Tumgik
#Turians and Salarians: ....Hello???
flame2ashes · 3 months
Text
Mass Effect: Ashley gets Turian and Salarian military medals posthumously if she died on Virmire
Me: (◡‿◡✿)
My brain: But what if.....she still got those medals even if she survived Virmire
Me: (ʘ‿ʘ✿)
31 notes · View notes
sol-consort · 4 months
Note
Do you think it confused the other species that the turians of all people are the ones humans bonded with best? First Contact and the minority of humans who hate aliens aside, the most emotional species in the galaxy latched right onto the most emotionally constipated species.
Oh, it definitely confused them. Because other species have had attempts at bonding with the turians before.
The salarians were too hesitant and cautious for them.
The asari acting superior and looking for their own interest.
The krogans are fun to wrestle with, but their core beliefs are just too different for them to work together.
So what's better than the galaxy equivalent of overly curious animals who just can't sit still without packbonding with something around them?
Don't forget that even on earth, humans have this weird relationship with birds. They tend to accidentally mate with us because we pet them so much. Hell pigeons have been in a symbiotic relationship with us for so long that they can't leave our cities anymore. It's their jungle now.
And turians like any other birds would probably latch onto the humans giving them chin scratches and dextro seeds.
Much like how talented bartenders take it as a challenge to make non-alcholic versions of cocktails. I feel like human chefs and scientists would try their best to create dextro versions of our food just so the Turians could eat it. Humans made wine suitable for cats. Why wouldn't they make dextro chocolate ice cream for their beloved turians' neighbour?
We're loud, expressive with our emotions, blunt with our flirting, and very, very ready to latch onto an alien for eternity. Turians gotta respect our loyalty and countless attempts to understand their culture, truly understand it and not just an on papers clinical documentation.
We're also relentless. We fail at something and keep trying. We had so many people die when we first discovered the artics, but we still kept sending researchers over to figure it out. No, like it was voluntary, we were so interested in this cold freezing hell that talented people kept agreeing to go there even if it cost their life.
I bet you every turians have met at least one human they admire, we're stubborn and petty, but use these traits to accomplish something and as fuel for our passions.
Look at how fast the humans bounced back after first contact war. Dude, if it was the asari or hanar, I bet you, my liver, that they'd never let their war with turians go and always hold a grudge.
Not that humanity didn't hold a grudge, but when all the new generations are seeing are friendly adorable featherless birds who are so fun to poke and tease until they come out of their shell, it's hard to remember the grudge from a war you weren't even old to participate in.
We've had countless wars with ourselves, the turians aren't special. And when an entire race is raised upon public service and discipline like them, they must be so repressed for a wild human to come along and be a bad influence on them.
Like live a little! Make bad choices, take risks, and be a little more selfish. Likewise, there are humans who will come along and help strengthen their core values, give your best to others, stay honest and loyal, and help people without looking for payback.
Turian and human duos become far too common that they're excluded from the galaxy program to integrate every race into each other's military and jobs.
Every turian ship has had at least one human working on it. Some even develop a taste for dextro food and cut any risk of contamination by never bringing other foods onboard. Teaching the other turians fun games or showing them human music. The humans proved they could keep up with the turians, even join in on their wrestling matches just for fun.
and while the humans didn't have the same thing because of how much we outnumber them, every human ship at least has met a turian ship and sent them a hello or told them their ship is very pretty then moved on their way.
And it's not all sunshine or rainbows. There are incidents where turians and humans just could never agree or meet eye to eye. Especially with how blind turian loyality to their group can be and how individualistic humans are. Turians are used to accepting orders from highers above without questions, while humans are used to having a vote and a say in every important decision.
We think giving up our individuality is basically the same as dying since you are truly alive if you're not free to be yourself? Nothing defines you in this life but you, doesn't matter what group you leave behind.
they think giving up their clan is basically the same as dying. Because exile must have meant death for them before, if someone isn't loyal to their group, how can they be loyal to anyone?
Some humans and turians just could never get along, but the majority of them proved their ability to overlook the differences and work together despite all.
Turians who become close to humans learn how addicting the taste of freedom is. Humans who are close to them learn how reassuring being a part of a community is.
There is a reason why C-Sec is mainly made out of humans and turians. We both are looking to make a difference in our own way, prove a point, or find a purpose.
I like the idea of humans and turians being the first races to ever look past each other's different appearance and actually see each other's spirits. The first two races to pass the test of the universe and work together and start relationships despite knowing they can't have children, fall in love, and grow old together.
