#Cato Fedorian

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Sentinel: Chapter 7

Eros:

It smelled of smoke and rain inside the Temple. Scents associated with grief and sadness for most turians, for Eros they brought forth a feeling of spiritual safety and order. It was the smell of Palavenian pine when it burned on the pyres for the dead. The smoke guided the recently freed Spirit from the mortal coil to the less tangible afterlife and to the collective Spirit of Palaven where all things became whole. 

He loosened his grip on Ignatius’ hand as they passed together over the stone threshold and the smoke stung his eyes. But inside the Temple the weight of his grief eased, the burden lifted by the Spirits that always lingered here. Past Valluvian priests like himself, those that had witnessed Spirits or simply felt them more strongly than the average turian, they stayed within the Temple to help the transition of new Spirits and to bring what comfort they could to the living. Eros had always felt weightless here, like he was floating, like he was a Spirit himself. It was foolish, Eros knew, but it made him smile.

Ignatius smiled softly down at him. His mate wasn’t as religious a man as he was but he understood the soul’s call for it and for that Eros was grateful. He was grateful the Spirits had led Ignatius to him. If the Blackwatch hadn’t arrived on that colony when they had, Eros was certain he would have perished with the rest of his unit. He had been dying after an incendiary round had pierced his hardsuit. After it had burned through all the man-made material and begun to burn through him, Eros had begged the Spirits for any mercy from the agony. Even death if it meant the pain would stop. They had sent him a giant in matte black armor.

That Ignatius had stayed for more than just his rescue had been surprising but throughout his recovery, Eros had realized the Spirits had brought him into Ignatius’ life as much as the other way around. Blackwatch assignments had turned him world weary and cynical and finding Eros had restored his purpose to something more than just that of a skilled combatant. Support, companionship and then love had followed close behind.

Eros gave his hand a squeeze and returned that warm smile. Together they found Terronos’ alter and knelt before it. Eros folded his dark blue robes beneath himself and into his lap, then he lowered his head and closed his eyes. He didn’t need the image projected on the wall to see the face of his fallen friend, it was still clear in his mind’s eye. Square features and green star-burst markings that framed sharp golden eyes above a slow smile that had begun to droop on one side as the corpalis syndrome had arrived with its first signs... Shaking hands had followed and when Terronos had been unable to hold things without noticeable difficulty, they had known something was wrong. Loss of dexterity wasn’t uncommon with advancing age, nor were fading memories, but the inability to form new memories, to lose entire conversations the moment they left the mouth...

Eros didn’t want to remember Terronos that way and he struggled not to but the memory was persistent. He wished he could forget those final weeks of losing his friend piece by piece as corpalis had begun to ravage him. The disease had acted much the same as its chosen victims, it had been an overwhelming force of warfare on the body and mind, unstoppable and without mercy. As much as it hurt, Eros knew Terronos had made the correct choice to join the Spirits when he had, before he had lost even the ability to blink.

Ignatius squeezed his hand again tightly, their fingers laced together. Eros heard him clear his throat and swallow. His voice was quiet and cracked at the edges as he spoke to the Spirit of the former Primarch. It was a while before Eros found his own voice beneath the lump of emotion and joined him. 

The Primarch:

The twins were sleeping as they always did, snuggled together with tangled limbs and foreplates just barely touching. Vesimir was positive they had spent their time in the womb much the same way, sharing space and breath and Spirit. It brought him endless comfort to know they would always have each other, and Cato, once he was gone. Cicero, he knew would struggle to fit in with his inability to vocalize in an audible range heard by species other than turians, but Marcian would help him. Together they would find a way to adapt as he had taught them to. 

Vesimir pressed a kiss to each little fringe and tucked the blanket around them both. Their night-light was on and projecting ocean waves on the ceiling. If he thought hard enough he could almost hear them crashing against the shores. He yearned for the ocean as he had for few things in his life and no facsimile of sound or image compared but he was pleased the little toy gave the ocean back to his boys. 

Vesimir re-activated the security console as he left their room, trusting it to alert him and the Sentinels should the door be opened before the morning. He still wasn’t used to having their room so far away from his own but Cicero and Marcian had made a big to-do out of getting to pick their own room and he only wanted to make them happy. Where their room on Parthia had faced the ocean and the rising sun of the south, the room here faced the main garden and the northern setting sun. It was an old superstition, but Vesimir would have been more comfortable had they chosen a southern facing room as he had. 

Cato had chosen an eastern facing room with large windows and a balcony for better natural lighting. For his art, Vesimir knew, so he could see color as it was meant to be seen. He smiled for himself, some day he fully expected Cato to ask for ocular implants to see every spectrum of color. He would allow it, of course. There was serenity in art and Cato had as turbulent a nature as Parthia’s seas.

His mother would be proud of him. She had been wild too, a wandering Spirit full of wonder and joy at every new experience whatever it might be. Vesimir ached at her memory. The twins couldn’t remember her and in truth, they hadn’t even gotten the chance to meet her, it had all happened so fast. There were moments, shameful moments, when Vesimir envied them that. More often, he felt a crushing sorrow for what they had lost, what he and Cato had lost. He still remembered the struggle of explaining to Cato the arrival home of the two infants without their mother. So overcome to the point of numbness with grief that he had done nothing but stand there as his first son had collapsed into tears. Vesimir thanked the Spirits daily for the family next door -Philia and her parents- that had supported them through Marcilinaes’ death.

He wondered if she and Cato had made up yet, not seeing her when they’d boarded the shuttle to leave Parthia had been a shock and his son hadn’t mentioned her since. Vesimir sighed to himself and ran a hand back over his long fringe. He shouldn’t worry, children often had spats that seemed big in the moment and were later proven quite small. The two would make up and before long Cato would be asking for Philia to visit Palaven.

#ooc #Mass Effect #fanfiction #Sentinel #Chapter 7 #Mavic Virim #Crassus Sativum #Primarch Fedorian #Cato Fedorian #Cicero Fedorian #Marcian Fedorian #Ignatius Voynik #Eros Voynik #(I feel like this took forever #and idk how often I'll do chapters in Eros' pov or in Vesimir's #they're both very difficult to write and idk why #Guardian!AU

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Day 6: Expectation

“I don’t know what I expected,” Cato mumbled, his head a little low as he looked around them. Kahje. There were almost no other turians here, just drell and hanar and asari. And it was all ocean. Not like how Parthia had been with its scattering of islands. All of Kahje’s inhabited areas were beneath the waters. The hanar called it the Encompassing and Cato could see why. He felt very, very small as he looked out the viewport of the shuttle taking them lower and lower. His ears ached.

Beside him, Septimus stood at ease with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, his head a little low beneath the lip of his hood. “You expected Parthia.” He said knowingly.

The boy sighed. “I guess,” He said. “I knew that it wouldn’t be. I just thought...”

