#sparatus clan

[lieutenantabrudas]

There's a shayustu in the shatha's den.

Title: Prince With a Thousand Enemies Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: T Length: 8,751 words Warnings: Hunting, abusive relationships (emotional & physical, both implied and depicted), semi-graphic violence, animal death Summary: When Ierian Sparatus was small, he was anxious, but clever, and his family nicknamed him after the shayustu: a small, wily tundra animal infamous for its tricks that they hoped their son would take after. It took a while, and there were a number of setbacks along the way, but it's hard to kill what cannot be caught, and a shayustu is far too cunning to be caught.

> READ HERE <

soooo i swear i just wanted to just do a short character study of cnclr sparatus inspired by that one watership down quote, and it just. got out of hand. now it's a whole big backstory one-shot, and it doesn't even cover everything. when i tell y'all i have been obsessed with sparatus for 9 years,

the image itself is a shayustu, a rabbit-like tundra animal from palaven's north pole. it looks more like a rabbit when it's crouched, this one is stretched up on its toes. this fic is pretty heavy on the worldbuilding and conlang lads strap in

also counts as my fill for the shrimp skwad discord server's monthly challenge, "in the beginning."

#councilor sparatus #mefanfic #mass effect fanfiction #mass effect #mass effect ocs #canon x oc #writing #ierian sparatus #sparatus clan #aediteia epirian #spirian #drawing #digital #alien fauna

[sparatus]

Let’s go bitch

destiel meme but for writers

HI I GOT EXCITED AND MADE YOU FOUR

for exdiff:

for rise & reign and also the batarian resistance:

and one for the sparatus clan:

#press conference #korblez #ierian's writing #sparatus clan #ierian's ocs #batarian resistance #exdiff

[aceouttatime]

@sparatus' girlies, Galenia and Taniria Arterius--Leni's visiting her big sis on the Citadel after getting her tattoos! Thank you again for letting me draw these two, and you really do bless us with your worldbuilding for the Arterius clan <3

And, yes, I may or may not have taken inspiration from Saren's concept artwork (specifically the black robes he's wearing in the one piece) for Leni's outfit. Currently a puddle because she really is a baby goth who looks up to her uncle, isn't she?

Commission type: Two-Character, Bust, Colored Sketch; $70 USD Interested in a comm? Check my availability, style, and pricing HERE!

#taniria #galenia #arterius #turian #exponential differentiation #exdiff #mass effect #oc #mass effect oc #acecomm #acedraws #digital art #fanart #art #commission #commissions

[omniblades-and-stars]

7 snippets 7 people

I was tagged by @outpost51 here

no pressure tagging: @stormikins, @lag-train, @milkywayes, @vakariansvixen, @shadoedseptmbr, @sparatus, @teamdilf

Well, lemme just see what I've got running around here that I want to subject you lovely people to today. Under a cut for both length, violence and sexy but not explicit shenanigans.

Left to Ashes Read Here

When she awoke, she was separated from the clan sisters who had been taken with her. Held prisoner in the shell of some building she could not even have guessed at the original purpose of, it was so destroyed. Kuresh rose to her full height, flames licking at her eyes once more, and she bellowed at the guard standing watch over her. He returned her shout with a rumbling laugh. He did not live to learn to regret mocking her. Kuresh threw her arm out in front of her, violet light fell from her hand and like a wave, it pelted the ground with energy, knocking her guard to the floor. She rushed him, pulled his shotgun free from his hands, and painted the dust with his blood. A fresco left as evidence of her wrath. Kuresh made her way out of the compound, and met little resistance along the way. Most of the clan was celebrating noisily and drunkenly further inside. What resistance she met, she returned with the kind of violence and determination that could only be wrought by a woman at the point of her breaking. With nothing but the clothes on her back and the gun in her hands, Kuresh headed into the wilderness.

The Last Time (A Game of Cat and Mouse) Read Here

Muscle and bone shifts beneath the tan skin of her back as she undulates. Her back is a star-chart, made up of tiny constellations of freckles and scars. Bruises blooming purple and blue prove the background of the galaxy mapped out between her shoulder blades and beyond. He props himself up on one hand before gently running a short talon over a long jagged just below her shoulder blade. "This one?" He asks, breaking the silence. Her skin pebbles beneath his touch, goosebumps, she calls them. She shivers as his finger trails across her back. "From the time I killed an elcor diplomat," she says through heavy, panting breaths. "Didn't think he'd be sneaky enough to hide a knife." She is lying, a preposterous lie at that. He has asked her about it before. The last time, it was from a krogan battlemaster's pet varren. He is fairly certain it is a scar from a turian's unfiled talon. He moves again to sit up completely, and her back arches to accommodate him. His left hand circles around her body, tracing gentle lines over her skin, admiring the bumps that form in its wake, but only for a moment. He presses his other hand around the base of her throat, he can feel the tendons shift as she swallows and moves, and the beat of her heart, fast and strong. He can feel another line, just under her breast. "And what of this one?" He asks with his lips pressed against her neck, he can taste the salt of her sweat. He knows the answer. He put it there.

Don't Forget the Rule (A Game of Charades) Read Here

She could feel the tacky residue of someone else's black lipstick smeared across her lips, she couldn't even remember whose lips put it there, and the remnants of cheap eyeliner and mascara, melting from the heat of her body as she danced, rehardening in the creases of her eyes. She could have been there for minutes or hours, it was impossible to tell. She was lost in the music. The heavy, grungy distortion of the guitars scraped inside her mind, drowning out her conflicting, inconvenient thoughts. And the bass? Oh, the bass. It thundered in her chest, felt like it changed the rhythm of her heart. It punched over her skin like an electric shock, rattled her teeth, and settled heavy in her spine. It enveloped her in a blanket of sound that she felt more than heard. And it blessedly robbed her of the memory of the way his voice overtook her senses, raised the hair on her arms, made her shiver. Made her yearn. Lust, she could deal with, but actual wanting? A need for someone to actually know her? That was dangerous. The flashing strobes that filled her vision with stutter-stop dancers, and the oppressive, humid warmth of strange bodies against her were almost enough to make her forget that ache that was in her chest. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms over the shoulders of the stranger pressed against her, and allowed herself to get pulled into the undertow of the slow, driving waves. Soon she found herself sandwiched in between two people, the heat of the space, and her own body, growing just shy of unbearable. It was perfect.

Suck It Up, Buttercup (Multiple snippets because I'm fucking funny) Read Here

The batarian had not been smart. A pain in the ass, to be quite fucking certain, but not smart. He led Massani halfway around the galaxy before ending up here. The bounty hunter should have just waited here for the idiot to show up, it would have been a damn sight easier. Cheaper too. And god dammit, the bastard was still struggling to get free. Zaeed kneed him in the gut, and turned to wait for his contact. She was running late, not a promising start. He had been very surprised when he was informed who was leading this mission, because she was supposed to be fucking dead. Her parting taunt in Port had been pushed aside in his mind almost immediately, until her face was plastered all over every available holo and vid screen announcing her death. It had been little more than a week since their encounter. Honestly, he was more than half convinced this was going to be some sort of imposter, or hell, even a clone. But what the fuck did he care? He was just here for the credits and Vido's life. The very first thing he noticed about her was that god awful hot pink armor of hers as she approached him. It was so bright, he became acutely aware of her as she stepped off of the docking cradle. She was like a goddamn homing beacon, a walking neon billboard with big bright pink letters that said, "ENEMIES SHOOT HERE". Goddamn ridiculous. The second thing he noticed were her new scars. They scattered across her cheeks like broken glass. For the life of him, he couldn't figure what caused them. They were goddamn unusual. She definitely did not have them on Bekenstein. Everything else about her was as he remembered, short brown hair with the sides shorn down, sharp angular nose, startling green eyes, and brimming with the sort of confidence that makes one a pain in the ass. "Please … please you have to help-" the batarian tried to plead for help from Commander Shepard. But Zaeed cut him off with a hard kick to the ribs. "No one said you could talk, jackass." "You have to be fucking kidding me," Frankie said by way of greeting as she crossed her arms over her chest.

The liquid burned in that pleasant way it always did as Zaeed took his sip. He placed himself on the opposite wall from her, and offered her the bottle once more. She took it. "Frankie, exactly how long have you been back?" Frankie cocked her head, as if she had not even considered how long she'd been undead for. He watched as she mumbled to herself and counted her fingers around the neck of the whiskey bottle. "Shit … more than one week, less than two?" Her hand found her cheek, where she toyed with the scars still covering it. "They hadn't even finished putting me back together again before I woke up in the middle of a firefight. Had to fight my way out of a medical lab less than a minute after I woke up from being dead. Commander Humpty-fucking-Dumpty over here." "Goddamn." Whatever Shepard was, she definitely earned her reputation. Hard to imagine waking up with your last memory being of getting spaced and then being expected to work for your number two enemy to save the world. Yet here she was. "Goddamn …" She echoed numbly. She tossed her head back and took an absolutely glutinous and obscene gulp from the bottle.

It hit Frankie's ears like flint against metal. Fire blossomed in her eyes. "Bull rushed? Fucking bull rushed?" Her fists clenched and she whipped around and started to stalk back to the impertinent bitch who hounded her constantly after the battle. Only to find a huge arm thrust across her stomach and pulling her back. "No you fucking don't," Zaeed grunted as he struggled against Frankie's furious form. "I'm gonna fucking rearrange her teeth with my fist! I'm going to pull all of that fucking hair right out of her- uugh!" Frankie's incandescent raging was briefly interrupted as the mercenary spun her around and tossed her over his shoulder like an angry sack. "God dammit, Massani, put me fucking down!" She pushed up from his back to try to twist out of his grip but he simply jostled her very hard until she fell again. "No fist fights with reporters, Shepard. Even if she bloody well deserves it. I'm not bailing you out of jail," Massani said while barely suppressing a laugh. He started walking back towards the stairs to go back to the Normandy. Frankie's cheeks were bright red, but she was still mad as hell. "Garrus!" She reached her arm back toward the turian who was positively laughing his fucking ass off at her. "God dammit, Garrus! Help me! This is fucking embarrassing!"

Frankie shrieked with laughter, she was laughing so hard she nearly fell off her crates. She was fucking cackling. She clutched her stomach and wiped a tear from her eye, "You think I was with him?" She seemed genuinely surprised, and out of breath. "I saw how he looked at you on Horizon, right before he called you a traitor. He wants it, fucking bad. Assumed there was a sordid history there. Disappointing, bland sex, sappy love letters, the whole nauseating bag." "Ha! Everyone looks at me like that. He tried though. I swear, you're nice to a man for five minutes and all of a sudden he thinks you're dating and making plans like what kind of throw pillows to buy for the apartment. "Yes ma'am" this and "yes ma'am" that." Frankie hopped up from the crates, her booted feet hit the deck with a loud thunk, and she put her hands on her hips. "Could you fucking imagine? Vanilla ass bitch. I'd get bored in a day. Goddamn ridiculous." Massani turned on his stool to regard the woman, who was raising her one eyebrow at him. She was probably actually raising both, but one was currently missing. "What is your type then, if it's not young, handsome, and positively fucking drooling over you, Princess?" Frankie wrinkled her nose very briefly, before flashing a toothy and confident smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Buttercup?" She asked with a wink and then turned on her heel. He definitely watched her leave, becoming distinctly aware of just how long her legs were. She was out of his sight before he could really appreciate them, however. He heard her shouting, "Jack! You frosty bitch, look what fucking happened to my goddamn face!" as she disappeared deeper into the engineering deck. “What the fuck, Shepard! Did you fucking kiss the thresher maw?” Jack’s reply echoed back up the stairs before the doors slid shut.