The novelty of an alien falls off very quickly. It takes a human 3 months to develop a habit. After 3 months, you'd stop introducing your friend as Viteponia the turian and just start introducing them as Via, my pal.
You'd even forget the fact they were a turian, like they obviously are, duh, but you just don't think about it anymore. To you, they're Via, the person who held you back from texting your ex and the person who you share your dextro snacks with. You bring them over to your family and forget to mention the fact they're a turian.
I think at some point, turians would try to get you to wear face paint because they forgot you're human and got sad over the fact you don't have any clans. That you're such a good and loyal person, you don't deserve to be bare faced, so here, let them paint your face with their clan colours.
Also I think they're very curious about human hair. Birds love human hair, pulling at it, sitting in it like a next, even using it to build their nest. Turians must have looked at human hair and felt a very weird primal urge to touch it and test how it feels.
26 notes · View notes
sweatandwoe · 2 years
Text
Overflow
Tumblr media
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A new caretaker comes to him every two months, due to the lack of progress on his file. It had been only Turians at first, mixed with a couple of Asari until they ran out of them. Salarians were next, he even had a Krogan once. The emptiness has made him too weak to hate, but they still waited three years before assigning him a human caretaker.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Paring: Saren x GN!Reader MDNI Rating: M with suggestive themes Warnings: Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Depression, Yearning, Saren is yearning but he's still ya know… Saren, Violence, Devotion as a use of escapsim, healing with kindness, masturbation Word count: 2k
Note: We feeling Mass Effecty in this chilis tonight thanks to @pomegranatebat. I'm gonna try and get a quick Arcane drabble out too to keep up with the dailies, but for now Saren time (with the post editor also being broken why tumblr)
AO3 Link
-
There is an emptiness inside of him. 
The void cannot be filled. People try to fill it, try to give him tasks to do, to try and focus his mind like it once had been. To sharpen a dull and rusting weapon. 
He can barely speak anymore. The turian is unsure if it’s due to the emptiness or the shame. His failure rings in every new body that enters this building, the others who suffered the same fate he once did. 
Saren cannot even look at those that are still suffering from indoctrination, even with the Reapers dead for a year. The shame and disgust and hatred he feels are too much. 
It doesn’t help that each time he attempts to look, the second they view him, with their same dead eyes that he knows far too well, they rage at him. Attempting to claw at him, bite him, wrap weak fingers around his thick neck. 
Part of him wants them to do it. To do, what he no longer has the capacity to do himself anymore. In spite of how some of his caretakers have left him the tools, though he knows they were forbidden to. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, and he simply accepts the looks they give him at his continuous failure to end himself. 
Weeks later, he sometimes gets an apology from the individual who raged. Other times no one cares to try, but it does not bother him. 
He feels numb to it all. There is nothing now but his incompetence and failure to comfort him. His family is gone, with Desolas and Nihlus long dead. They were burned on Palaven, so he is told each year when the anniversary for each death passes. He had never attempted to check, not with Sovereign’s whispers and then the emptiness that followed. 
There is no desire to do much but lay here and wait to die. 
Perhaps the worst fact of his life is that he feels nothing anymore. Part of him wants it to end. Wants to damn Shepard for saving his life, when there was nothing more he could give to it. The doctors try to tell him that’s okay, that his fight is over, but it’s not okay. He knows how much his failure has cost the galaxy. 
The realization had come ages ago; that he had never once been strong enough. 
A new caretaker comes to him every two months, due to the lack of progress on his file. It had been only Turians at first, mixed with a couple of Asari until they ran out of them. Salarians were next, he even had a Krogan once. The emptiness has made him too weak to hate, but they still waited three years before assigning him a human caretaker. 
He guesses that they’re desperate or have simply run out of others who would be willing to care for him when they send you into his room. A human medic. His eyes draw over you, telling him already of all your weak points with his cybernetic gaze. Before drawing up to your face. 
The hardened gaze he expects is not there, replaced with something soft. “Hello, Mr. Arterius.” You greet, with a smile that is real. 
Human emotions were easy to discover with how the people emoted, easy to see if they were lying. It had been part of the reason he despised their species, to his trained eye he could spot a liar from a mile away. 
Your smile is not a lie and that gives him some emotion - confusion. “Yes, human?” 