“These oceans are older. Deeper. A part of the Void.”

Cato didn’t want to think about the void or about the emphasis Septimus put on it, like it wasn’t the terrible thing that drove the Cabals mad. Septimus spoke about it like it was a real place and Cato wondered if he’d seen it during his meditations. He wondered what it looked like, what lived there, and knew that he didn’t really want to know.

He fidgeted where he stood, glancing up at Septimus, and felt a visceral discomfort at his smile. “Why here?” 

Septimus shrugged and turned away. “It called to me.” 

#September 2021 writing prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #day 6 #OriginalBlackwatch!Au #Cato Fedorian #Septimus

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Day 26: Bait

Septimus hadn’t let him wear armor. There was no point in being bait if he didn’t look like an easy target. The blood-blue armor of the Cabal would have made him look like a different kind of target all together. Dressed instead in almost too big clothing that didn’t fit right at all anyway, Cato looked like a desperately hungry barefaced boy. And he was desperately hungry, able to smell cooking food from every direction had his stomach growling uncontrollably and his mouth watering the same. He hoped they got to eat after this.

There was a varren lying not too far away from him and his spot in an alley between two buildings. It was harnessed and leashed to a pole while it munched on the remains on some unfortunately too curious pyjack. It Cato ignored that it had been a pyjack and that he as a turian should never ever eat one, it looked vaguely tasty. The varren snarled at him, its lips curled back and showing all those big teeth. Cato wiggled closer to the wall.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing. The Kabalim had told him to sit outside this place -whatever it was- and look pitiful. It would be easy for him, she’d said. Septimus had bared his teeth behind her back. Cato had bowed his head and done as he was told. Doing what he was told as he was told it had always been the safer course of action, especially in the Cabal.

“Hey kid,”

Cato trilled. A big krogan was leaning out of the doorway of the building to his right and gesturing at him.

“Yeah, I don’t speak turian.” He huffed to the questioning trill. “You hungry?”

Cato fluttered his mandibles. “I... I am.” He said quietly, rocking up to his feet.

“Well come in here. We’ll feed you.”

That... didn’t feel right and Cato looked around quickly for any of the other Cabal or Septimus. “I’m waiting for my friends,” He squeaked.

The big krogan laughed. “No you’re not. You’ve been crouched there all damned day.”

His mandibles fluttered again, and at the base of his skull, his biotic amp implant heated. “So?”

The big krogan came toward him then, faster than he would have thought, and wrapped a giant hand around his arm. Squeezed. Cato screamed and sparked as the bone protested and then snapped like a twig. His biotics burst outward in a flare of blue and the krogan was tossed out of the alley. The varren began barking wildly, straining at its leash.

“Biotic freak!” The krogan roared.

“Why’d you do that?” Cato screamed back, cradling his arm as it throbbed with his heartbeat. 

And then, from one blink to another, the Cabal was there. Septimus. They surrounded the krogan as one and Cato had to look away from what they did to him. Eezo was the only thing he could smell, like sand struck by lightning, the air charged and buzzing like right before a huge storm. Then barking varren let out a high pitched yelp and then was silent. Cato curled in on himself, whimpering. And then Septimus was kneeling in front of him.

“It’s done,” He pet over Cato’s fringe and thumbed away his tears, mandibles tight to his jaw when he saw the arm. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”

Cato whined and pressed in close to the safety of his guardian. The other Cabal stared at them impassively. “I wanna go home.”

“We will.” Septimus said quietly. 

#august 2021 writing prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #day 26 #OriginalBlackwatch!Au #Cato Fedorian #Septimus

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Day 8: Lost

Parthia

The twins were asleep in the bassinet, wrapped around each other with their tiny foreplates touching and Cato had finally passed out on the bed behind him. Vesimir thought he should take a picture, their mother would have wanted the tangible memory of the first night with all their children together. He didn’t move, he couldn’t. What if he sank into the floor? What if he floated away from it? What if he woke them? He couldn’t handle any more crying. Cato had been inconsolable for hours.

Vesimir’s face was wet. Soaked. He’d given up trying to wipe away the tears when they just kept coming. What was he supposed to do with a child and two infants all on his own? He had taken leave for Marci’s pregnancy and the birth but eventually he would have to return to the Havincaw. What then? What would he do with his children then? This wasn’t supposed to have happened, it shouldn’t have happened.

Call them Marcian and Cicero. Take... take care of them. Take care of Cato. They’ll need you...

Vesimir did his best to muffle his sobs. They sounded like earthquakes. His Spirit splintered like land giving way. He clasped his hands tightly over his mouth, pinned his trembling mandibles to his jaw and held his breath. Hoped it would stifle the sounds like choking a flame of oxygen. His vision turned a watery gray at the edges and he had to breathe again. The Spirits shouldn’t have taken her away. Why had they taken her away when he loved her as he did, when they needed her as they did? Why-

Cato had woken, keening, and crawled into his lap, arms tight around him. Vesimir buried his face against his son’s fringe and they cried together.

#July 2021 Writing Prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #guardian!au #Primarch Fedorian #Cato Fedorian #Cicero Fedorian #Marcian Fedorian #day 8

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Day 14: Hidden

Cato adjusted his hooded scarf, pulling it low over his face and loosening it around his neck just a little to hide the shape of his amp. They weren’t on a turian colony so it didn’t matter as much as it might somewhere else, but Septimus had told him it was best to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It didn’t feel right to Cato, hiding in plain sight as they were or running away from the Cabals like they had. He just hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone anymore and Septimus... He understood. The Cabals were no place for a child even if he were nearing adulthood every day.

And, Cato eyed his guardian sideways as they walked through the little town together, maybe Septimus didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore either. He wasn’t like the other Cabal agents Cato had met over the last few years. He was gentle and calm, he almost never lost his temper and he never resorted to violence unless he was left absolutely no choice. And Septimus was one of the strongest biotics Cato knew. Like him. To the Cabal, they were just assets, not people. Cato got the feeling Septimus didn’t want to be just an asset any more than he did. 

So they’d just never returned after their last assignment. Septimus had paid off their handlers to drop them on a random outpost at the very edge of Hierarchy space and then they’d booked transport a few times under a few different names until they’d finally ended up on Intai'sei. It was like no other place he’d been. Full of deserts and wind-farms and tiny, scattered little cities. Not even really cities with populations so small but the populace was so varied that it had been easy just to blend in.

Cato knew how important it was to blend in and how next to impossible it was with him and Septimus both being barefaced. They did their best not to spend much time with other turians. If their biotics were discovered... Cato didn’t want to think about it. Septimus was trying to find them work here, he hoped he did. Cato liked all the colors of the sands. 