#daisy screaming into the void #i just want to be clear #i am not a kaidan hater #frankie is just like that

[writernopal]

Find the Word

Hi, hello, using this as proof that I do indeed live lol I've just been. Having A Time. Anyway, thank you to @oh-no-another-idea for tagging me here!

My words to find were: remember, something, blue, and dawn. All sneeps are coming from Man O' War for this one because I desperately miss this project!

remember

‘Do not expect to return as you are.’  Quye’ck looked all around. Not a thing for miles. Did it matter where he went? ‘With any luck, you shall return as who you are meant to be.’ Perhaps. Perhaps not. But anywhere was better than standing here.  ‘The wilds are the furnace and anvil with which Kava perfects us in her image. Remember that and you shall not break.’

something

They walked, in his case, slithered, for miles and miles, cleaving through sand and across earth. Sand and earth. Sand and earth… Golden and shining. Waves upon waves of splendor decorated the horizon, marvelously unaware of their own violence, blotched only by the occasional tuft of something living and wild. Perhaps a hare or a dried up shrub. It was hard to know, and he hardly cared. The blank stares from before had yet to leave his mind, and the hobbling steps of the modest one created an uneasy clock, ticking down and down…  Four days later, the clock stopped ticking, striking instead a heavy sound.  They stopped. 

blue

A man as tall and wide as his Pa, though far more wrinkled, circled the couple, speaking words not of contract but of unity. He donned robes in the same bright colors of the squawking birds that decorated the canopies of The Heartlands—rich greens, vivid yellows, and brilliant blues—to stand out against his maroon scales. Jewelry crafted of carefully carved wood and bone dangled around his neck, wrists, and ankles, making the pieces of steel in his nose all the more noticeable. They glinted in the candlelight. One, two, three, four, five rings straddled the space between his nostrils, one for each of his wives. Not just ‘a man’ then, no, he was the indelible, the ancient, Lord X’chtlama, Clan Leader of Lexlar. The only one worth remembering in that sea of faces.

dawn

He flinched and from the cluttered space emerged a woman. She was old and walked with a cane. Her scales were a silvery-blue, like the waking color of the dawn sky, and her shoulders were hunched. They made the papery crest trailing down her back appear more like a vestigial fin or perhaps a tattered piece of old fashion. Swirls of shapeless fabric draped over her person, given structure by cleverly placed pins and a heavy belt. On her face, a kindly and teetering smile. One which made apparent the puckering creases on her snout and around her mouth as it quivered to form that pleasant look.

Tagging (gently): @tabswrites @void-botanist @thatndginger @sarahlizziewrites

Your words will be: wither, gather, surreal, and fragrant

M.O.W Taglist: @moonluringfrost @full-on-sam @illjustpretend @sparatus @outpost51 @captain-kraken @the-mindless @zestymimblo @mysticstarlightduck @tabswrites @void-botanist

Join/leave the taglist using this Google Form.

#tag game #find the word tag #m.o.w #my writing

[outpost51]

Sup Folks!! Shrimpie Spotlight time!!

Surprise Challenge 004: blaze it was all about anything to do with smoke, fire, etc! Fills had to be under 1k words. Bonus: exactly 420 words.

Burn the Evidence (Mass Effect) || @thetrashbagswasteland

Some places can't be called home anymore but some never were a home to begin with, not really.

don’t yell help. (Mass Effect) || @korblez

Backing a wild animal into a corner seldom ends well. Backing Jane Shepard into a corner never does.

Summer Heat (Mass Effect) || @sparatus

Every summer, the Sparatus clan kicks off the prey-rich season with a big hunt - and a big bonfire to send them off. Teia has been invited to attend for the first time, but she has a few reservations.

Sullust (SWOTR) || @bardic-tales

Famed Bounty Hunter, Szacco, is sent to capture a Sullustan who has proven to be a thorn in the side of Darth Noktis.

Smoking Grass and Scorched Earth (Mass Effect) || Missjlh

Castis and Alec are stoned and talk about military history, as one often does when intoxicated.

#server fics #bestie’s writing #cast’s writing #j's writing #NL's writing #my fic #discord.txt #writeblr community tag

[anderwhohn]

@smokedanced asked: Send "shut up and dance with me!" for your muse to drag mine out onto the dance floor / garrus for izzy in hierarchy

💌 private meme collection

"Garrus," she hisses, subtly trying to tug her hand free from his grip even as he pulls her to her feet, panic filling her emerald gaze despite her efforts to keep from broadcasting her emotions for every other turian in attendance. She's certain, if she had subvocals of her own, there would be no hiding the anxiety and embarrassment she feels as she's certain they'd be going haywire as she's guided to the dance floor by her best friend who happens to also be her superior officer.

Of course, she knows the steps of the dance - every turian in Hierarchy space does, as is expected of them by their society - but she also knows that she's at a disadvantage due to her shorter stature and the different shape of her legs, coming across more as an inexperienced adolescent rather than a competent adult when she struggles to keep up with the turians she's had to dance with in the past. And if it only brought embarrassment and shame to her, Isabela could live with it, but with it reflecting poorly on both her clan and her dance partner...

Spirits, Castis is going to more pissed at her than usual when this is done, especially with Councillor Sparatus and the various Primarchs - including Primarch Fedorian - in attendance at this event.

Looking up at Garrus helplessly, she quietly submits to his silent demands, the majority of the onlookers none the wiser of the subtle show of defiance and insubordination on her part as she readies herself the best she can, hoping against hope that she can at least perform well enough to not thoroughly disgrace her stubborn friend.

#smokedanced #smokedanced ( garrus vakarian ) #dreams of elsewhere ( ic ) #engineering death ( isabela shepard ) #shipverse || the darkest night never felt so bright ( shepard ) #shipverse au || we are not like the others ( hierarchy | shepard ) #garrus || smokedanced ( shepard ) #without you i'm lost ( shepard & garrus ) #there was a point to this story ( answered )

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Magnificent Scoundrels- We’re the Best

“This is Unit Delta-5-9!  We need immediate reinforcements!  We’re getting torn up over here!”

“Copy that, Delta-5-9.  Who are the hostiles in your area?”

“Commander Shepard is here!  Repeat, Commander Shepard is here!”

“Copy that.  Anyone else?”

“There’s one guy in some sort of silver armor.  With a spear!  He’s tearing up our guys like it’s no problem!”

“...repeat last.”

“Yes, he’s got a spear!  And there are these two guys in trench coats, too!”

“What are they doing?”

“Uh… dancing?” “...”

“And there’s some other guy, too.  He’s moving too fast for us to track, and… where did he go?”

“Hello.” 

“Wha-” [Several gunshots are fired.  Transmission ends.]  -Transmission Intercepted from Attacking Force Delta by combined Quarian/Starfleet/Mechanicus operatives

“The elevators in this place are so goddamn slow.”  Shepard shrugged at Drake, a move which made him bump against Vir.  

“Yeah, I know.  Cramped, too.”  

“Got that right,” muttered Quill as he jostled for position with Cooper.  Drake sighed and activated his wrist computer.  

“Might as well do something useful.  Ordelphine!  Saul!  Whoever the hell’s up there.  You might have heard, but we have problems down here.  Every available crewmember is to deploy with full… everything.  Heavy weapons, heavy armor, tell Garang to wear the power armor, and get Kraiker, Mark, Oliver, and Muelka to get down here with all their stuff.”  He paused for a moment, then pressed the transmit button with almost indecent haste.  “And tell Muelka to not set anything on fire!”  He shrugged at Shepard and Quill’s curious expressions.  “I think it would be best if my crew and I were remembered for saving the Citadel, not blowing it up.”  Vir shrugged and nodded.

“Makes sense.  Actually, I ought to get my crew down here too.”  He tapped the communications button on the side of his Iron Eye helmet.  “Simone!  Cannon!  Get the Marines, Valhallans, and Drev clan down here!  This is a full battle.  Extended combat operations, so be ready for that.”

“Understood, sir.  I…  uh… Conn wants me to tell you that… “A vampire masturbating in front of a mirror.  Bet you didn’t see that coming.”  What the hell?  Conn, you little-”  Vir shook his head.

“It’s fine.  So as long as he stays there.  We don’t want to freak too many people out.”  

“Yes, sir.  Although that means I’m stuck with him,” responded a slightly put-out Simone.

“Have fun!” replied Vir with a bit too much cheerfulness than was required.

“I’m sure I will, sir.”  Vir released the comms button on his helmet and shook his head again.  

“I’m not so sure I want to meet Conn,” intoned Quill.  

“Take my advice and just… don’t,” replied Vir.  Quill nodded. 

“Fair enough.”  he rubbed his chin for a moment.  “At least I don’t have to contact anyone.  Everyone from my ship is in the other elevator.”

“Maybe you should have gone with them,” muttered Cooper as he jostled against Quill once more.  

“No.  Drax is there, and he takes up way too much space as it is.”  Shepard shook his head at their banter, and activated his comms as well.

“Miranda, get the ground team down here.  The entire ground team.”

“Should I come along as well?” replied a woman’s Australian-accented voice.  Shepard considered for a moment.

“Yes.  Tell Joker not to get the Normandy too beat up while we’re gone.”

“Understood, Commander.”  Cooper looked over from where he was pressed against the glass.  

“So, we have that down.  Now what?”  Shepard activated a button, and a glowing orange hologram sprang to life around his left arm.  He pressed something else, and a map of the Citadel came up.

“We’re here.” He tapped near the Council chambers.  “There’s a pretty hefty attacking force outside, fighting C-Sec officers and Turian shock troopers outside.  We clear the attackers, set up a space where shuttle reinforcements can land, and proceed from there.”  Everyone nodded.  

“Well, that’s a better plan than most of what we do.”  The group looked at each other speculatively.  

“Yeah.  Yeah, it is,” said Quill.  “Reminds me.  Have I ever told you about the time where I saved the galaxy with only 17% of a plan?”  

Elsewhere on the Citadel

It was decided that Master Chief would take up the rear, as eight feet of muscle and Mjolnir armor would be a reasonable deterrent for most pursuers.  There had been a short but intense argument over who would lead, but Kirk had suggested a combined force of bodyguards to placate everyone.  

Now, a group of various bodyguards led the delegates through the under-tunnels of the Citadel to safety, with Cain, Kirk, and Solo sprinkled throughout the formation.  The delegates murmured to each other, careful to not let their words be overheard.  Each had groups of powerful special forces soldiers at their command, and each was wondering what to do with them, or if and when to deploy them.  

“Councillors!  We are under heavy fire!  Some of the C-Sec officers have turned traitor, and the attackers are taking more of the Citadel.  We need reinforcements!” came a desperate cry over the communication systems.  Sparatus, the Turian Councillor, replied immediately.  

“Hierarchy soldiers are currently on the ground.  We’ll send more, but it will take a while for their shuttles to get there.  You’ll have to hold,” he replied curtly.  Several other diplomats heard the exchange.  Normally, many would not have lent their forces to the fight, but if it meant the difference of getting out alive or dead, it wasn’t even a question.

“Captain Faro, this is Thrawn.  Deploy our troopers immediately.  Have TIE’s escort the shuttles.  Keep the Destroyers in a holding position.”

“Captain, this is Agent Omicron.  Have the ODSTs ready to drop immediately.”