The smile widens, and it is like turning on a leaking faucet. Droplets beginning to fill the emptiness. Too small of an amount to analyze. You look down at the holo tablet in your hands. “I see here you eat… Sorry if I mispronounce this, Gakil-Kavur on Wednesdays?” 
He does not know what a Wednesday is. “Yes. If today is the fourth day.” He does not bother to re-correct your pronunciation, understanding the garbled way the words came out through the translator. It was made for someone who had mandibles, who could vocalize in sub-tones.
The attempt is still strange. The Asari and Salarians had never attempted it. His turian carers had been far earlier on, and they were filled with a hatred he understood. Despite what everyone knew now about indoctrination, in the eyes of the universe for those first few years, Saren was a traitor to his race. A person to be studied, rather than cared for. 
At least they had left him alone once they had finished poking and prodding him, let him wallow in his emptiness alone.
You only leave to gather his meal and return with his own dextro meal and your own levo one. He eyes both, brow plates drawing together. “You’re dining with me?” 
“I figured it had been some time since you shared a meal with someone.” You sit at his table awkwardly, at a seat not made for human legs, with no invitation, and it should enrage him. It should infuriate him to have a human act like him, so directly to his face. But when you pat the chair next to him, there is no rage in him at the motion. 
He simply gets up and sits. 
You ask him gentle questions, and he answers blandly or silently to each one. He thinks it won’t take long to drive you away. 
But humans are stubborn. You are no different. 
You sit with him for the next two weeks and do not walk away from his room unless it’s to gather something. Every meal you gather at the dining table with your own plate of human food. He doesn’t ask you questions, but you ask him plenty. 
Gently, in a way that has the faucet continuing to drip, until there is something filling in him. It makes him dream of you one night. Soft skin, softer eyes, a smile that makes him feel. 
He wants to kill you. He wants to worship you. Both sound inviting. 
When you enter his room one day, and are quiet, asking him fewer questions, smiling far less, but still ensuring he had all his needs met, he knows something is wrong. Not that he will ask what it is, but he simply knows. 
He finds he dislikes your silence, it weights heavier than your words. So at dinner, he turns to look at your food. A bowl of oddly spiraled strings. “What are you eating?” 
Your gaze snaps at him, surprised but not fearful. He hates that. You should fear him, especially with the thoughts he has raging in his skull. He wants to taste your blood just as much as the heat between your legs. 
The smile is back then. Gentle, kind. He isn’t sure if he hates it anymore. You hold up a forkful of it. “This is pasta. Plain, just with some garlic and butter.” 
“Does it come in other varieties besides plain?” He doesn’t care. Not really. But the questions make you smile wider and brings back life into your gaze. 
The faucet is no longer dripping, becoming a steady stream. 
He dreams of you more often. And though he wants to taste your flesh, it is often more carnally than a literal sense. Though he dreams of nipping your neck until his mark is clear to see. A brand of his teeth, so everyone will know you are his. 
Waking from his latest dream, he wonders if you have anyone else. A family to care for that you don’t mention. Caring for him is your job. He shakes the thoughts and doesn’t ask you any questions that night at supper. Still, you smile, you even laugh at one of his answers to your endless, noisy questions. 
The sound carries in his head, until late that night when he doesn’t just dream about you but fists his cock to the thought of you beneath him. Has him clawing holes into his mattress, and thinks of how you should be worshipped by his tongue and hands before you bless him with a pleasure that will always feel unearned. 
It has been a month and a half with you here, he realizes once he’s done. In a couple of weeks, you may leave him forever. The fear of losing you comes to mind, of becoming empty once more. He needs you to stay, and for that, he needs to make progress.
When you enter the next morning, he is already up and out of bed. Dressed in something nicer than his usual casual clothes. “Can we go on a walk today?” 
You blink, but nod. Taking him by the hand, and giving it a squeeze that he can just barely feel. Weak. He could rip you to shreds. But your eyes would halt him from ever doing it. 
“The gardens are nice this time of year.” You mention gently, drawing him into a secured garden house. The new environment suits you, surrounded by things that are subpar to your beauty. “We might get stopped by a supervisor.” 
“Why?” He knows the answer, but he wishes to hear more of your voice. To curl a talon against the soft flesh of your cheek. How easily could it bleed under his touch? How careful would he truly have to be with you? 
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you haven’t left your rooms in years, Saren.” His name rolls off of your tongue, tone amused and joyful, and he can feel his lower plates shifting. He is in casual clothing, no armor to hide it and he wills down the thoughts of all the other ways you can voice his first name. 