#august 2021 writing prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #day 14 #OriginalBlackwatch!Au #Septimus #Cato Fedorian #(I'm gonna continue this one at a later time in another prompt promise

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Day 30: Marine

Parthia

Mom used to take him down to the shoreline in the mornings as the tide was going out. They’d walk around the wadepools and look at all the little fish and sea critters that had gotten stuck in the shallow areas. Cato remembered more than once scooping some out in a little bucket and carrying them back to the retreating waves so they wouldn’t die when the water evaporated. Mom had said no creature should suffer needlessly when they were there to help it. They’d helped a lot of critters when he was little. When she was still alive.

Cato flexed his toe talons in the sand, not far from a little pool full of kelp and seaweed and tiny crabs. He wondered if Palaven’s beaches were going to look the same, if the tides came in and out the same or if they’d be gentler. Parthia’s oceans were so much larger, its continents were barely bigger than large islands. People did more travel by boat than car. Parthia had three little moons that controlled the waves. He wondered how often he’d even get to see Palaven’s oceans, few as there were. Cato wondered how long it would be until he got to come back to Parthia. And he wondered if mom would have liked Palaven, if her Spirit would be able to follow them there.

He sniffed again, head turned toward the rolling waves as they came in and out in swells. They would be leaving tomorrow first thing in the morning. Cato didn’t want to go. 

#July 2021 Writing Prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #guardian!au #day 30 #Cato Fedorian

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Day 16: Update

Sentinel: The Citadel

“Look at this view!” Cato chirped, holding his omnitool so Dad could get a good look at the Citadel skyline. From the balcony of his hotel room, he could almost see the whole Citadel and he could definitely see all of the Presidium. “It just keeps going!”

Dad chuckled and he was smiling as Cato turned the screen back around. “It does. Hopefully I’ll be able to come with you next time.”

Cato curled up in his seat, feet under him and the omnitool balanced in his lap. “There’s going to be another show in the winter,” He shared. “But that’ll be during school so I don’t expect you to say yes...”

“We’ll see what the schedule is like when the time comes.”

That could mean anything, Cato knew. “You could always send Sentinel Crassus with me again.”

Dad arched a brow at him. “I can?”

“Yeah,” Cato shrugged, smiling small. “He’s really nice it turns out and I know he’s not into the art at all but he’s not bored by it, you know? I mean, he seems interested at least.”

Dad nodded. “Crassus has a certain presence about him and that’s why I sent him to escort you, but I am glad you’re getting along with him.” 

Cato gave his own nod. He understood, he’d noticed how people reacted to his escort along the way. Crassus was big and scary looking, and being barefaced and toneless too, no one had dared to even look at him sideways. And he’d been afraid and nervous around him at first, but now he knew Crassus wasn’t just what he looked like.

“We are,” He told Dad. “He’s cooking us supper right now and talking to Sentinel Mavic but he said we could walk around the Presidium some more before the night cycle started so I’m looking forward to that.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Dad said again. “Your brothers miss you.”

“I’ll be back in a few days,” He rolled his eyes. It had been nice not to have his brothers underfoot for a little bit. “But I’ll bring them back something.” 

#July 2021 Writing Prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #day 16 #guardian!au #Sentinel #Cato Fedorian #Primarch Fedorian #Crassus Sativum

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May I get OC Ask 15 for all of the Fedorians please?

15: What is the first thing people notice about them?

^_^

For the Primarch, (Vesimir) I think people first notice how soft spoken he is. He's very careful with his word choice and always speak with a gentle, reassuring tone.

Cato I think it's his big, brown soulful eyes.

Cicero and Marcian, I think that it's they're identical twins and that they haven't grown into how big their eyes and mandibles are yet. And in Cicero's case that he's verbally mute but still has full range of his subvocals.

#ooc #cato fedorian #Primarch Fedorian #Cicero Fedorian #Marcian Fedorian #(thaaaaank you

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Day 5: Tourist

Sentinel: The Citadel

Cato gave a light tug to his sleeve as they exited the shuttle and the docks opened up around them. Crassus flicked his mandibles and reached down to grasp his hand. Perhaps a little more than needed, he trusted Cato not to dart off at the first sight of something interesting, but the boy was the Primarch’s son and he was in uniform. Protocol would be followed to the letter even if it was only a leisure trip.

In all his thirty-one years, Crassus had never stepped foot off of his home planetuntil three months ago when he had been reassigned to Palaven and the private service of the new Primarch. It wasn’t quite a smooth transition or a proper one. He was Invictian and barefaced, scarred from the removal of his color. It had caused a stir but the Primarch had quickly become his friend, as had the other Sentinels in his service, one more so than the others. The children though... well the twins had accepted him, it had taken Cato a little longer. To be escorting him to the Citadel alone, with only C-Sec to rely on should something go wrong, Crassus could admit to being nervous. It was a relief that they’d only be here for a few days, long enough to see the art exhibit and do a little sight-seeing.

Ignatius would have been the better choice. Former Blackwatch and Palaven born, he was the much better visual representation of the Primarch’s forces, he fit the ideal image of a turian. Crassus knew he did not. In the end, it had come down to image. Cato, a little wise beyond his years, had pointed out that no one would accost him with Crassus at his back for the simple matter that his size and scars and lack of paint made him intimidating. Mavic had found that absolutely hysterical but then the Carthaan born turian knew him better than anyone else. 

Crassus smiled for himself at the memory of their temporary goodbye and led Cato from the docks to the transit station. “We’ve some time before the exhibit,” He told the boy. “Is there anything you want to go see?”

The dark plated teenager shrugged his backpack higher onto his shoulders and smiled widely. “Did you hear the krogan on the shuttle? They said there’s fish in the Presidium lake! Dad told me there’s a really good restaurant up that way too. We could check that out?”

He inclined his head. “Anything you want, Sir.”

#July 2021 Writing Prompts #writing #single word prompts #fanfiction #Mass Effect #guardian!au #day 5 #Sentinel #Crassus Sativum #Cato Fedorian

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Day 2: Color

His son was still too young for the semi-permanent markings of Parthia but as the boy watched him expectantly from the very edge of a kitchen chair, Vesimir knew he couldn’t say no. It would wash off in a matter of weeks anyway and his mother wouldn’t have said no either. Were she not resting, she’d be the one to paint their son’s face the first time.

“Let me get a brush,” He said with a smile. “Sit still and I’ll be right back.”

Cato smiled with the tiny sharp teeth of toddler-hood and nodded his head. Spirits bless the boy, he waited in that same eager perch for the time it took Vesimir to find the proper brush and a towel to drape across his little shoulders.

“You have to be perfectly still while I do this, Cato.” He reminded as he gave the jar of paint a little shake to get it ready and pulled up a chair of his own.