“Watch Captain, this is Inquisitor Vail.  Order the Scions to deploy in high altitude grav drop.  Have the Kill Team and the Assassins ready in the teleportariums.”

“Captain, this is Marder.  Have the Pilots stand ready in their Titans and be ready to deploy.”

Elsewhere on the Citadel

The elevator sounded a clear, high ding! and the doors slid slowly open.  

“Fucking finally,” muttered Drake.  The next elevator over sounded a similar chime and disgorged Quill’s crew, looking none happier than the Scoundrels over the slow ride down.  The sounds of gunfire and screams filled the air from just beyond the indoor plaza at the foot of the Council Chambers.  “Well, back to something I know better.  Actually…”  Drake’s face turned into a sly grin.  “Tali!  Scotty!  Can you two give me control of the P.A. system?”  

“Why do you want the P.A. system?” came Scotty’s, well, Scottish bur.  

“Uh… psychological warfare?”  There was a pregnant pause on the other end.  Drake tried again.  “For funsies?”  

“...fine.”  There was another pause.  “You have control Drake,” came a very tired sounding Scotty.  

“Wonderful!” replied Drake, utterly delighted.  “Now, here comes the fun part.”

------------------------------------------------

Major Viter of the Turian Hierarchy cursed as a bullet chipped the wall he was kneeling behind.  The Cerberus attackers and traitor C-Sec agents had his combined forces of Hierarchy soldiers and loyal C-Sec agents pinned down in front of the Citadel Tower.  They had held well enough for the past ten minutes of grueling firefights, long enough to give the Council and the other delegates enough time to escape.  Viter didn’t care much for the other diplomats, but he had been ordered to hold, and death was a preferable alternative to disobeying those orders.  Another volley of fire raked the wall, and he shrank back from it.  Cerberus was getting crafty.  They knew the Hierarchy shock troopers were far superior to the C-Sec agents under his command, so they endeavored to keep the Turians pinned down for as long as possible.  Not good.  He turned to his left and yelled at his communications officer.

“Where are those reinforcements?  We can’t hold the tower without them!”  

“They’re still ten minutes out!  And that’s not including the time it’ll take the shuttles to find a safe landing zone!”  Viter cursed.  “But someone said we have additional reinforcements en-route.  Some kind of special team,” added the communications officer.  Viter calmly shot down a traitor C-Sec agent who was stupid enough to poke their head in the open before turning back.  

“What kind of special team?”  But before the comms officer could replay, the Citadel’s P.A. system fizzed to life.  Cerberus, C-Sec, and Turian soldiers looked up with confusion as an unmistakably human show tune started to play.  

“Yippie yay!  There’ll be no wedding bells for today!”  There was a flash of electric blue, and a Cerberus trooper took a shot to her head, which promptly melted, complete with horrifying screams from its wearer.  Viter looked back to the Tower’s entrance.  Standing there was a black haired, black coated human wielding a silvery, triple barreled rifle.  Flanking him was another masked and trenchcoated human, a small (about up to viter’s knee), rodent-like creature holding a full-sized machine gun, and… Commander Shepard.  Back from the dead?  To borrow a human expression: Oh boy.  This just got interesting.

  As the abominably cheerful tune continued to play, a figure clad in solid grey metal armor and some massive, bare-chested, grey and orange humanoid alien ran past Viter at speeds he didn’t think were possible for a biped to produce.  He did a double take.  They were holding a spear and two knives respectively.  Did they have a death wish?  The Cerberus and C-Sec attackers seemed to think so, as they stepped forward as one to cut the running figures down.  

With no warning, a man wearing a strange set of advanced-looking armor materialized beyond a Cerberus trooper wielding a machine gun, drew a pistol, gave a cheerful “Hi!”, blew the back of the trooper’s head apart, and disappeared.  Farther down, a Cerberus combat engineer looked down at his chest, where a lithe blade appeared through his breastbone.  A green-skinned alien woman gave him a surreptitious wink, and, before his comrades could react, faded into oblivion.  

Within the space of a second, the attacking line devolved into panic.  The gunmen behind the running figures opened fire, forcing the Cerberus personnel to keep their heads down as the two sprinting figures collided with them at full tilt.  

The grey figure’s spear slid through a trooper’s neck armor joint, producing a gurgled sigh as he crumpled to the ground.  The silvery figure spun around, and with pinpoint precision, impaled another Cerberus trooper through the joints of her armor.  The massive grey humanoid went flying into a group of traitorous C-Sec agents with reckless and utterly terrifying abandon, stabbing wildly.  

The green-skinned woman appeared once more, and gracefully cut down two Cerberus soldiers with just as many strokes of her keen-bladed swords.  The Turians and loyal C-Sec agents were now all firing at the disorganized attackers, Shepard was killing with horrifying, lethal accuracy, the rodent-creature was cackling maniacally as it fired it’s huge machine gun, the two trenchcoated men were dancing along to the music over the P.A. system while firing off precise, perfectly timed-to-the-beat shots, there was a walking tree now that was impaling people with wooden growths from its arms, and the man in advanced armor, who had been appearing and disappearing was now running on the walls, almost horizontally, supported by only thrusters on the back of the suit and a hand held out for balance.  In short, utter mayhem.  

The man hopping from wall to wall jumped down and kicked a Cerberus trooper with enough force to crack her helmet.  The grey armored man and green-skinned woman impaled two more opponents with perfect synchronicity.  Viter overloaded a Cerberus soldier’s shields, then shot him in the head.  The last enemy, a panicking traitorous C-Sec agent, turned and ran, only to be gunned down by the black coated human.   

The grey armored figure removed their helmet to reveal the cheerful face of a green-eyed, blond-haired human man.  Shepard and he walked over to Major Viter, who turned and stared at them with an expression that was equal parts confusion, shock, and gratefulness.  

“I’m assuming you’re the team that was sent to assist me?” he asked.  “Pardon me asking, but who exactly are you?”  Shepard opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the black coated man.

“We’re the Magnificent Scoundrels, and we put the laughter into slaughter!”  Shepard’s mouth moved spasmodically for a few moments before the blond haired man stepped in.

“Don’t… don’t listen to… him.”  The black coated man shrugged.

“Yeah.  I get that a lot.”  Shepard rolled his eyes.

“We’re a team made up from a variety of different governments present, and we’re here to help take back the Citadel.”  Shepard looked around, experienced eyes taking in the mayhem around them.  “What now?” he asked Viter.  Viter’s mandibles moved in an expression that Shepard recognized as turian thoughtfulness.  

“Well, we press on and clean up the Citadel.  But we,” he gestured at the group, “Can’t do it alone.  We’re going to need help.”  Shepard and the blond man shared a knowing glance.  

“Don’t worry, ‘cause help you’re going to get.” 

If you have any comments, questions, concerns, criticisms, questions, or requests, feel free to tell me.  For the curious, the song is called “Jingle Jangle Jingle.”  I recommend finding the Fallout New Vegas version ‘cause apparently it’s the only remastered version on the internet.  

#story #writing #my writing #crossover #magnificent scoundrels #mass effect #guardians of the galaxy

[thebloodychampion]

Mass Effect Muses Timeline

Timeline Mass Effect Characters (Minus Andromeda)

Before CE counting and the rachni wars: Haxten Haghar is born and dies

200 CE: Haxten Traegar is born 220 CE: Haxten Travya is born 300 CE: Rachni War is over 785 CE: Nakmor Drack is born 801 CE: Madadh is born 886 CE: Wreav is born 905 CE: Haxten Treagar and Haxten Travva die 901 CE: Madadh joins clan Haxten 905 CE: Haxten clan gets destroyed 990 CE: Wreav joins clan Urdnot 1000 CE: Madadh joins clan Jurdon 1276 CE: Jirida Avequa is born 1376 CE: Ganar Drealav is born 1480 CE: Ganar Drealav joins the Silent Krogan 1562 CE: Karnesh is born on Korlus

Warlord Okeer and DNA

1676 CE: Nyx Avequa is born 1679 CE: Nyx father Gaernik dies 1694 CE: Nyx suffers from an illness, making her heart weaker 1780 CE: Nyx moves to the Citadel to become an acolyte to the consort 1786 CE: Cagar is born

Jorgal Qhorin and unknown female

1786 CE: Madadh and Nyx meet 1787 CE: Drealav joins the Blood Pack 1787 CE: Cagar gets taken away from Tuchanka by her father 1854 CE: Tunar Cede is born 1862 CE: Karnesh escapes from his father to Omega 1862 CE: Karnesh joins the Blood Pack 1872 CE: Karnesh gets injured from Jirida during a fight 1886 CE: Lisell is born

Jurdon Madadh & Nyx Avequa

1890 CE: Tasha is born 1895 CE: Geth War with the Quarians 2016 CE: Nyx tells Madadh about Lisell 2077 CE: Liara T’Soni is born 2078 CE: Renus Nyras is born 2083 CE: Valetta Nyras is born 2083 CE: Karnesh moves to the Citadel 2085 CE: Pelessaria B’Sayle is born 2086 CE: Cagar is rescued by Karnesh,her father Qhorin is killed by Karnesh 2088 CE: Arynus Sparatus is born 2089 CE: Maltenix Sparatus is born 2089 CE: Maniter Murion is born 2090 CE: Septer Suldonis is born 2093 CE: Karnesh is contacted by the Shadow Broker after getting viable information back 2096 CE: Myrean Nyras is born 2097 CE: Laxin Nyras is born 2105 CE: Vyrnus Draxas is born 2108 CE: Haral Nyras is born 2110 CE: Tania Suldonis is born 2112 CE: Cyrna Draxas is born 2112 CE: Marius Nyras is born 2113 CE: Karnesh becomes officially an agent of the Shadow Broker 2113 CE: Renius Sparatus is born 2113 CE: Haryn is born 2118 CE: Cloria Bonisis is born 2119 CE: Adrien Victus is born 2120 CE: Maniter Murion dies 2120 CE: Hieriax Sparatus is born 2122 CE: Ventra Sparatus 2124 CE: Macen Barro is born 2125 CE: Aleksej Blatov is born 2125 CE: Potiva Octatus is born 2126 CE: Luc Laxius is born 2128 CE: Lorik Qui’in is born 2129 CE: Alec Ryder is born 2130 CE: Taponia Murion is born 2130 CE: Quiva Ocatus is born 2130 CE: Liza Shepard is born 2131 CE: Ellen Ryder is born 2134 CE: Avitus Rix is born 2134 CE: Laxin Nyras dies 

Corpalis Syndrom

2135 CE: Irelius Draxas is born 2136 CE: Irelius’s parents find out he has CIPA syndrom 2136 CE: Quentius Zuris is born 2136 CE: Quentius parents die 2138 CE: Tibesius Suldonis is born 2139 CE: Cosna Salvilus is born 2139 CE: Caius Salvilus is born 2140 CE: Deros Maetos is born 2142 CE: Quitilia Suldonis is born 2143 CE: Radim Queriak and Lartis Queriak are born 2143 CE: Construction of Gagarin Station (Jump Zero) begins 2144 CE: Irius Sparatus is born

Renius Sparatus & Haryn Sparatus

2144 CE: Querina Draxas is born 2145 CE: Tayus Draxas is born 2145 CE: Irelius finds out he has biotics 2146 CE: Maxius Naeryas is born 2146 CE: Quentius gets adopted by an elcor and an asari 2146 CE: Haeris Tykis is born 2146 CE: Lucius Suldonis is born 2147 CE: Nymeda Ventas is born 2148 CE: Karnesh acquires the “Queen Anne’s Revenge” ship 2148 CE: Humand discover the Prothean Ruins on Mars 2149 CE: Myrean Nyras dies

Headshot from a batarian

2149 CE: Bautas Wrenkus is born 2149 CE: Renius Sparatus is recruited in the Black Watch 2149 CE: Humans discovered a Mass Relay 2150 CE: Garrus Vakarian is born 2151 CE: Maron Hinom is born 2152 CE: Irelius is sent to the Cabals 2153 CE: Irelius escapes the Cabals by killing an instructor by accident 2153 CE: Invictus is created by Irelius for a short time 2153 CE: Irelius flees to Omega and meets Lisell 2154 CE: Nedra Shepard and Nigel Shepard are born 2154 CE: Oswin Shepard is born under the name Alexandria Petrovka 2154 CE: Noah Shepard is born 2154 CE: Liza Shepard dies

Unknown?

