic suit with a number of buttons on the front. It was military looking, with a bit of flair on the top. A pistol was at her side, and it looked...worn. Old, even.<br/><br/>“<strong>Merry Christmas, Dork.</strong>”  She punched him on the arm, the metallic arm, and smirked before turning to the shooting gallery. Everything was hastily thrown together, but it had a sort of Frankenstein charm. It was literally an Alien decorating for Christmas based on second and third hand stories. "<strong>Now, let's shoot something. Loser pours drinks for the winner for the rest of the week.</strong>"