Cato nodded his head again and did as told while Vesimir painted the swirling lines of Parthia with as much artistic flare as was acceptable. The proportions weren’t quite right, Cato still had a lot of growing to do, but that electric purple framing his eyes and dancing across the rest of his face looked good.

Vesimir sat back with a proud smile. “I think some practice will be needed, but it suits you. Go show your mother.” 

#July 2021 Writing Prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #mass effect #guardian!au #Day 2 #Primarch Fedorian #Cato Fedorian

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Day 1: Crunch

Beneath the cast, Cato’s arm itched like crazy. His trimmed and dulled talons were no help even if he’d been able to wiggle them into the gap at his inner elbow. The Kabalim had told him she’d knock his teeth out if she caught him trying to bite through the thing again and Cato wasn’t going to risk finding out if she’d been figurative or literal about the threat. The itch was completely maddening but it wasn’t worth that or what Septimus might do to protect him. What he’d already done to protect him...

Cato had learned after the fact the krogan that had crunched the bones of his forearm hadn’t even been their primary target. That when Septimus heard his scream, he’d broken cover and attacked. The other Cabal operatives had only assisted in the massacre because they were bloodthirsty. Hours of staring into the void during meditations has sickened their Spirits to the point of craving violence. Septimus said so and he was always right. He was also locked in the meditation room for compromising an assignment that was supposed to have been simple recon.

Cato scratched obsessively and ineffectively at the cast. If he’d only acted defensively with the krogan instead of letting himself get hurt, Septimus wouldn’t be in trouble now. And maybe his arm wouldn’t have been snapped like a twig. And... and maybe he wouldn’t be thinking about running away somewhere that people didn’t look down on him for not being as bloodthirsty as they were. That wasn’t a bad thing but the other Cabal always acted like it was. Cato didn’t understand. Only bad people wanted to cause pain to others, wanted to kill others and he wasn’t a bad person. He was just biotic but even that didn’t make him bad. It was the Cabal and what they turned biotics into that was bad.

He looked at the door to his room, almost lost in the complete darkness but he could see the smallest hint of light under the door. It wouldn’t be hard to hack it open, Cato had done it before. He knew right where Septimus was and as long as he was quick and quiet... But that was idiotic when there were always operatives patrolling the halls. He’d have to wait before he could run. Cato just hoped Septimus would come with him. 

#September 2021 writing prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #day 1 #OriginalBlackwatch!Au #Cato Fedorian

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Day: 18 Misfit

“Hey there, Islander.”

The familiar, thickly accented voice had Cato freezing where he stood and biotic sparks rising to the surface of his skin. They’d been so careful, covering their tracks as best as anyone could before they’d even gotten to Intai’sei. Cato hadn’t heard his own name in weeks and he never dared to say Septimus’ even when they were alone. They’d been so careful, but somewhere along the way, they must have messed up if the Blackwatch was here.

“Agent Virim,” He stammered, too afraid to turn around and see the gun he knew had to be aimed at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was huntin’,” The agent said easily. “Not you, so relax, yeah?”

“Septimus?” Cato squeaked, voice high with his fear. He didn’t want the agent to hurt them but he knew his guardian wouldn’t return willingly so that meant he couldn’t either.

“Not him either.” Agent Virim snorted. “Why you here?”

Cato peaked over his shoulder, confused. He wasn’t here to take them back to the Cabals? “Are... are you gonna shoot me if I tell you?”

His mandibles flopped. “Kid, I ain’t gonna shoot you unless you try to zap me. You gonna try to zap me?”

“No sir of course not.” Cato said in a rush, turning to face him and found that agent Virim wasn’t even wearing armor or holding a gun. Like that, he didn’t even look like a Blackwatch agent, he just looked like some guy.

“Well?”

“Oh.” He squeaked again. “Um... we ran. Septimus and me. We ran from the Cabal.”

Agent Virim worked his mandibles in and out from his jaw a few times. “Huh.” He finally said. “Really?”

“Really.” Cato nodded.

“Why?”

He blinked at the agent. “ ‘Cause... ‘cause what they made us do made me feel like a bad person.”

Agent Virim stared at him a moment before he barked a laugh. “Spirits, you are just a kid.”

Cato flared his mandibles reflexively. “I’m seventeen.” He’d been a legal adult for two years already.

“Sure, sure.” The agent chuckled. “Septimus feel like a bad person too, or what?”

He gave a careful shrug, he could guess what it probably looked like. “He... he was just tired.” He said. “The Cabals demanded a lot from him, like a lot a lot ‘cause he’s so powerful. Like asari level powerful.”

Agent Virim shifted his mandibles again. “So he wanted to bail out or you did?”

There was something in the agent’s tone then that made Cato uncomfortable, like he was asking who was responsible and sounding out all the consequences that came with desertion in the same breath. Cato knew what happened to people that deserted and he knew the Hierarchy would be far more strict just because they were Cabal. He swallowed hard.

“Septimus just came to keep me safe. He’s... he’s my dad now and he just wants to keep me safe.”

Agent Virim crossed his arms over his chest. “And that’s why you two didn’t run into the Terminus, yeah?”

Cato nodded. “It’s really not safe there.”

“It’s really not.” His mandibles thinned. 

He knew that. Septimus had told him all kinds of stories about what happened out there. He’d rather run from planet to planet to outpost to anything than spend one minute in the Terminus. But... but here agent Virim was. Here they’d been discovered and Cato felt very much trapped. He didn’t... he didn’t want to be forced to hurt the agent just to protect himself and Septimus, but he also knew that was what his dad would do. Cato wrung his hands together.

“Agent Virim? You... you should leave, okay?” He trilled. “If Septimus sees you, I’m afraid... I know he’ll kill you to keep us safe and I don’t want that. You kept us safe on that assignment. I... I owe you. So please, please leave.”

The agent’s mandibles flopped again. “Shit kid,” He sighed and ran a hand back over his fringe.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, nah, I get it. Hell, I’d do the same.” He took a step back. “You tell Septimus you thought you saw the Hierarchy in town today, yeah? Tell him you think you should leave.”

Cato nodded. “I will. I was gonna after you left. If you found us, well, stumbled across us, it’s... yeah, we should leave.”

“Yeah,” He huffed. “Anyhow, you two leave and get your hands on some Terminus paint. Blend just a lil’ more, you get me?”

Cato nodded again. “I get you.”

Agent Virim gave a nod of his own. “Then Spirits be with you both, kid.” 

#august 2021 writing prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #day 18 #OriginalBlackwatch!Au #Cato Fedorian #Mavic Virim

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Sentinel: Chapter 6

Ignatius:

Ignatius threw his feet up on the banister and slanted a playful grin in his mate’s direction. Eros leaned next to his feet and smiled longingly at the little boys playing together with a pile of toys in a patch of sun. It was a good look for him and it pulled at a dream Ignatius had for both of them, someday, just like this but their own children playing together.