2156 CE: Bono Baffabar is born 2156 CE: Torana Sparatus is born

Renius Sparatus & Haryn Sparatus

2157 CE: Relay 314 Incident / First Contact War 2157 CE: Ventra Sparatus dies

Killed in action on Shanxi

2157 CE: Hieriax Sparatus dies

Killed in action on Shanxi

2158 CE: Arynus Sparatus dies

Suicide

2158 CE: Maltenix Sparatus dies

Heart Failure

2158 CE: Vivia Bonisis is born

Marius Nyras & Cloria Bonisis

2158 CE: Tibesius gets married to Aedisia Quaril (arranged) 2159 CE: Serlio Salvilus is born

Caius Salvilus & Quitilia Salvilus

2160 CE: Titus Faion is born 2160 CE: Irelius becomes Clavius and changes his whole identity 2160 CE: Clavius joins the Blue Suns 2160 CE: Shaela’Riel is born 2160 CE: Camilea Octatus is born 2162 CE: Nolus Abgius is born 2161 CE: Max Kyrik is born

Nihlus Kryik & Taponia Murion

2161 CE: Irius enlists in the military 2161 CE: Han’Xanis is born 2163 CE: Salla Ryder and Andrew Ryder are born 2163 CE: Silia Salvilus is born

Haral Nyras & Quitilia Salvilus

2165 CE: Yandra Nyras and Tachyus Nyras are born 2166 CE: Anaya Kuik is born 2166 CE: Sunip Malone is born 2167 CE: Irius Sparatus quiets the military and goes to the Citadel 2167 CE: Lisell Avequa adopts Han on Illium 2167 CE: Maron destroys an STG base and is on the run from STG 2168 CE: Irius becomes an assistant to the Turian Councilor 2168 CE: Renus Nyras dies

Heart Failure

2168 CE: Haeris Tykis father Commander Vyrnus dies

Killed by Kaidan Alenko

2170 CE: Human Colony of Mindoir is attacked by Batarian slavers 2172 CE: Valetta Nyras dies

Old Age

2172 CE: Septer Suldonis and Tania Suldonis die

Old Age

2173 CE: Irius Sparatus becomes Turian Councilor 2174 CE: Serlio enlists in boot camp 2175 CE: Vyrnus Draxas dies

Assassinated

2176 CE: Attack on Ellysium happens 2176 CE: Nedra Shepard defends the colony of Ellysium 2176 CE: Clavius Tarxis meets Camilea Octatus 2176 CE: Nolus parent’s die 2176 CE: Karnesh meets Maron on the Citadel 2177 CE: Thresher Maws wipe out an entire unit on Akuze 2177 CE: Lexia Tarxis is born 2177 CE: Clavius quits the Blue Suns 2178 CE: Retaliation of Elysium on moon of Torfan 2178 CE: Noah Shepard kills the batarians on the moon. 2178 CE: Oswin does the same thing. 2178 CE: Quitilia Suldonis dies

Explosion

2178 CE: Cosna Salvilus fakes his own death 2178 CE: Clavius becomes Irius bodyguard after he kills the remaining bodyguards 2178 CE: Silia gets kidnapped 2179 CE: Silia is getting back, but blinded 2179 CE: Serlio quits the military to be with his sister 2180 CE: Tibesius is rank of commander in the military 2180 CE: Tibesius has a drunken thing with another army officer 2180 CE: SAM short for Simulated Adaptive Matrix is constracted by Alec Ryder 2181 CE: Serlio and Silia get kicked out by Tibesius 2182 CE: Serlio and Silia live on Omega 2182 CE: Tachyus is diagnosed with Corpalis Syndrom 2183 CE: Serlio and Silia get to the Citadel with the help of Karnesh 2183 CE: Geth attack on Eden Prime 2183 CE: Nihlus Kryik dies

Killed by Saren Arterius

2183 CE: Matriarch Benezia dies

Killed by Shepard

2183 CE: Sovereign attacks the Citadel 2183 CE: Saren Arterius dies

Suicide / Killed by Commander Shepard

2183 CE: Noah, Oswin, Nedra Shepard are killed by the collectors 2184 CE: Shepards clone is stolen by Rasa from Lazarus Research Stationi 2185 CE: Noah, Oswin and Nedra are brought back to life by Cerberus 2185 CE: Andromeda Initiative is launched. 2185 CE: Nakmor Drack, Pelessaria B’Sayle, Avitus Rix, Alec Ryder, Salla Ryder, Andrew Ryder and Macen Barro all go to Andromeda. 2185 CE: Haryn Sparatus dies

Killed by Collectors

2185 CE: Collector Base is destroyed by Shepard 2185 CE: The Alpha Relay is destroyed by Shepard 2185 CE: Lisell and Han go to the Citadel to live with Nyx 2185 CE: Camephilia Octatus is born 2186 CE: Garrus mother dies

Corpalis Syndrom

2186 CE: Reaper War begins 2186 CE: Aleksei Blatov dies 2186 CE: Bautas Wrenkus dies

Killed in action during the Reaper War

2186 CE: Maxius Naeryas dies

Killed in action during the Reaper War

2186 CE: Lartis Queriak dies

Killed in action during the Reaper War

2186 CE: Radim Queriak dies

Killed in action during the Reaper War

2186 CE: Nymeda Ventas dies

Killed in action during the Reaper War

2186 CE: Deros Maetos dies

Killed in action during the Reaper War

2186 CE: Haeris Tykis dies

Killed in action during the Reaper War

2186 CE: Quentius Zuris is believed dead but gets into a coma 2186 CE: Marius Nyras is believe dead, goes into a coma 2186 CE: Reapers are destroyed 2187 CE: Haral Nyras quits the Blackwatch after suffering heavy casualties and being unable to walk 2187 CE: Renius spends a year in hospital and is unable to speak about what happened during the war. 2187 CE: Camilea’s parents and her little brother die

Killed by Ganar Drealav

2187 CE: Camephilia is kidnapped by Ganar Drealav 2187 CE: Haral meets Lisell 2187 CE: Renius begins dating Vivia Bonisis 2187 CE: Maron Hinom dies

Old Age

2187 CE: Marius wakes up from his coma but has amnesia 2187 CE: Nyx Avequa and Jurdon Madadh are reunited 2188 CE: Cosna Salvilus dies

KIlled by Ganar Drealav

2188 CE: Nararo Avequa and Zelga Avequa are born

Jurdon Madadh & Nyx Avequa

2188 CE: Lisell gets married to Haral Nyras 2188 CE: Calivia Sparatus is born

Renius Sparatus & Vivia Bonisis

2189 CE: Livia Nyras is born

Haral Nyras & Lisell Avequa

2189 CE: Renius Sparatus stabs Nedra Shepard 2189 CE: Raik Cagar and Tunar Abgius are having krogan babies 2190 CE: Octalea Sparatus is born

Renius Sparatus & Vivia Bonisis

2191 CE: Tachyus Nyras dies

Corpalis Syndrom

2196 CE: Sunip Malone dies

Old Age

2198 CE: Tokol dies

Unknown Causes

2200 CE: Anaya Kuik dies

Kepral Snydrom

2215 CE: Tibesius Suldonis dies

Heart failure

2216 CE: Haral Nyras dies

Corpalis Syndrom 

2217 CE: Nymeda Nyras is born

Haral Nyras & Lisell Avequa

2218 CE: Irelius gets clones into three people and all have different personalities

#timeline #mass effect #the other muses are from a friend #capeshifters

[ahyesreapersblog]

Small Info

(No about the characters. So people know a little thing about each of them without having to go through so many bio’s. They can after that anyway if they like the character. I will exclude canon characters because people usually know who they are. This means Councilor Sparatus, Lorik Qui’in, SAM, Macen Barro and Urdnot Wreav are not included.)

(I will try and keep it short but I want people on mobile also to be able to see it)

Karnesh

Karnesh is a krogan, born and raised on Korlus, his father is Okeer. He doesn’t have a clan name since he never went to Tuchanka in the first place. He is also aware that the Rite of Passage would likely kill him. He is highly afraid of asari and will avoid them whenever possible. He works for the Shadow Broker as some sort of agent and officially as a debt collector. He carries a Black Widow sniper rifle and loves desserts.

Availability: High

Clavius Tarxis/Irelius Draxas/Invictus

These three are all the same, Irelius is Clavius real name and he was born on Aephus the turian colony. He is a biotic actually and trained with the cabals but due to his genetic disorder he cannot feel any pain or anything that is nerve related. Resolting in him killing one of the instructors by accident. He fled to omega and met an asari woman who helped him. Irelius was 19 at the time or even younger.After a few years the whole cabal debackle resulted in him getting a mental disorder called Dissociative identity disorder. He changed to Clavius as a meaning of protecting himself. Clavius is a very stoic character and is with the Blue Suns for a long time. Until he gets tired of it for some reason (unknown at this point), and heads to the Citadel and becomes the councilor’s bodyguard.

Availability: High

Renius Sparatus

Renius is Irius father and a general in the Blackwatch, some people even say he leads it but that was never proven right. He is a so called Ghost Infiltrator and uses a sniper rifle. Being able to sit and or lie and wait for hours, he has trained his body to do certain things only when he wants to. Renius hates humans. He will never be nice to them unless they are military personal and high ranking one, then he will be at least respectful to them. But there is no worrier he will avoid humans like the plague anyway. His whole family died during the First Contact war and his wife died at the hands of the collectors one year before the Reapers arrive. After the Reaper War he loses his left arm.

Availability: Medium

Torana Sparatus

She is Irius sister and C-Sec officer. She works for C-Sec for a long time and is in the investigation sector together the likes of Chellic. During a walk home, she got attacked and stabbed, making her lose her baby during that time and unable to get pregnant or it is very hard for her to stay pregnant. Her body seems to reject that idea almost immediately. She is terms of characteristic like her father Renius minus the human hating part. She loves them and would even date them.

Availability: High

Jurdon Madadh

He is a very old krogan battlemaster. He is a bit against Wrex but he ísn’t a stupid krogan and helps him keep the clans who are against him in check. He kind of rules them but not in the way that Wrex rules Tuchanka after Saren was defeated. Madadh (pronounced Madack’) is a also a very tall krogan, standing over 8 feet tall. He has a lot of a tattoos on his body and a preference for lingerie on woman. He is also the grandpa of my other krogan Raik Cagar.

Availability: High

Ganar Drealav

He has a chainsaw and his mouth sewn shut. He is considered my more well evil krogan, although he can be kind of nice towards babies and children. Having a soft spot for them. But he will not change his views just because some child is making a fuss. He has a drone that talks for him. He is the leader of the Blood Pack on Omega after Garm dies.