It’s too intimate. 
He slows in his walk, staring at some flowers. Your eyes would be too much right now. He grips the railing. “If I may be candid-”
“You may.”
“-You make things easier.” Scanning the plants, and pretending you’re not close. That he could pull you to him with the soft hold of your hand still in his, and never allow you to escape.
“I do?” 
A nod is all he can manage. Once empty and now he feels too full. Far too full, he may burst. 
Your free hand rests on his arm, and he stills. The hand still grasping his own squeezes again. He cannot look at you. “I’m happy to help you, Saren.” 
He pauses and takes in a breath, hates how it shakes. “Do you have a family?” 
“I had a brother. He was lost in the war.” Your hand grips his own, understanding spreading through the touch. You don’t say the words, you’ve read his dossier, you would know already. Just as he does. 
He turns and looks at you. Your eyes are watery, and he raises his free hand. Running the back of his talons carefully over your cheek, unable to wipe the tears properly away. He would cut them for next time, to comfort you properly the next time he witness your tears. 
As you lean into his touch, soft skin meeting his talon, and when he sees that it does not so easily pierce your flesh, he knows the future already. That one day he will devour your soul and heart until both of you are one. Until you are his, and he can display himself as yours. To show you the worship that you deserve as the new deity of his soul. 
Saren knows he would die for you. Kill for you. You make him feel, you make his head and chest so full, that the emotions begin to overflow. 
He settles on leaning forward and brushing his mouth over your forehead. Taking in as you tremble from the touch. You lean into it, and he shifts his head to rest his forehead against your own. 
Saren vows to never be empty again, not when he has the fullness of your heart close by. 
No matter the cost.
312 notes · View notes
swaps55 · 1 year
Text
A Strange Little Thought on the Similarity of Species
Hello! I love your headcanons, and it’s prompted me to finally stop lurking around tumblr and post something [It’s my first time interacting with tumblr in any meaningful capacity, so forgive if this isn’t how submit a post is supposed to work].
So I’ll start with a little HC (seasoned with a healthy amount of AU) that’s been sticking in my mind since I first dived into the games a couple of weeks ago, here presented as a conversation between several characters sometime in between the events of Mass Effect and Mass Effect 2.
For context: Daniel and Eleanor are human, Decusia is turian, and Tali, unsurprisingly, is quarian. As for what they’re doing on the Migrant Fleet together… well, that’s a mystery for the full fic to answer when I get around to writing it all down.  
“Okay,” Daniel said as he took a seat on one of the bunks, a slight grin on his face, “if we’re quite done talking about how my human plumbing works…”
The grin disappeared. “I’ve actually been thinking for a little bit on something like that. After we ran into Sovereign on Virmire and after Ilos.”
“You were thinking about… reproductive systems?” Decusia asked as she scratched her head, uncovered as it was in their enviro-sealed bunk room.
“A little broader than that, Decusia.” Daniel said as he leaned forward. “Think with me for a second, and let’s get into that engineering headspace we did on the Normandy.”
“So,” he began, “think about the races that constitute the major powers in the galaxy. Asari, salarians, turians, humans, and even the quarians. For all our differences, when it comes down to many of the most important parts, we’re largely the same; bipedal, with two arms capped by dexterous manipulators consisting of at least 3 fingers, with a head on top of that body containing at least two eyes for binocular vision.”
“And it gets crazier than that the more fundamental you get. All our species’ DNA  also somehow consists of the same nucleotides, and our amino acids are, with some slight exceptions that can be accounted for with modern medicine, largely the same as well. Not only that, but the construction of our physiologies is largely compatible, and with some effort and technology, a child between two species is theoretically probable. An insane leap from merely possible.”
“Of course,” Tali interjected, “the asari cheat the whole child problem by doing what they do with their whole union thing. And that always makes another asari." 
She paused for a moment before shaking her head slightly. "But I assume there’s also some point you’re trying to get at here."    
"Of course.” Daniel’s gaze swept around those gathered around him. “Before Virmire and Ilos, any biologist worth their table seasoning of choice would likely have written those facts off as the largest scientific fluke in the galaxy. If they didn’t, then they likely would have said that this sort of biological blueprint was just the most evolutionarily advantageous. Now though…”
He paused, the silence on the cusp of being uncomfortably long before he broke it. “Now I can’t help but wonder if the biological paradigm was set up by the Protheans… or the Reapers.”