“You know,” He drawled, poking Eros lightly with his foot. “This is good practice.”

“What is?” Eros hummed, tones distracted.

“Watching over those boys.” Ignatius said. “It’s good practice for the future.”

Eros didn’t say anything and Ignatius spotted the minute in and out shift of his mandibles, the way he drew in on himself. He should have approached the subject with more tact or just kept his mouth shut and let Eros imagine on his own. He hadn’t been in the mood for dreams lately and Ignatius should have remembered that. He pulled his feet down and shrank back into his seat. Eros, sensing his mood as mates did -and better than him, apparently- looked over his shoulder.

“I was only joking,” Ignatius said quietly and flashed his throat in a brief apology.

“You weren’t.” He said in return, sliding away from the banister and into his lap, brushing their foreplates together. “But it’s okay.”

Ignatius wrapped around him and took in his scent off his fringe, a hand beneath it to hold him close. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.” He whispered. 

“I know that you weren’t.” Eros whispered in return and brushed their foreplates together again. “It seems much upsets me as of late.”

Ignatius stroked over his mate’s fringe. He knew why; everyone mourned differently. While he had thrown himself into work, Eros had spent days locked in the Temple with the other priests. “All of Palaven suffers his loss.” He said gently. “And it hasn’t been long since Primarch Terronos sat here on this porch with us or with you specifically. You don’t need to rush mourning him just because Primarch Fedorian took his place so quickly.”

“I know,” Eros sighed and laid his head on Ignatius’ shoulder. “I don’t feel like I’m rushing getting over the loss, but these past weeks have felt like only days. I can still feel the heat of the pyre, Ignatius. I can still smell the pine as he burned. Having the new Primarch here, his children, the other Sentinels, it feels as though the world has moved on and left me standing in place.”

“So stand in place.” He said lightly when all that had sunk in. Eros was far more philosophical than he was, more introspective and it was one of the things that had drawn him in. “The world will come back around for you. And I’ll always be by your side.”

Eros smiled wanly at him but still with love. “I trust that you always will be.”

Ignatius kissed his fringe and traced the Noverian markings on his face affectionately. “Why don’t you visit the Temple again today? Spend some time in the company of Spirits? Maybe... maybe speak to his?”

“I think that I will. Would you join me?”

He wanted to, Eros needed his attention more than the Primarch did at the moment, but there was still much he was personally responsible for and he couldn’t just leave without notice even if he wanted to. And he did want to. “I can’t until tonight.”

“Then we’ll go tonight.” Eros told him, nuzzling his fringe under his jaw. “It would be good for you to speak with the Spirits too.”

“It... it would be.” Ignatius said at length and sounded out his own feelings of grief, holding his mate close to himself. He purred quietly as Eros reached up to pet his fringe.

“Are you standing still, too?”

“For moments at a time.” He confessed. “Vesimir is... so different. His methods, his reasoning, even his simple presence. I’m not aware of him in a room the way I was Terronos. He’s so... unassuming and approachable. He’s like the oceans of his homeworld; calm.”

“And full of depth,” Eros smiled small. “I believe he’s a man that’s always thinking. He’ll be good for all of Palaven.”

Ignatius smiled back at him. “I think he will be, too.” He kissed Eros softly. “He can’t go wrong with a Spirit Carer like you on his staff.”

He laughed warmly. “He did well to keep you on staff, too.”

“I’m grateful.” He said with feeling. “That said, I need to check in with Mavic and see how he’s getting on with things. And with Crassus.”

Eros nodded his understanding. “I’ll keep my eyes on the children while you do.”

Ignatius kissed him again. “Play in the sun with them.” He suggested with a smile.

“I think that I will.” Eros gave him a tight hug before sliding out of his lap. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Crassus:

Mavic was heavier than first impression had told him he would be. Crassus still had no trouble slinging him around the mats. It was a little stress relief for both of them, a little testing of Mavic’s fighting ability and a little just having fun. And Crassus found himself genuinely having fun. Mavic would slam into the mats, roll to his feet and come back for more over and over. His taunts were delivered more playfully than cruelly and while he wasn’t all that strong or precise in his attacks, he was quick and inventive in his approach.

Still, Crassus threw him to the ground again and again, laughing whenever Mavic did and trading jokes with him. All too soon it dissolved from standard sparring to wild grappling. Mavic was hard to get a grip on then and even with his bigger size, at first Crassus struggled to pin him down. Finally he managed to trap Mavic’s hands in one of his and take away his ability to kick by kneeling between his legs. They were both breathing hard by then.

“By the Spirits, do you yield yet?” Crassus demanded, his mandibles slanted in a grin.

Mavic squirmed and laughed beneath him. “Fuck you’re heavy.”

“Am I crushing you?” He pressed more firmly to keep the smaller turian from wiggling away.

“Mmm but I like it.” He winked and smiled widely.

Crassus felt heat beginning to pool at that smile. “Do you?”

Mavic arched up as much as he could and purred. “Scoot a lil’ closer and find out.” 

“I think I’m plenty close enough.” He drawled.

The smaller turian laughed again and it was full of all the heat Crassus could feel building between them. He smirked and held Mavic’s hands steady with one of his own as his other started an adventure down his chest, loosening the buttons of his uniform shirt as he went. Those orange colony tattoos were stark on Mavic’s gunmetal colored skin.

“See, here I was thinkin’ you weren’t pickin’ up what I was puttin’ down, but you were huh?”

Crassus arched a brow at him, hand paused above his belt and the tattoos that just peeked out of the pants.”You haven’t been subtle.”

“Keep goin’ and you’ll see how not subtle I am.”

He chuckled at him and got his fingers around the belt-buckle as Mavic started to purr louder. It was a nice sound, one he hoped to hear more of.

“Gentlemen,” Ignatius’ voice rang out.

Mavic blushed all the way to his mandible hinges and deftly slipped his hands free. Crassus flicked his mandibles at the practiced move and rocked back to his feet, pulling the smaller turian up with him.

“Sir.” They said in unison.

“I don’t think I really need to tell you in detail how inappropriate what I just saw is. If for your chosen location alone.” Ignatius frowned at them. “Spirits forbid one of the children were to walk in at the wrong moment.”

“That’d be hard to explain.” Mavic chuckled as he buttoned up his shirt.

Crassus winced.

Ignatius glared. “Sentinel Virim,” He said lowly. “You’re dismissed. Walk the grounds. Cool off.”

“Er... Yessir.” His mandibles fluttered and he glanced up at Crassus. “See you later, big guy?”

Ingrained deference for authority had him looking at Ignatius for his reaction to that invitation, it wasn’t a positive one. “Maybe.”

Mavic sagged a little where he stood, his mandibles hanging loose for all of a second before he pulled them up again. “Yeah, fair ‘nough.” He murmured and then made his way quickly from the gym.