Availability: Low

Raik Cagar

She is a female krogan medic, working in Huerta and the granddaughter of Jurdon Madadh and the adopted daughter of Karnesh. She is a so called defect in her body, resulting in too much melanin. This means she is a very dark krogan and even her crest is dark red. She is totally into women and nothing else. Making it harder for her to breed with male krogan. Which she did in the past for a couple of times.

Availability: Medium

Haral Nyras

He is a turian in the Blackwatch and also a general. He is the XO of Renius ship and his navigator. He and Renius are actually very close friends and Haral sometimes functions as some kind of uncle to Torana and Irius (especially when they were children). He has a rare genetic disease called Corpalis Syndrom in his family. One of his sisters died because of it, way before the whole Reaper War. Even before the First Contact War. He is a generally nice and friendly turian, charming his way most likely to bed with them. However he will kill in an instant should someone threaten the safety of Palaven. After the Reaper War he ends up in a wheelchair which does not diminish his character at all. He also has Corpalis Syndrom.

Availability: High

Maron Hinom alias Sur'Kesh Ilano Talat Hinom Maron 

He or she is a salarian formerly working for STG. Having a bit of a fallout resulting in one of the labs being exploded Maron flees STG and hides disguised as a man with the krogan Karnesh on his ship. He is a very cynic person and trusts few people especially newcomers get a very harsh treatment. If Maron trusts someone she is more comfortable being around them even in her true identity.

Availability: Low

Shaela’Riel Vas Tonbay Nar Tonbay

A quarian engineer and navigator of the flotilla. She stayed on her birthship after her pilgramage due to complication. Which resulted in her suit being almost torn to shreds. Shaela is constantly sick and cannot leave her suit without falling into a coma for a few weeks. Her immune system is compramised so much that it is hard for to even get healthy inside her own suit, which was made new after her pligramage. After the Reaper War she is hooked up with a geth prime making her a bit healthier than in the past.

Availability: Medium

Marius Nyras

He is Haral’s younger brother, well young he is 74 already. He was supposed to be dead past Reaper War but he survives. He is arranged married to someone but secretly a gay turian. After the Reaper War, he is almost half machine, his inner organs are replaced by machine and his right arm and left leg as well. Resulting in him havign constant pain due to the parts sometimes getting stiff and unmovable.

Availability: Medium

Tayus Draxas

He is Irelius younger brother and a mercenary collecting his money and killing people if they don’t pay him. He is not the most social guy in the world which makes the Draxas family very weird regardless. There is not much about him right now.

Availability: Low

Tachyus Nyras

He is the son of Haral and also someone who was Corpalis Syndrom. However his form is very aggressive resulting in him having this disease at the age of 19. He is unable to walk long distances, having to rely on a wheel chair. His speech pattern is also kind of screwed because of that. However he is not as many people would asume deeply depressed. He was at times but he is generally like Haral a very happy turian. Due to his speech pattern being so screwed he is actually good at singing.

Availability: High

Yaora V’Loar

An asari who works for the consort. Not much known about her right now. She comes from an asari and a turian, she lived on Omega for a time with her mum and her dad. Her died, being shot by a rival and her mother died during a raid on Cora’s Den. She is very facinated by art in any form, even sexual art.

Availbility: Medium

Yandra Nyras

Yandra  and Tachyus are twins, she doesn’t have however his disease. She is a very well mannered turian. She works in the turian embassy. Yandra has a soft spot for bad boys, but not like the ones trying to do criminal stuff. More like the ones who are a bit rebellious against society. She is very close to her twin brother and helps him out in the day to day life.

Availabilty: Medium

#relevant #muses #sorry for the length

[rawliverandcigarettes]

Characters: Original Salarian Characters

Tags: Set Before Canon | Salarian lineage | Salarian politics | References to economy | Implied/Ref Self-harm | Suicidal thoughts | Implied/Ref Incest | Angst | Possible Lystheni OC | POV First Person | Implied/Ref Character Death | Surk’esh | Futuristic celtic vibes | Also people eat jellyfishes

Summary:

In an economically unfavored seaside of Sur'kesh, a young salarian female discovers she might be sterile.

(A lot of love to @kiranwearsscienceblues and @sparatus for the beta-reading. <3) (this is my first complete published fics guys aaa I’m freaking out!!)

   The Leftovers

   What is worse? Being born investment, or leftover?

   I was born investment-coded. The day I rolled the remains of brown torn shell between my fingers, I understood the investment was wasted.

   “Show me,” my mother asked when I told her. I obeyed, because I was good and meant well for the clan's future. Of course I feared what the leaks between my legs might imply, of course I felt her heart beating down her narrow hips and echoing in mine. But back then, I had been fed that truth must prevail, ad nauseum. Since the day of my hatch her yellow worried eyes had followed me everywhere: she knew my insides by heart, and I survived on the belief I could hide nothing. So that day, if my mother's hands shook as she watched the organic failure of my body, I refused to see.

   An uncle came the next day, the one who succeeded. My mother had torn her brother off the hospital he worked at in the interior lands, so he could see me fast. It has been years since the last time I saw Veraji step foot in our house of dark stone. The consultation was sharp exchanges and mutters, and a silence that strangled me harder than I wanted it to. He smiled, insisting in whisper-prayers it could only be a result of food poisoning, or maybe a small internal failure due to my late coming of age. Maybe it could be corrected, with the right hormonal drug. “At least you had eggs,” he said. “You would have dried them off anyway, right?” I nodded, as if the choice would have been mine. His smile was too clinical, and males aren't trained to the art of lying as much as we females are. His hands didn't shake, but his eyes sought too hard for an escape road. He worried. Not for unborn eggs, but for me.

   That's okay, I blinded myself. As long as the Dalatrass isn't here, that's okay.

   When the consultation ended, my mother talked to me with fleeting eyes, she talked about nonsenses so she could hide her own terror. With bile in my mouth I replied, feigning non-consequence. It was her failure as much as it was mine. Betrayal of the genetic pool, a disease someone somewhere injected in our bones. Or maybe it was spontaneous. Maybe I was the first dead-end.

    I spent my hour of sleep eyes wide open, staring at fireflies caught in the storm, the roaring of the sea, flashes from the sky through the open walls, and my anguish kept mistaking lightning streaks for spaceships. When Olu sneaked into my quarters a bit later, he was soaked by the rain, his algae-patterned skin stern and angry enough for two. We hugged in silence, so I could soothe my mind in his dampened clothing. My other brothers were all on the boats, piling jellyfishes, hands green from the venomous burns they would grow immune to eventually, or so the old males said –those who were not paralyzed or drowned. Leftovers, the whole of them. I had forgotten to worry for their lives this stormy night, all caught up that I was in my own horizon of unknown.

    “That means nothing,” Olu repeated. “And even if it does, that means nothing about you.” We hatched minutes apart, and sometimes I hated that he could read me so easily. That night I didn't mind.

    “They're already negotiating my contract.” That was all I could say, all night long, with an unwavering voice. That, and “I'm sorry.”

    At dawn my uncle said he didn't have time to process the data from the analysis. The storm had pushed water into the country, and bodies flooded the clinics. The spaceport, too close to the shore, was a one-meter-deep swamp of outdated technology. Us, we lived inside the seaside cliffs above the crests of waves, and our ancestors had known worse storms before. Everything we owned –the few we could still call ours– was safe. All my brothers had made it back home, but the fishing load was drowned and already rotting. My mother was sick all day, so my aunt took over. She shot me hard looks as we unloaded the jellies, wading in their cut-off tentacles before they could dissolve, trudging their carcasses to the storage where we would dry them. Some of their green bulbous hats were discolored and smelled of chemicals. My big brothers cursed every time they found a trace of the disease, throwing them away with disgusted sniffs.

    “It's unfair,” Olu hissed. “The Union shouldn’t let that shit go unchecked.”

    “The Union doesn't care about us,” I said. I didn't know the full extent of what those words accused, but my mother chewed on them so often, with such bitterness, I supposed they must be true.

    “Then the Dalatrass. It's her job, isn't it?!” Olu hated her already for the reaction she didn't yet have about me. She didn't care enough about leftovers to stay for their imprints, so no buried conscience kept him from hating free. I said nothing, because I knew too much and those were female secrets, egg-bearers secrets, and in this gray-skied day it felt as if I had stolen them from my own blood.

    Night fell fast, Pranas long gone behind vaporous clouds, leaving our black cliffs cold and moist. My mother was still locked in her quarters, and I worked in the storage alongside my aunt, drying and salting still while the boys cooked the food and repaired the ships. We had a machine for the conservation work, but it sat rusted in the corner as a looming shadow, for we had no money left for routine checkups. Our hands were enough anyway, my mother used to say to cut off protest.

    “I've heard,” my aunt said after a day of muteness. Wind washed over me, and I hid the wave of fear under the sudden chill.

    “Nothing has been said yet.”

    “I knew it,” she muttered. “I knew she wasn't right. And the contract, you've thought about the contract?”

    “Nothing has been said yet.”

    “How could she do that to us, the Dalatrass?! I thought she wanted us to survive at any cost.” My aunt's fury had boiled under the surface for a long time. It was a secret to nobody she had been left thunderstruck when the Dalatrass picked her sister instead of her for the reproduction contract that gave birth to me. After all she was the oldest. For the Clan's sake she had kept still and efficient, her ocean-born features roughened by labor, yellow head high as she was cast back to leftover silence.

    “Nothing has been said yet,” I repeated without hearing myself speak. I left soon after, to see my mother locked in her room. I didn't want to. I had to.

    The door slid without resistance. My mother stood in her long reed dress, staring at a faded hologram she explored with dissociated hands. Her short horns glistened in the blue electronic wavers, and I thought she was beautiful in her panic. She startled upon hearing my footsteps, and shut the data. I had seen already. The family storyline, the tree of our circles. She sought the moment it had gone wrong. If it was her fault. If there was something to blame.

    “Are you still ill?” I asked, as mean as I was genuine.

    She didn't answer and wrapped her cold arms around my own bruised flesh.

    “Nothing has been said yet,” I murmured, to calm her and cut myself deeper.

    “Iorn,” she breathed. “I'm sorry.”

    My teeth chattered and I stopped talking, because at once the cut was hurting too much. My uncle had said nothing yet. Nothing had been said yet. They couldn't know for sure I was damaged.

    It was common unspoken knowledge some in our bloodline were born from internal arrangements. Back when our clan had nothing to offer, when the seaside was perceived as resource-less waste by salarians and strangers alike, pushing the bloodline further with a new daughter required mating from within. We didn't talk about that, we lied about our origins in the documents when our clan became relevant again, but we knew.

    I was born clean. I was investment. We had given land so our clan didn't die. My father was cultured and handsome, and he left for higher circles of academics in Sur'kesh after seeing me once when I was one out of curiosity. He had smiled and he had left, because his part was done. I had but blurred memories of his Dalatrass, for she had never bothered with me past the initial imprint. I was investment. I was their key to our land, and our way to the crumbs of their profits. This arrangement had washed our blood unexpectedly, and made me valuable to higher contracts. Maybe we would not wither off in the salt, we had dared to believe.

    We fished damaged jellyfishes from the deep-sea mining mistakes of my father's clan, for the sake of my damaged ability to offer our own another daughter.