“Wait a minute,” Decusia said incredulously. “You mean to say that we’re all… engineered to be like this? That someone’s been messing with our developments for tens of thousands of years, just to get… this?”
“Who else could operate on that sort of time-scale?” Eleanor replied, cupping her chin in thought. “The Reapers come around every 50,000 years to do the clean-up, leaving technology that allows life to develop in the way that they desire. And the Protheans are supposed to be master geneticists, if what Liara’s sent us from where she is on Illium is true. They ruled the galaxy for a good chunk of their 50,000 year cycle, enough time to get things kickstarted, at the very least. And there’s the thing that Vigil, that Prothean VI, said to her on Ilos before we had to go.”
“All things in the galaxy became Prothean.” Tali said, her eyes. “Became Prothean…”
“And who knows how literally we can take that statement.” Daniel mused. “So, regardless of who it might have been, if it is a case of species engineering on a galactic scale, the questions become…" 
"Why?” Decusia asked.
“What for?” Tali added.
“And if it is the Reapers,” Eleanor said somewhat ominously, “how much does it matter in the first place?”
“Million-credit questions, one and all.” Daniel said quietly.
It was silent, a contemplative, somewhat sober thing, before Decusia reached for her helmet. “Well, now that I’ve got the entirety of my species’ existence to contemplate, Tali, is there anything that needs fixing we can work on?" 
"Oh, plenty, I’m sure.” Tali replied. “I think that’s enough sitting around for now. Let’s get to work before my head explodes. 
This amazing submission comes from @striderincosmos.
First, WELCOME TO TUMBLR! Great to have you here!
I LOVE this, and hope you continue poking at the idea!!!! Thank you for sharing it!!!
14 notes · View notes
joh-ska · 3 years
Text
I’m obsessed with Mass Effect Andromeda again (Hello, Jaal and Evfra <3) and while I was failing at writing a one-shot, I had a thought.
In the ME universe, Humans are incredibly non-reactive. Like, they are really in control of their emotions to the point of underreacting. Some of this can be attributed to the military focus, but even humans on the Citadel are very meh when it comes to reactions.
I have a theory: Humans were judged so much for being emotional to the point of being compared to children by Turians, Salarians and Asari (all civilizations that have very strict social hierarchies) that they stopped being expressive. At least in mixed company.
I’m sure there’s still crazy social media platforms that only humans know about where everyone acts like an idiot, but it’s generally agreed that there’s a certain way humans are supposed to act around non-humans.
My point is: There comes a point in  Andromeda when humans realize they can drop these stupid rules they come up with to “fit in” with the other races, and the Angara have no clue what hits them.
337 notes · View notes
Text
you know if the Keelah Si'yah doesn't make it safely to Andromeda I think I'm going to riot. Please let the funky little aliens survive, if we find that ship and it's blown to bits like Natanus was I will Scream. Continuously. for Hours. BioWare this is a Threat.
Also there's drell on that ship, if we ever go back to Andromeda can we have a drell companion? Or a hanar? I'd like that for me5 regardless but it'd be extra fun for Andromeda. Can you IMAGINE the Blasto jokes if we got to team up with a hanar? Also drell are so ridiculously underutilized like HELLO??? You make really cool lizard people with TWO SETS OF EYELIDS and really weird hands that for once don't have 3 fingers and you only include 3 of them in the whole series!!??! And you only bothered to make ONE OUTFIT so Kolyat and Feron just have barely modified copies of Thane's outfit??? HELLO?? YOU COULD'VE DONE SO MUCH MORE???
Also I would literally actually KILL to see alien fashion that isn't just the same basic suit/dress 300 times. The asari are rich as fuck, their fabrics and couture must be TOP TIER. I love the pastels of the angara but what the actual fuck is the shit the civilians wear? How does that even work, how do they put it on??? The material is so strange, what is it? I love to imagine the couture on Aya includes fabrics that look like molten lava. Fabric that glows like the plants on Havarl!
I'm falling down the rabbit hole here so to make it all make sense, some random hopes for me5:
drell companion. PLEASE. BIOWARE I AM BEGGING. I have a track record of falling for drell but even if I didn't, if we got a female drell companion I'd fall in love with her instantly and she'd own my whole entire soul, same as Isabela from DA2
for the love of all that is holy bioware PLEASE TALK ABOUT LANGUAGES. A whole codex entry about the bazillion different languages of the angara, and Jaal doesn't even call a romanced Ryder by a cute name in his language?!?!! TRAGEDY
more hanar. i don't even care in what capacity tbh, they're just so funky. space jellyfish!! what's not to love!! They TALK through BIOLUMINESCENCE. Also we know so little about them like what is up with that? What is the nature of their relationship with the Protheans, back when the Protheans were alive?
