She can see Shepard's hesitation - has learned to read her body language well enough. Well enough to see that Shepard's trepidation sort of mirrors her own - she knows it's a little bit stupid. Maybe a lot stupid - trusting to CDC to have changed her very physiology the way she wants it.
But part of her wants this too badly. And it's a big part.
They start to walk, and nonetheless, it takes Tali a few moments to reach up at all. She's learned over time, over years of learning through watching friends and family die, through her own sicknesses, that doing this is suicide. And now it's time to unlearn.
"So...here goes," and there's a slghtly higher, thinner tone to her voice than usual as she reaches up to unclasp her mask - the customary hiss of escaping air that means she can't go back now - and she pulls the mask off.
The sunlight is immediately over-bright in her eyes and she screws her face up against it, blinking hard. But the next thing she notices, taking a slow, deep breath, is the very texture of the air as she takes it into her lungs. It's thick with moisture, and she can't even begin to describe the scent of it, just that it's all so unlike the sterility of the inside of her mask - and even the clean(ish) rooms she's taken her mask off in - that she doesn't know what to make of it at all.
"Well..." Even her voice sounds strange - resonating in an entirely different way. "I haven't dropped dead straight away, that's a good sign."
A joke, if a feeble one, covering up the sheer sense of wonder as she looks around, taking deep breaths, turning to walk backwards for a secon even as she takes in the vivid colours of everything around them.
i could wait a day and make this a solid month of failure
But part of her wants this too badly. And it's a big part.
They start to walk, and nonetheless, it takes Tali a few moments to reach up at all. She's learned over time, over years of learning through watching friends and family die, through her own sicknesses, that doing this is suicide. And now it's time to unlearn.
"So...here goes," and there's a slghtly higher, thinner tone to her voice than usual as she reaches up to unclasp her mask - the customary hiss of escaping air that means she can't go back now - and she pulls the mask off.
The sunlight is immediately over-bright in her eyes and she screws her face up against it, blinking hard. But the next thing she notices, taking a slow, deep breath, is the very texture of the air as she takes it into her lungs. It's thick with moisture, and she can't even begin to describe the scent of it, just that it's all so unlike the sterility of the inside of her mask - and even the clean(ish) rooms she's taken her mask off in - that she doesn't know what to make of it at all.
"Well..." Even her voice sounds strange - resonating in an entirely different way. "I haven't dropped dead straight away, that's a good sign."
A joke, if a feeble one, covering up the sheer sense of wonder as she looks around, taking deep breaths, turning to walk backwards for a secon even as she takes in the vivid colours of everything around them.