    But nothing had been said yet. Later I washed myself with frozen water, chaffing hard, hoping to break my skin open, hoping I could bleed.

    Two days later, my uncle still said nothing. The interior lands were dried now.

    Olu peered my way too often. That night the boys would catch more of the migratory jellyfishes, and that night he would go along. Some enjoyed the dish deep in the lands. At least we were fed. I hated their paper-like texture, with habit and countenance. But it wasn't important. Jellyfishes was our lot in life, in this massive world of alien stars I had only seen in movies and pictures. Those who tried to join the feverish activity of foreign concerns, they scraped the sea with chemicals so they could stand a chance at survival and relevance. We didn't, and I couldn't tell if it was by pride or poverty.

    My mother stood behind me, fragile like pottery that had already broke once.

    “The Dalatrass is coming,” she announced to me. Her voice was strangled with resignation. I only shivered, because I didn't want Olu to get angry before leaving to the shore. The fear gnawed at my guts a bit more each day, legs colder and colder, but I didn't know what I feared, and I didn't dare to ask.

    “She'll be here tomorrow,” she insisted. Maybe she wanted me to look distressed, so she could have an external reason to feel guilty. “She'll talk to Veraji, for the data.”

    “It will rain tonight”, I said, staring at the burdened sky without a blink. “I don't think the boys should go.”

    “Veraji means well, he always has,” my mother muttered. “He likes you a lot.”

    “Mother, you could stop them from going.”

    She swept the first raindrop off her narrow jaw. “Your aunt doesn't think we have enough to last the rain season.”

    “Then she should stop them.”

    “She goes along tonight.”

    I nodded emptily.

    With the night came another storm. Our walls of stone vibrated from the crashes of waves. I stood on the balcony, veils off, unable to see the green dots of the ships, wishing the howls of wind could tear me off my feet and plunge me in the dark ocean below. When my mother came to find me, my viridian skin felt liquid.

    “Olu,” she said.

    I swallowed, holding back the need to scream, and followed her in the uneven corridors to the storage.

    His skull was cracked. His whole face was enrolled in white fabric, safe for his mouth, and he laid on his side. The fabric was soaked green. They had lifted the load, and an ocean crest swung the reward for their work right to his head. Blood poured still. I was no stranger to the hardships of fishing, to blood, to crushed legs and drowned bodies. But with Olu it was different. Maybe I went crazy that night. Every memory of my hands trying to save his life are crystal clear in my mind. How I pushed help away. How hard I breathed, how cold my body was. How my brothers told me to do things I ignored, how many of them were hurt too, how my aunt said nothing.

    I kept my brother alive until my uncle arrived, two hours later. He had to tear me off, and he apologized. I screamed at him. Told him to shut up, to SHUT UP. My mother took my shoulders and made me leave the room. I walked until I couldn't. I leaned and fell against the wall, shivering, sick maybe. Biting my fist, I wished I knew how to cry the way aliens wept.

    I fainted, or maybe sleep deprivation knocked me off.

    I awoke in one of the boys' bed, and Veraji looked my way, standing near. We stared at each other a long time before he finally spoke.

    “I won't tell them,” he said.

    “How is Olu?”

    “Alive. He needs specialized medical attention. The Dalatrass arrives soon, if the spaceport is in any state of welcoming her. I will plead for his transfer.”

    “She won't transfer him. I know she won't.” My weak body wanted to burn the sea, the jellyfishes, the alien worlds that killed us slowly.

    “Iorn, I won't tell them.”

    “They need to know.” My throat was harsh, punishing me for the rain, the screams, the deathwishes. “It's our future we're talking about.”

    “Our future, yes. Not yours.”

    My eyes drilled the engraved black ceiling. “I'm sorry I told you to shut up.”

    “Shut up Iorn.”

    My head pounded in blurs, and I grinned. Only then did I realize he had been holding my fingers, gently, like breeze.

    “Is there anything I can do?” I murmured.

    He kept still. “Don't blame yourself, please. Biology doesn't care about our feelings. We will find a way, we always did.”

    “Like breeding amongst ourselves?”

    He let go of my hand. “Better ways. Profitable ones. We won't starve here.”

    “What better ways?”

    The wind still whorled outside from yesterday’s storm. “Your aunt,” he dared to mutter. I busted into laughter, for irony's sake, and the sound it made resonated without resistance long, long after I stopped, deep inside myself.

    The spaceport had been ready this time, the flood contained far from its grounds. It was midday when the Dalatrass stepped inside our home. The post-storm fog curtained her shuttle, and tatters of rain poured over it at the weather's whims. She was a tall figure, everything elongated –nostrils, and thin lips, and fingers that seemed to never end, and sharp gray eyes that saw beyond what you wanted to show. She was too old to be this tall, too wrinkled to stand, too discolored to be anything but a spirit. I bowed, thumbs intertwined, hands flats on my crumpled clothes I had no time to replace. I bowed low, refusing to meet her eyes. She didn't move until I had no choice but get straight again and meet them. She blinked once.

    “Dalatrass, our clan needs all the help we can get,” I said. “Olu needs you.”

    She nodded, and stepped away. I watched the left half of her naked back, pictured her arm under the sleeve. The lines, diligently traced inside her flesh at each fallen soul. A lot of us died of unnatural death. The patterns of self-inflicted pains told everything of what we endured, and just by looking at her ice-carved demeanor I could sense the unspoken weight on her shoulders. I told myself I never asked for this weight, so in a way I was losing nothing. And nothing had been said yet. Not aloud.

    As she remained with my mother and Olu's broken body, the rest of us waited behind. I wished my breath would stop to quiver.

    Veraji was called in, and so was I. My aunt entered alongside without invitation.

    My mother looked at nothing. The Dalatrass scraped each of us with her stare, leaving guilt behind. Already part of me wanted to beg for his life, or for mine. I bit my tongue and disconnected body from mind. So I would keep still. A Dalatrass keeps still, always. Nothing had been said yet. Maybe I could still be used somehow.

    “Mother,” Veraji said. “Olu needs a transfer to the inner lands. Fast. Or else he won't make it.”

     “We don't have that sort of money,” my aunt trembled. “You know we can't afford that.”

    “I can pay for it,” Veraji insisted.

    “If you pay for him, you can't pay for the rest of us.” My aunt scratched her mid-horns the way she did when she was nervous. In her wide open eyes I could see Olu's skull being fractured over and over. I hoped the memory would burn her mind if he died.

    “Mother, you have the authority on resources here,” Veraji sniffed, lips twitching. “Or maybe you'll have an idea. A contract project. A way to reach outerspace banks.”

    “What about the reproduction contract, Mother?” My aunt's haunted eyes were on my face, devouring me whole in their gleam. “What about it?”

    My mother held a wince, and the Dalatrass' stare pierced me through. Drowning in her eyes I thought of the storm, how the wind had smashed my skin, how the salt had cut me, how the sea had howled in my stead, and how I wished I could faint again.

    “Veraji?” My aunt muttered. “She's sterile isn't she?”

    White noise, or maybe it was the waves outside.

    “The data is not processed yet,” he said.

    Her yellow mouth twitched.

    “Veraji, Veraji. You don’t know how to lie.”

    “The data is not processed yet,” he said.

    “She could have saved Olu, right Mother?” My aunt’s words rung in my head, as if it was empty. “But it's like with krogan offspring. Her eggs are rotten, I've seen them.”

    “The data is not processed yet,” he said.

    My head pounded faraway, and the Dalatrass' eyes squinted. She stared at me, for a very long time.

    “I see,” she croaked.

   They all left. I was left alone in the storage, in charge of checking if Olu was doing well. He was. What else could he be doing but do well, or die. I stared at his broken face, detailing how he didn't look like himself anymore. His skin, lime and translucent, like a jellyfish. The smell of them was everywhere, their wetness a deposit on every surface, and I wanted to scratch them off the planet. Olu was so peaceful when he had never been anything but angry. Looking at him made me ill with resent. I think I hit my forehead against the wall, at least twice, the second time wishing I could split my skull as well.

    I stayed there until sunset, alone with some half-corpse I loved. My mother came back and I was sitting on the ground, counting every white dot on the black stone in case I missed one every other time I did that in my life. 8796.

    “Iorn.”

    I swept my dry eyes, wishing they would moisten more.

    “I'm watching over him now. Go to sleep.”

    “It's fine.”

    Silence.

    “I don't want to lose you. Please forgive me.”

    It could have been wind, or my own mind.

    I clenched my teeth, hard, and pretended I didn't hear. I left the room pretending I wasn't running. In my quarters I roamed the room with impossible terror. Everything I tried holding fell and cracked. Maybe I was throwing them. Maybe I whimpered in my hands, nauseated by my own body, that foreign lump of flesh and cartilage and bones, that body that would force me to witness my failure until the end.

    They came for me late at night. The Dalatrass, my aunt, my mother. Three shadows in my room, unavoidable.

    “Come with us,” said the unfamiliar croaking voice.

    I stood still. The storm of fear narrowed to a single point deep in my throat, and a pulse that fought against myself. Gills caught in a hook, yet I breathed still.

    “Where is Veraji?” I asked. “Where is Olu?”

    “Veraji left for the clinic.” The voice floated –disembodied. “Olu will live, if you come with us.”

    “What if I don't?”

    “Olu dies, and that's your fault.”

    “You don't care if he dies,” I said.

    The Dalatrass was immobile, a monolith of strength I wished I had. She paused, and the darkness hid all of their expressions from me.

    “Will I die if I follow you?”

    The rain poured on the stone through the open walls. They would not speak anymore. I thought of jumping from the balcony, out of spite. My mother stared at me, through the night I knew she did, and she was shaking. Something in me broke. I could not take two of her children away that night.

    I wanted to fall at her feet. Beg her. Beg her to do anything. Beg her for my life. I followed them instead. My shoulders shook, sob-like, yet I couldn't make a sound.

    We walked in the corridors, then outside. Rain poured over us, heavy and cluttered. Beneath our soles the dampened foam stuck to the ground still, and the tortured bushes remained unbroken. Clouds leaned on us as we entered the Dalatrass' shuttle and ascended into them. Soon the windows showed nothing but rags of blackness.

    “I didn't say goodbye to the boys,” I muttered.

    The Dalatrass piloted through the sky. My aunt massaged her horns. My mother stared at the floor, expressionless. There was a bag against the wall, a black bag I had never seen before.

    “Mom.” My voice broke, but that didn't snap her back here, with me.

    We landed on the spaceport's mud and could only hear wind. The rain had kept to the coast. We stepped outside, in the dark. For some time it was only cold.

    Then I saw the spaceship. There was moss over it, but it was lit, fired to life, reactors a blue fire. The heat struck me first, and then smells of burnt grass and foreign gas. There was people within its open doors. I shivered to see aliens amongst the passengers, aliens I had never seen before for real. I turned to my family, my clan, and my mother stepped towards me with the bag in her feeble arms. She gave it to me. Her yellow eyes stared deep inside mine.

    “Leave,” she said. “Don't come back,” she said. “Don't come back alive.”

   The hook rived off my lungs. They tore. Paper-like.

   My first thought was that Olu would die. They had lied to me. They couldn't afford to fly me off and save his life. I was dirty. He was leftover.

   He was a cost worth spending.

   What convinced Veraji I wondered then. I stared at my aunt, and she refused to hold my empty eyes. It was the rotten blood. If people knew about it, they would never risk another contract with our clan. What if they learned about the inbreeding. The clan couldn’t afford to loose the illusion of a clean genome. Outsiders would not risk blood, risk investment, not with the alien worlds pressuring them to measure up or disappear. There was still her, my aunt. No matter how she had come to life, what had kept her from being the Dalatrass' investment back then.