Crassus watched him go, shoulders stiff. He should have said yes... Later, tonight maybe, he’d find Mavic’s room and-

“Sentinel Crassus.”

He faced Ignatius. “Yes, Sir, our behavior was inappropriate and you’re right, our location was poorly chosen.”

Ignatius thinned his mandibles. “The Primarch might not mind fraternization within his units but I-”

“If I may, Sir.” Crassus interrupted. “You’re here with your mate as are several of the staff. I believe that’s past the point of simple fraternization.”

The huge Palavenian twitched his mandibles in annoyance at him. “Be that as it may, I expect you both to conduct yourselves as befits your positions and rank.”

He had to roll his shoulders loose. “As a bareface, I was under the impression I carried no rank. Were Mavic not here, he would be classified as a civilian. And if I may be so bold-”

“You’re already off to a good start.”

“-I don’t get attention from men like him.” 

Ignatius shifted to stand with his hands on his hips, expression still annoyed. “Men like Mavic?”

“Gorgeous men.” Crassus worked his mandibles along his jaw. He was off to a good start of being bold today, heated by his play with Mavic and agitated with the interruption. “What do you see when you look at me, Sentinel Voynik?”

He arched a brow at him. “Another Sentinel.”

Crassus fought the sudden urge to bare his teeth. It was just a platitude, an answer one gave to be tactful. He was sick of tactful people. “You see the scars on my face where my color was burned away and a pattern left behind from a separatist colony. You see eight feet of brute strength and damage. No, Sir, I don’t get attention from men like Mavic, I get it from men like myself and worse.”

Ignatius was frowning at him again but it wasn’t a look of disappointment this time. “I see another Sentinel when I look at you.” He said again. “And a heavy weight on your Spirit. Men like Mavic, Crassus, will chew you up and spit you out and then move on to the next.”

“I don’t think Mavic is like that.”

“He might not be.” The huge Palavenian shrugged.

Crassus gave half a shrug of his own. “In either case, he and I will behave with more decorum.”

“As your superior, that’s all I ask.” His expression softened again. “And that you find time to speak with Eros. He’s here for the Spiritual well-being of the entire estate, not just the Primarch and myself. He’ll keep your confidence, Crassus.”

“...I’ll consider it, Sentinel Voynik, thank you.” In truth, he wasn’t sure how he felt about talking to a Valluvian priest, let alone one mated to his superior. 

Cato:

“Have you seen his smile yet?”

“He smiles at my brothers.” Cato said.

Mavic obviously wasn’t really listening to him. He was stretched out in the grass with his arms under his head and one knee perched over the other with that foot wiggling in the air. It was the perfect composition and Cato drew him now while he was distracted talking on and on about Crassus.

“It’s like the best smile. Changes his face all up. He’s good lookin’ like that.”

Cato hummed and wished Mavic would stop wiggling his foot. It was hard to get the lines right when his subject kept moving but he couldn’t say anything because then Mavic would knew what he was doing and then Cato wouldn’t be able to draw him. That was just how it worked so he waited for the man to quit and then started drawing again.

“His laugh is fuckin’ killer, too. You heard it?”

“No,” He said, working quickly while Mavic was still for a second.

“It sounds like thunder rollin’ over the hills of my homeworld.”

Cato flared his mandibles at him. “Like thunder?” He deadpanned. That was just ridiculous. 

Mavic chuckled quietly. “It’s dumb, yeah? But that’s what it reminds me of.” 

“If you say so.” He erased one line and drew in another. “Are you like... crushing on him?” Adults had crushes, right? Cato wasn’t sure how that worked once you grew up. Spirits, he wasn’t sure how it worked now.

“What?” Mavic blinked over at him. “Nah.”

He shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “Well he’s all you’ve talked about  today.”

The small Sentinel scratched under a mandible. “Well... I reckon I do then, huh?”

“Really?” Cato balanced his sketchbook on his knees, pencil between the pages so he didn’t lose his place. “I thought... he made you nervous too?”

“He did.” Mavic said at length and Cato saw his mandibles flutter. “But then he smiled at me and... yeah, it’s just a good smile, y’know? The kind that makes your stomach all twitchy like there’s critters flyin’ ‘round in there.”

That definitely sounded like a crush to Cato but maybe it was different for adults.

“And, y’know, I was sparrin’ with him earlier and I’m pretty sure he was gonna-” his mandibles fluttered wildly “-er, kiss me but then Sentinel Voynik showed up up and sent me to walk the grounds.”

“Sounds like maybe he likes you too.” Cato said uncertainly. It was hard to imagine Crassus liking anyone like that when he was so stern and mean looking.

“I mean at least a lil’, right?” Mavic laughed in a low register that made him blush. “So lil’ match-maker, you got a sweetheart of your own back home?”

“I...um...” He immediately thought of Philia but it hadn’t been like that. “I don’t know?”

“You dunno?” Mavic rolled over onto his side and grinned at him. “Y’know you’re gonna be as good-lookin’ as your dad when you get older, yeah? Gonna have quite a few suitors then I bet.”

Cato stared at him aghast. What did that even mean? “I thought... I thought of Philia.”

“And she is...?”

“My best friend.” Cato told him, sounding out the confusing feelings of his thoughts going right to her. “We grew up together, same daycare and everything. And I thought we were gonna enlist here together and then go explore the galaxy when we got older but... but then dad became the Primarch and she hasn’t talked to me.”

The small Sentinel had sat up while he was talking and now he leaned back on his hands with his ankles crossed in front of him. It was more perfect composition but Cato didn’t feel like drawing anymore. “Why hasn’t she talked to you?”

“I don’t really know,” He trilled sadly, picking at the pages of his sketchbook. “I didn’t want to leave Parthia or her ‘cause she’s my best friend and I told her that. And I told her the plan about really growing up together but she just said I’d leave and I’d never see her again. And she hugged me, she’d never hugged me before. And we were both crying and Philia never cries. She didn’t even cry when she broke her arm. But she cried and then she didn’t come say bye at the shuttle, not even to my brothers and she loves my brothers. And she won’t answer my texts or calls and... and it hurts. It hurts so bad, Mavic.”

Mavic’s mandibles hung a little loose and he cooed a comforting note. “I’m sorry, kid. That... yeah, that just sucks. It’s hard when friendships fall apart and it hurts a lot for a long time.”

Cato rubbed his eyes, found them wet and used his sleeve to dry them. “I just don’t get why she’d do this.” He said. “I mean, we’d never even gotten in a fight before. We always liked the same things or didn’t like the same things. That’s why we were friends... My mom and her mom were friends too... and... and I just don’t get it.”

“Look, Cato,” Mavic rubbed a hand across his fringe over and over. “Maybe you should talk to you dad ‘bout it? Y’all known each other since baby years, yeah? Maybe he can help you make sense of it all.”