   The Dalatrass held my stare. It was her call, that I was to disappear. I gave up hating her before even trying. She blinked, and there was no faltering in her incised flesh. Would she slit another scar for me? I still wonder. Sometimes it keeps me up at night.

   My eyes fell back on my mother, my meek mother that I loved deeply, still, beautiful in her indecent acceptance of loss. I hope she's still alive. I hope she survived killing me.

   I walked to the ship without another word. Or another stare to the muddy mist. No need. They would haunt me long enough. The mist, the storm. Them.

   I needed time to mourn my brother. I needed time to mourn myself.

   The ship flew off fast and swift, past the wind and past the rain. The sky was black, dotted with stars and satellites. Alien worlds I had never wished to see.

   We exited the atmosphere, and gravity let go of me. Sur'kesh laid beneath, glowing blue, the ground of my birth, the ground that saw me die.

   I was born investment.

   But investment or not, we are leftovers all the same.

#Mass Effect #fanfiction #writing #salarian oc #oneshot #salarians #the leftovers #nameless oneshot #GUYS I have published a thing!! #I am terrified!! #my writing

[ahyesreaperscouncilor]

Little Facts About Each Muse

sorry for length, well read more maybe.

Haral Nyras

He was called pretty turian in his past, due to the fact that he was for turian standards extremely good looking. And also tall with 6′9″. However it made applying to jobs harder since people thought he was stupid.

He has Corpalis Syndrome.

He is currently 78 years old.

He was in the Black Watch as a navigator but retired after the Reaper War (in Andromeda AU he retired before going to Andromeda)

He had three siblings but they all died.

He has a daughter called Silia. And is also kind of a caretaker to Camilea Octatus.

He has a huge daddy kink (He is the daddy btw xD)

Out of all my muses Haral and Clavius are the kinkiest.

He sits in a wheel chair because his legs got crushed during the Reaper War.

Karnesh

He is the son of Okeer and some unknown female.

He is sterile and the genophage cure is totally useless to him.

He has a weird psychologic behaviour to the point of being unable to feel strong emotions.

He was raised on Korlus and never went to Tuchanka hence no clan name.

He is scared to death by Asari.

He uses sniper rifles (especially a black widow).

He likes all kinds of deserts.

Clavius Tarxis / Irelius Draxas

Irelius is Clavius real name.

Clavius has CIPA Syndrome the inability to feel any pain, cold, heat and other nerve related things.

He has severe PTSD due to his time in the Cabals, leaving especially Irelius paranoid and scared when he comes out.

He has a daughter with Camilea Octatus despite beng gay (He tends to make out with women when he gets drunk)

He has an implant but never uses his biotics.

He likes men that are way younger than him (meaning between 20 and 30)

He is very dominant but always for the pleasure of his partners.

Renius Sparatus

He is racist against humans and doesn’t hide it (although he respects military personal such as Anderson, Hackett and maybe even Shepard)

His whole family died around the Relay314 Incident.

After the Reaper War he is basically half robot.

He has to work all the time, even worse than Irius sometimes.

He is not somone to commit easily especially in the main verse.

He comes from the turian colony Invictus.

Torana Sparatus

C-Sec wasn’t actually her first choice in work.

She has big troubles getting pregnant which she doesn’t see as a problem.

She is the sister of the councilor and daughter of Renius.

She comes more after her father.

She has dated a krogan once and said it was kind of interesting.

Sometimes people want her to dominate them which she actually does (sometimes)

She was once trained to become a spectre but stopped because she didn’t want to be under her brother (in a sense that he had control over her)

Jurdon Madadh

He is nearly 1400 years old.

He is a Battlemaster.

He likes lingerie on women (especially asari,humans and sometimes even turians if it is made right)

Unless you are an obvious asshole, he will like you.

He is quiet literally a grandpa.

He is currently the tallest muse I have with 8′3″

His name is pronounced Madack. It is scottish-gaelic meaning Dog.

Ganar Drealav

He is the leader of the Blood Pack after the Reaper because seriously Vorcha?

He is the believed brother of Garm (younger or older is unknown also it is not known if they are brood brothers like Wreav and Wrex)

He has a chainsaw which he never parted with.

Before being forced off Omega he had a VI which would speak for him.

He also had his mouth stitched together but can remove them and can talk.

He is evil plain and simple but is not likely to harm children.

Raik Cagar

She is gay but has children due to krogan and such stuff. But it is only business for her.

She is one the few krogan medics.

She is the granddaughter of Madadh. She is also the adoptive daughter of Karnesh.

She has melanism which makes her skin appear dark and also her crest is darker.

She is usally very calm but when you ignore her medical advice she can get nasty (not in the sense of hurting people)

Maron Hinom

He is actually a she and under disguise.

Maron was part of the STG before she blew up a research station.

She dies after the Reaper War (but is alive before and also during the war)

She is the bondmate of Karnesh.

Most of the time Maron is wearing a tactical cloak.

If she doesn’t know someone she is very distant to the point of being extremely rude.

Shaela’Riel vas Tonbay

Her suit was severly punctured and shredded during pilgramage which forced her to return to her birthship which is why Shaela is called vas Tonbay nar Tonbay.

She can never get naked without getting almost into a coma.

After the Reaper War she has a Geth Prime linked into her suit which makes it possible for her to at least get out into the street.

#relevant #haral things #renius things #clavius things #torana things #madadh thngs #cagar things #drealav things #shaela things #maron things #karnesh things

[sparatus]

Alone, betrayal, midnight for Calvetana and Verritana yes I’m aware it’s going to hurt

oh you cunt

[oc asks: not-so-nice edition]

oops oops oops this has to go under a cut i got Emotional™

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

calvetana is used to being alone. she's out on the ocean for long hours, sometimes with a full crew on a large ship, sometimes just a couple on her little personal boat. doesn't mean she likes it, of course - she likes her men well enough, and some of them she considers family in their own right, but they're not her virian, they're not her girls or her sister or any of her many grandkids (well, okay, one of them is, but when they're working ziphian is just another subordinate, and she's just his captain and vzgliy, and he understands that). she loves her men, as much as any captain does, but when she's out at sea, she still longs for a warm hearth and her favorite chair next to virian's and a downy chick fighting to climb into her lap.

with such a big family, though, and so many mariners around her and looking up to her, she's very rarely truly alone. she doesn't like to think about what it would be like, especially because in her mind, to be well and truly alone would be to lose verritana, her twin, who's been there since the very beginning and knows her as completely as any turian can. virian was her childhood best friend, and he comes close to verri in her heart, but the sylidros twins used to claim they were two halves of one whole - to calvetana, no matter who else is still alive with her on that day, losing her twin will be the day she's left alone on the wrong side of the veil.

now, on the flip side, verritana herself - she agrees, there'll be no loss quite as bad as losing her sister, and neither one wants to think about how white in the face they're both becoming these days, how stiff their joints are in the morning and how hard it's getting to recall the old days, but she suspects her outliving cal will be worse than the other way around. you see, cal at least still has her virian, still has the husband who's made her so happy for so many years and still patiently waits every day for the sea to bring his wife safely home. verri, though... well. her jaxiter says she just hasn't been the same since kana died.

she still has her boys, sure, and jaxiter's husband, and their whole brood. and there's the animals, of course, she helped birth half the herd, and smoky's been coming in to keep her company now. but her barcidia... bari brought a certain light to the house, a life and joy that just isn't there anymore. it's amazing, she'll tell you, how the big farmhouse can be nearly full yet still feel so very empty.

very quietly, if you ask a certain way, jaxiter will admit he thinks he knows which sister will outlive the other. he's not looking forward to how much emptier the farmhouse is going to feel, but he can hear his kadnön talking to kana's spirit when she thinks nobody else is around. he just wants her to be at peace.

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

thankfully, neither sister has really had to deal with too much untrustworthiness in their lines of work, other than the occasional sketchy government official, but calvetana insists they're not to be trusted in the first place, so that might not count. verritana doesn't deal with others too much, being more focused on the animals than on anything social, and bari (and then jaxiter) was the one who did all the talking anyway. calvetana, meanwhile, had the benefit of learning her trade at her mother senvia's hip, and senvia candirinus didn't take any shit. the candirinuses are old sea-blood in tiirtias, anyway, and nobody wanted to take their chances with them or their very sharp, very well-aimed harpoons.

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

herders and fishers in tiirtias both play a major role in keeping the island fed, and both twins have had their fair share of guilt and fear and anxiety about whether or not their loved ones will have enough food to survive the winter. calvetana especially has fought with guilt about giving her daughters and grandchildren starvation snacks - marrow cakes heavy with extra bits to keep their bellies full all day, stuffed hooves to gnaw their way through so they'll be distracted until dinner. her husband is a neurologist, sure, and the empire won't let them starve, and there's always imports to lean on when the prey isn't running well, and the empire is communist, they won't be left to die. but there's a matter of pride to it, something shameful in her mind she can't shake. what kind of vzgliy does it make her, what kind of fisher, what kind of mother, that she can't give her family all the food they want without having to worry about whether or not there'll be enough for dinner later? she knows it's not fully rational, and spirits know virian has never complained an ounce when they've had to go to market or ask family or neighbors for food to spare, but it still makes her heart heavy with shame and keeps her up at night during the lean times.

verritana has slightly more pressing worries. she fears for her sister, going out on the open sea every day, especially during storm season. the blizzards coming off the xiy mnesi are famously violent and dangerous, and verritana lives in terror of the day the sea claims her sister once and for all. it gets worse when her grandsons start joining her on the boat, even just for day trips. she also worries for her own brood, when they go out hunting in the barrens, especially after ierian's accident with the zotrū'dūruu. bari was her calming goat, a lot of nights.

and of course, there's the dead, the countless spirits of the lost ranging all about them, etched permanently into tiirtias's landscape as firmly as the rocks and the permafrost. the tundra remembers the war, and the old clans are the keepers of that memory. but the dead won't bother you, really, if you know how to talk to them.

#press conference #korblez #ierian's ocs #sparatus family #sparatus clan #calvetana sparatus #verritana sylidros

[vikktus]

headcanon 003.

first and foremost, i want to remind everyone reading this that this is only hypothesis, and based on my own reasoning and/or headcanon. bioware has clearly shown no interest in having set-in-stone regulations for facial markings, or they do have them but don’t want to share. regardless, my obsessive mind wants to have some type of order to their culture, so here we are! If there’s anything you’d like to discuss, especially something that seems to contradict please message me! i would love to talk about my sweet bird lizard children. with that over with, i’ll get into it. The TL;DR is just below, in case this isn’t something you’d want to really spend 5 minutes reading about, but are curious. thank you for reading !