“Dad doesn’t have time for me now.” He whined. “He’s so busy and it’s all big important things.”

“Cato, kid,” The Sentinel smiled at him. “You’re a big important thing to your dad, trust me on that. He’ll make time if you need him to.”

Cato nagged at the talons of one hand. “I... I know he will.”

“Go talk to him, yeah?” Mavic said, standing and brushing himself off. “I’m, er, still supposed to be patrollin’.”

#ooc #fanfiction #Mass Effect #Sentinel #Chapter 6 #Mavic Virim #Crassus Sativum #Cato Fedorian #Cicero Fedorian #Marcian Fedorian #Primarch Fedorian #Ignatius Voynik #Eros Voynik #Guardian!AU

[crassussativum]

Sentinel: Chapter 1

Mavic: The Citadel

Mavic was halfway into a bottle of horosk and a new bed partner when the news came in rapid fire chirps to both their omnitools. He sat against the headboard of his bed with a man he barely knew, the both of them drunk and disoriented, and listened to the reports coming out of Palaven. The Primarch had chosen to join the Spirits before the corpalis syndrome could destroy him. His successor had already been named and within the week the final ceremony for Primarch Terronos would take place at Temple Palaven and then Admiral Fedorian would take up the mantle. 

“Shit,” Mavic muttered as the news repeated, sharing what remained of the horosk with the man in his bed. He knew intimately what corpalis could do to a person. In the Primarch’s shoes, he’d have chosen the gentler way out too, but... “Shit.”

The man next to him trilled lowly and handed the bottle back. “It’s a shame,” He said. “I mean, there’s treatments for corpalis. He could have lived another several years.”

Mavic ached for a cigarette, pausing with the bottle to his mouth. “Those treatments just drag it out.” He rasped and cleared his throat of rising memories. 

“You don’t know that,” He got an affronted look. “Medical science is always improving and there’s nothing the salarians can’t figure out.”

He was tempted to gnaw at a talon but he hadn’t given up one bad habit to start another. “Not sayin’ it’s not, just that corpalis will still kill you. Fast or slow is up to you.”

The man in his bed waited for him to drink and then took the bottle for himself. “It’s... just such an awful choice to have to make. In the end all you do is pass the pain on to someone else.”

Mavic took the bottle back and downed the rest in one swallow. He knew all about passing on the pain, too. But this man he barely knew didn’t get to hear that story, drunk or not. “So we gonna fuck still or do you wanna get another bottle?”

“Another bottle, Spirits.”

It had been insensitive to ask, not everyone coped the way he did, and fuck, a smoke would be nice. “Yeah, me too.”

A week passed and were it not for every turian on the Citadel wearing the colors of mourning, Mavic would have forgotten about the Primarch’s death. He didn’t make a habit of watching the news that came out of Palaven or any of the big colony worlds other than his own. It just wasn’t important to him anymore. At the end of his mandatory tour, Mavic had shifted to the reserves by choice and moved to the Citadel. The four years since then, he’d been in school to fine tune his engineering skills. In another few years, he planned to move back to Carthaan and work with dad as an equal. Of course, the next priority message that came through his omnitool completely derailed that plan.

Mavic Linnaeus Virim: Report to Hierarchy Command in Cipritine, Palaven for Reassignment. Effective Immediately.

Crassus: Invictus

Crassus had blood in his mouth and on his hands. Therian, with the Citadel silver tattooed across his face, fought dirty. He was a combative cheat that used every dirty trick to get the upper hand by any means. Sharp talons, thrown debris and nasty words... Crassus had invited him into the ring to teach him some manners. Such as minding his own business. 

When all was said and done- he with various talon wounds and Therian with a broken nose- Crassus stepped from the ring and cleaned his hands without a word amidst congratulations from his unit-mates. The victory and praise meant nothing to him when he knew he’d likely fight the next transfer to Invictus and probably for the same reasons.

Spirits, why did anyone come to Invictus willingly? Either some massively over-sized carnivorous plant ate you. Or an insect carrying some hereto unknown disease killed you. Or, most commonly, the Hierarchy sent you here to rot when bad choices stagnated your career. Crassus had had the misfortune to be born on Invictus and had never made the effort to leave. He’d managed not to get himself eaten by the plants or outright killed by the bugs. His career though, that had stagnated. By the Spirits, it had putrefied. Fucking Invictus and its sweltering, swampy climate. A shithole of of a planet a step above Tuchanka. Crassus would rather try his luck against hordes of krogan than a single slimy tree on his homeworld. 

Crassus took a breath and pushed the indignation down deep where it belonged. He’d made the choice- the right one- and he’d live with it come hell or high water. One of which he was already in and the monsoons were only a season away. 

“Crassus.”

He turned away from the distasteful landscaped and quirked a questioning mandible at the base’s CO, another transfer he’d invited into the ring and defeated. The man held out a datapad. 

“It’s for you. From the Primarch.”

Cato: Parthia

“I just don’t...” Cato shifted and nuzzled his face into his shoulder to wipe the tears away. His sleeves were already useless on that front. “I don’t get why we have to go now. In two years we were gonna go anyway.”

“He’s the Primarch now.” Philia told him, her mandibles pulling in a little sharply and in her tones, he heard that he should be proud of his father.

Cato had to wipe his eyes again. When had he and Philia ever argued about anything? “I know,” He sighed and picked at his talons. “I know, I still don’t want to leave here.” He glanced over at her. “Or you.”

“You said it yourself. You were gonna leave in two years anyway.”

His mandibles fluttered and he dunked his head. “Yeah but... but I thought, in two years, we’d be enlisting together.” 

Philia fluttered her mandibles back at him. “Cato...”

“We’d enlist on Palaven,” He continued. “And go through basic together and then when that was done, we’d transfer to one of the bureaus. Maybe the information or education branches, I hadn’t decided. Anyway we’d serve our fifteen and then go into the reserves, right? Then we’d buy a ship and just go explore the galaxy together until we found somewhere to settle down and then we’d raise a-”

“Cato.” 

He met her eyes at the firm tone, his plans for their future dying on his tongue. “W-what?” And suddenly his throat was unbearably tight.

“None of that’s gonna happen.” Philia said softly. “You’re gonna go to Palaven with your dad and the twins and I’m probably never gonna see you again.”

“Don’t say that, Philia.” Cato whined, staring at her with his mandibles hanging loose. “Spirits, I’m gonna call you every day and I’ll visit as much as I can and you’ll visit too and we... we...”

She looked at him all sadly and he could see the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes that matched the color of their colony paint. Purple; bright, bright purple. In their whole lives, Cato had never seen her cry. Spirits, he realized this was goodbye. Cato turned his head sharply and faced Parthia’s planet-wide ocean. So blue that he couldn’t tell where sea ended and sky began. He was saying goodbye to this too, it could be years before he came back.