TL;DR things that influence facial markings in turian society

family- shape

place of birth/”ethnicity”/colony where family is from- color

social status- color and/or shape

WHY DO TURIANS HAVE FACIAL MARKINGS? so this first section goes all the way back to the unification wars in the way-way back of turian history. to understand their markings at all, one needs to know at least this little tid-bit of turian history! for much of their early, civilized history, turians existed in small clusters, and as one could assume in close familial groups. they lived on colonies farthest from palaven, and therefore farthest from the hierarchy  (  the governing body of the turians  )  and essentially out of their control. these colonies were led by local chieftans and, as time went, animosity between colonies became increasingly common. turians began wearing facial markings to differentiate themselves from each other.1 this is where the hierarchy decided to simply not intervene at all. they allowed the colonies to slowly wear each other down, and they did, for years. if you’re curious as to who fought, there is a list here !

once there were less than a dozen factions still willing to fight, the hierarchy stepped in. like the romans conquering, the turian government swooped in and took control, and the ambiguous “chieftans” were renewed in their alliance to the government. “to this day, most turians still wear the facial markings of their home colonies.”1

so, turians have facial markings for the same reason that we have college sweatshirts and hats even after we graduate: pride in their history. we can assume that most, if not all of turian markings can be associated with their place of birth, or their family's original home. I like to think about it as a way to distinguish different “ethnicities” from each other.

WHAT ARE THE MARKINGS MADE OF? the human war hero john grissom describes palaven as such: “the only thing on this planet that isn't silver are the turians. it's all too clear they're made of steel." an asari diplomat describes it as “a silver world of fortresses and fire.” from these two observations, we can safely assume that palaven is not particularly colorful, and contains a soil most likely made up of more precious metals than anyone on earth would like. the markings are most likely some type of permanent paint, perhaps made from these common minerals found on palaven.  (  similar to how we would make paint from colorful rocks like hematite, limonite, kaolinite, glauconite ) it is essentially, the turian version of a “tattoo”. i’d like to point out that it’s clear that markings are not hereditary.  (  e.g. vetra and sid  /  garrus and his father  )  they are painted on at some point during a turian’s early life, and are most likely can change if someone’s life status changes.

THE TERM BAREFACED AND ITS SOCIAL CONNOTATIONS almost anywhere i’ve looked, the term “barefaced” comes up a lot in regards to facial markings. “the lack of facial markings is looked down upon in turian society; the turian term "barefaced" refers to one who is beguiling or not to be trusted. it is also a slang term for politicians.” ‘barefaced’ is clearly a slur of some kind, and it’s quite clear why. without facial markings, you aren’t really a part of a family  (  or a group, in regards to smugglers/outcasts  )  turians live in a very family-oriented society, and without your familial markings, you are truly and fully an outcast. In regards to it being slang for a politicians, i can assume it has one or two meanings. of course it is an insult  (  something not truly uncommon if you’re in a political office  )  but there is clear context based on the unification wars. the hierarchy itself stepped in to stop any fighting between smaller clans, where facial markings were more present. Perhaps since the turian colonists dislikes the hierarchy so much, the term “barefaced” became associated with the original politicians who stopped the unification wars. since then  (  using both garrus and adrien as an example  )  palaven families seems to have developed their own markings.

you can see a small list of ‘barefaced’ turians from ME and ME2 here !

From here on out, this is a lot of speculation and hypothesis!

FAMILIAL MARKINGS ! as i’ve said previously, it can be assumed that turians live in singular groups of one family or a group of close-knit families. from what we’ve been shown, families either have the exact same markings  (  adrien and tarquin  )  or similar markings  (  garrus and his father. 1  /  2  ) this of course goes back to the idea that people from the same original colonies wore similar markings. i think it’s safe to assume that turians are able to tell each other if they are related or not via facial markings. another example is the kandros’s clearly, nyreen  (  and this unnamed cousin  )  are no longer a part of the family, thanks to their choice of . . . occupation.  (  though i will get into nyreen and other “ outcasts “ in turian society later.  )  facial markings are a sign of being  “  accepted  “  , a part of a family, something looked upon as being the norm and  “  positive  “  in turian society. without facial markings, or with a certain type of facial markings, you are below the bottom of the social class.

SOCIAL CLASS ! from what we’ve seen, the higher the social class of the individual, the more facial markings they seem to have. the two turian councillor sparatus and quentius both have facial markings covering their whole face. other examples include general corinthus and nihlus kryik. everyone’s favorite primarch adrien victus is also an example of this. almost his entire face, as well as his crest. in this case there is a vice-versa. the less markings you have, the lower your social  “  rank.  “  examples include, vetra nyx, sidera nyx, and of course everyone’s favorite gay mercenary nyreen kandros ! they all have limited facial markings, and all of them are considered outcasts among the hierarchy. in andromeda, of course, a lot of turians came to escape the hierarchy and the idea of social ranking, which makes sense, all things considering. vetra and sid lived the life of a smuggler and never attended the mandatory boot camp for all turians at age 15. nyreen kandros left the family to  “  go pirate  “  on omega, according to her cousin tiran, obviously she’s no longer welcome in the family. we could assume that because kandros left as well  (  looking for his “ adventure “  )  that he also changed his markings to match his new  “  lifestyle.  “

this is simply theory, but i propose that turian smugglers or pirates or individuals simply not considering a “ traditional ” part of society have markings that go across or around the eyes and the eyes only. sid and vetra are the clearest example of this, thought nyreen also could be considered as one. color as well seems to play a part in the social hierarchy. from what we’ve seen  (  see the previous three examples  )  turian markings are often white, peach-ish, silver, or blue. red is worn by both sid and nyreen, and vetra is the only one known to have purple markings. my best assumption is that the more brightly colored, the farther outside the hierarchy the individual lives.

PLACE OF BIRTH/”ETHNICITY” ! finally i can reference canon again! like i quoted earlier, after the unification wars “most turians still wear the facial markings of their home colonies.” of course the turian population, because it is a galaxy-faring race it has a total “canon” population  (  counting palaven and all the listed colonies in canon  )  of 22 trillion people, though most likely more, has countless family groups and colonies. in the past, specifically just after the unification wars, we know that there were very few colonies left. this could result in the similar markings between turians thought to be completely different: they’re from the same colony! though i think that familial markings are more prominent than the colony ones, it must have some type of significance.

FACTORS THAT MAY CHANGE AN INDIVIDUAL’S MARKINGS

CHANGE IN STATUS: example: nyreen kandros ! she’s known to had “ abandoned “ her family in favor of another life on omega. it’s safe to assume she changed her facial markings because she does not have matching markings as her cousin, kandros does.

MARRIAGE: this is a personal headcanon of mine, and i would like to simply put it out there as an idea. for turians, marriage is truly a union. unlike humanity, who for much of their history regarded women as second-rate and ‘property’ of men, there is no social difference between males & females in turian society. you ‘worth’ in society is determined by your military prowess, not your genitalia. when turians marry, they will often redo their facial markings so that it is a combination of the two markings. some may completely change their markings to match their partners’.

MORE TBA 

thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed reading my RIDICULOUS LONG headcanon post! I hope you like it, and i hope i don’t sound too crazy lmao !! here are a couple good links if you wanna see more about facial markings

http://gaming.wikia.com/wiki/Turians:_The_Unification_War

http://masseffect.livejournal.com/598948.html#2t

http://masseffect.answers.wikia.com/wiki/How_does_the_turian_face_paint_system_work

#‘ ° • ⚜ — ☾ HEADCANONS — recall that the mighty have fallen ; recall that the mighty are remembered #turian culture #YODELS

[sparatus]

It’s Blursday!! 🖤💜

You’ve given your characters the dreaded IKEA divorcemaker: the LIATORP TV storage combination. Obviously, this is no two-man job; no, with its 30+ page instruction manual, we’ve got all hands on deck for this one!

Who’s:

Tossing the instructions aside and diving straight in

Actually reading the instructions and making sure they have all the parts and tools

Gets the “most important job”: holding the hammer until it’s needed and not touching ANYTHING ELSE OH MY GOD

Providing snacks, drinks, moral support, and has a therapist on speed dial

Just here to take directions

Already has the bookshelf built, was this supposed to be hard?

AH. HELL. let's see i did an amalgam last week so let's do. the sparatus clan specifically :)

coracia's tossing the instructions. fuck it, she's an ophthalmologist, she went to medical school, she can put together a spirits-forsaken big cabinet thing.

ierian immediately fishes the instructions back out and sits down to read them and check inventory. he knows how this goes by now. he's known his big sister all his life and he knows the cussing will start in about 3.8 minutes so he's gonna be ready for it. callie, loyal daddy's girl that she is, comes over to help count and sort, she LOVES counting and sorting.

verres is given the hammer. not because he's particularly bad at DIY, but because his dad and his aunt are now locked in the age-old deathmatch of Who Is The Superior Sibling, and help from the big strong (good with his hands, knows how to read pictographs) army officer is not desired. he thinks it's funny, for his part, and hangs out on the couch entertaining his nephews.

teia and amulitus (cori's husband) are in the kitchen, watching from the safety of the bar. mully brought honey treats and teia's baking some brownies or something. theoretically, they're both good at putting flat-pack furniture together, but their respective spouses have gotten involved, so now they get to sit back with some nice mead and watch from a safe distance. they're taking bets.

cor's son daxaeus is just here to take instructions, aunt teia said there'd be brownies?

and then areus just calmly builds it himself while his dad and aunt are bickering. his siblings and cousin think this is hilarious and help him with the lifting and holding things in place while he screws them in. he's halfway done by the time ierian and cor notice, and they very sheepishly come help and don't speak about their bickering. teia and mully soothe their wounded egos with snacks and promises not to tell their mom.

(bonus: the kids make no such promises. meana won't give up the snitch. both of her grown-ass children in their 70s get baby books about getting along with others and teamwork for solstice.)

im wheezing thank you!!

#ierian's ocs #sparatus clan #blorbo blursday

[sparatus]

OC alphabet soup ask - do you have an OC for C?

YESSSSS i have. a lot for C actually thx bb ily!!

OC Alphabet Soup

ok i have Quite A Few for C but the first two to come to mind are calvetorin and calvetana, i had a bad day and need my morally gray harpoon grandma don't get to feature calvetana nearly as often as callie so let's do her

calvetana sparatus is the maternal grandmother of cnclr ierian sparatus. she's roughly 150 by the time of me1 and retired, but in her heyday she was a fisher and the leader of the polar mariners' union in the city of acalin in the palavenian north pole continent of tiirtias. the mariners are uhhh very similar to the teamsters, both in terms of their importance to the city staying alive and in (very well-deserved!) reputation for having the cops and government by the balls, and calvetana lived up to it. she actually has 3 teeth taken from the mouth of the shitty ex who scarred her sweet shy grandson's face, obtained by having her men beat the shit out of him and then having him pull them out of his own mouth and present them to her, because you simply Do Not Fuck With Vzgliy or her clan. she has a harpoon that she uses as a walking stick. everyone on that side of the city has either seen her spin it around and use it, or knows somebody who has.

after she retired, her grandson ziphian (sparky's first cousin, hilariously the one cousin born just a few months after him who he was so close to people asked if they were twins for years) took her place, and she took up a spot by the fire in the locals-only tavern by the docks that also doubles as the union's hq, where she spends her time playing games with her elderly friends, swapping stories... and continuing to scare the piss out of everyone, because she's still a gruff old fisher, retired or no, and she's also an absolute mountain of a woman who can pick up her grandson in one hand ("keeps 'im humble"). she's just kinda un-fuck-with-able and the entire district respects her accordingly.

she's also very fond of ierian, he's her little buddy, he named his only daughter calvetorin for her and she cried about it for days.

#press conference #dandenbo #sparatus family #calvetana sparatus #AND CALLIE BARELY SURVIVED INFANCY BY THE SKIN OF HER TEETH ADDING MORE EMOTIONAL WEIGHT TO BEING NAMED FOR HER POWERHOUSE GREAT-GRANDMA--- #utterly deranged about the sparatus clan so sorry you had to find out this way