“Just don’t forget about me,” He said tightly, not daring to reach for her hand like he’d wanted to. It was pointless now and he was done crying.  “I’ll be in Cipritine if you ever need me. For anything, okay?”

Philia hugged him. Like she wasn’t a crier, she wasn’t a hugger either. Cato squeezed her tightly, head down on her shoulder as the change of tides at their feet caught his attention. He didn’t know what he’d miss more. The ocean that stretched for miles and miles and miles more, that sang to him, that was in his blood, or his best friend.

#ooc #Mass Effect #fanfiction #turians #Guardian!AU #Sentinel #Chapter 1 #Mavic Virim #Crassus Sativum #Cato Fedorian #Cicero Fedorian #Marcian Fedorian #Primarch Fedorian #Ignatius Voynik

[crassussativum]

Day 10: Variant

Parthia

“-it’s not uncommon with twins for one or both to be born with some kind of defect.”

Vesimir watched Cicero pick up a varren plush and snuggled it with a happy trill. Maybe... maybe they’d stop on the way home and buy one. No, two. Marcian would want one as well. Would Cato? He had a collection at home, didn’t he? He could just ask them, they were waiting in another room with his attendee. 

“General Fedorian?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.” He said, eyes glued to his son but speaking to the doctor. There was nothing wrong with his son, he was perfect as he was. “A defect, you said? I don’t think I understand.”

“Typically we see heterochromia or syndactyly of the toes or fingers. Sometimes we see extra or fewer chambers of the heart. Rarely do we see anything life-threatening these days.”

Life-threatening? Was there something wrong with Cicero that he just couldn’t see? It was only the yearly check-up, it wasn’t supposed to be anything dire. Vesimir forced himself to pay attention to the doctor, heart in his throat and chest tight. There couldn’t be something wrong with one of his children, the Spirits weren’t so cruel to take his mate and their child away.

“And Cicero has a defect?”

“We weren’t able to spot it before he’d grown a little,” The doctor told him. “Cicero doesn’t have primary vocal cords, only the secondary.”

Vesimir hated that he’d almost expected something more, had dreaded something more. His shoulders sagged in relief. “He just can’t speak?”

“Essentially.” The doctor nodded. “He’s purely subtonal. He’ll be able to sound his words with his secondary vocals and he should even learn the universal sign language, but he’s incapable of spoken word.” 

Vesimir inclined his head. Hardly life-threatening, life-changing maybe, but he could work with it. There would only be more he’d have to teach the boys. “He’s healthy otherwise?”

“Perfectly so. As are Cato and Marcian. You’re doing well with them, General Fedorian.” 

#July 2021 Writing Prompts #single word prompts #writing #fanfiction #Mass Effect #day 10 #guardian!au #Primarch Fedorian #Cicero Fedorian #(cheated and worked on this yesterday bc I open at work today #i am awake and dressed and it's not even 5am yet #i'm gonna pass out when i get home later

[crassussativum]

Mercenary!Au timeline

((Chatting with another friend and we got talking about timelines and this happened. Updated for the inclusion of a character that I’ll be writing soon and then I’ll update again as I finish the separate role-plays with Crassus and Cato/Pet.))

2150: Mav is born on Carthaan

2155: Crassus is born on Invictus

2157: Relay 314 occurs. Mav’s on Palaven with numerous other children during the crisis. His parents die covering the retreat of General Desolas Arterius. 

2158: General Desolas Arterius formally adopts Mav. Sept is born on Thracia.

2159: Saren knocks Mav from a tree with biotics, dislocating his left mandible. It never heals correctly and remains crooked.

2165: Mav enlists in bootcamp w/ Saren

2166: Mav graduates boot. He joins the engineer corps.

2168: Mav transfers to infantry. Taren is born on Invictus

2169: Crassus kills his abusive father protecting Taren. Cato/Pet is born in a kennel in the Terminus.

2170: Mav is transferred to a Hastatim unit. Saren becomes a Spectre. Crassus receives guardianship of Taren, enlists in bootcamp.

2171: Mav transfers out of Hastatim and begins training for Spec Ops. Crassus graduates from bootcamp. Begins training for Spec Ops.

2173: Mav travels with Saren as part of Spec Ops learning. Sept begins bootcamp.

2174: Mav enlists in the Blackwatch, meets Aug and Alexae. Sept graduates bootcamp and enters Infantry.

2175: Mav is a full-fledged Blackwatch Agent. Dates Alexae briefly.

2175-2186: Mav handles a number of classified and high risks assignments. Survives being spaced. Granted Special Operative status.

2181: Sept manifests as biotic and is forcibly transferred to the Cabals

2182: Taren skips bootcamp and is instead enrolled in an Advanced Engineering school on Palaven.

2183: Cato/Pet is sold to his first Master. His seizures begin. Crassus enlists in the Blackwatch.

2184: Mav and Sept meet.

2186: Mav leaves for the Terminus undercover as a mercenary. Visits the brothel for the first time. Meets Baast and Ailuros. Runs a few missions with mercenary captain, Dius.

2187: Cato/Pet is bought by his second Master, mercenary captain Dius. Receives his name. Mav meets Velox in person. Meets Cato/Pet. Recruits Crassus. “Enemies and Allies” takes place. Mav meets with Dius to explain himself and asks that he not seek the price on his head. He retreats to Palaven to heal and mourn. Crassus meets Alexae. They work together to remove Mav’s bounty. “Totem” takes place. 

2189: Mav has fully recovered from nearly dying and goes back to active duty within the Blackwatch. He partners with Crassus again.

2193: Mav and Sept meet again and begin dating

2196: Mav and Sept mate and settle down on Palaven

2199: Mav and Sept have their first child via surrogate, they name him Ailuros

2208: Sept makes Kabalim and Mav makes General

2210: Mav and Sept have their second child via surrogate, they name her Elysia

2212: Elysia manifests as biotic. Sept begins working toward biotic integration into normal turian society.

2214: Ailuros begins bootcamp

2215: Ailuros enters Pilot Corps

2216: Ailuros is given placement aboard the Talonstriker

2219: Ailuros looses an eye in combat. The Captain of the Talonstriker makes sure he gets a cybernetic replacement

2225: Elysia begins bootcamp

2226:  Elysia enters the Cabal

2240: Sept succeeds in integrating turian biotics into normal turian society. Cabals are disbanded.

2247: Vesimir Fedorian becomes Primarch of Palaven

2250: Elysia becomes the first biotic guard to the Primarch

2256: Elysia prevents an attack on the Primarch and his family

#ooc #mercenary!au #mav #cato/pet #crass #auguscusacilcolus #Aug for short #and Alexae #his other oc #turianspeedjunkie #Sept #timeline