KROGAN BABIES!! I WAS PROMISED KROGAN BABIES I WANT TO SEE KROGAN BABIES!! And baby salarians and turians and i'd love to see them all be friends,,, can you IMAGINE a baby salarian though??? Their eyes must be so bonkers disproportionate to the rest of them like baby horses and their spindly legs...if a baby alien looked at me I would die immediately. I love you baby aliens. To die ensuring that you won't see the horrific monsters that inhabit these galaxies would be the greatest honor
if Shepard shows up - which, can't tell a lot from that trailer but imo it looks like Shepard might be the PC again - just let them rest. If it were up to me, the only game Shepard would be in post-ME3 is one in which they're happy and healing and not having to sacrifice themselves to save the fucking world again. Shepard's suffered enough, they've more than earned a chance to rest. The thought of seeing them have to pick up the gun again to fight and suffer and die again breaks my heart.
Quarian ark!!!! What on earth happened??? Did someone bring the plague back? Did kett cause a plague or catch the ship? DID THEY END UP WHEREVER THE JARDAAN RETREATED TO??? the quarian ark dlc haunts me every day. I really hope they're alright :(
I really doubt it's coincidence Cora and the Illusive Man have the same last name. I mean, extended family is a thing, and Harper is probably a really common name considering how many humans there are in the galaxy, but...hmmgh......it eats my brain
and, finally: WHO was that SHADY-ASS MOTHERFUCKER ALEC AND JIEN GARSON WERE DEALING WITH????? The benefactor??? Is it TIM? Is it somebody else entirely? TIM and his somehow limitless money seems like a probable suspect, but where in the world did all that money come from? Why was Jien murdered? How on earth did only the Hyperion not fall into enemy hands immediately on entering Andromeda???
40 notes · View notes
writtenjewels · 3 years
Text
Tinkering
He really needed to stop staring. Scott tried to focus his eyes back on the shuttle he was working on but Jaal was right there. He was running into the angara a lot lately-- usually working on some sort of technical problem. Jaal seemed to have a knack for tinkering that the colonists were happy to use to their advantage. It was fascinating watching him work. His hands were so different from a human's but they worked the tiny pieces with skill.
And Scott was still staring. Jaal lifted his head and turned to catch his eye. Shit. He looked away and pretended to be busy. After a minute he glanced back over and found Jaal still looking at him. The angara smiled at him before going back to his own work. They went back and forth like this for a few minutes: focusing on their tasks, looking away to smile at each other, and back again.
Is he flirting with me? If Scott was doing this little exchange with a human, the answer would be “yes”.  An asari doing it would also probably be flirting; turians didn't smile and salarians didn't really have those kinds of urges. Scott had no idea what to make of this behavior from an angaran standpoint.
They finished and the team broke for a water break and some rest. Scott debated on whether or not to approach Jaal but the angara settled it for him. Scott felt like an idiot just starting at him, tongue-tied.
“Hello,” Jaal greeted him. “I enjoyed working with you today.”
“Did you? We were on opposite sides of the shuttle.”
“That is true,” Jaal agreed, “but I was pleased to see you all the same. You looked happy. Do you enjoy this sort of work?”
“Sure. It's not making deals with krogan or cleansing radiation from a planet, but it's all right.”
Jaal's lips pulled into a frown. It was so interesting that though they were a different species, the angara had many of the same facial expressions as humans. “Do not diminish what you do, Scott.”
“I'm not.” Scott shrugged his shoulders. “I just know it's not going to impress anyone when they've got Sara.”
“It impresses me,” Jaal said quietly. He reached out for Scott's hand, delicately brushing his own hand across the palm. Scott reflexively let his hand lay flat. He was staring again, and probably blushing, too. It was hard not to react that way. The angara were so open and honest about everything they did. “You are intelligent and dedicated. These are good things.”
“Thanks.” He closed his hand and let his eyes drop. “I should... go,” he said awkwardly.
“Very well. I would like to tinker with you again.”
“There's a lot that needs building and repairing around here,” Scott noted. “I'm sure we'll run into each other.”
“Why would we be running?” The question startled him enough that Scott laughed. Jaal's expression warmed and he smiled, too. “Another human expression. I am still learning them.”
“Talk to humans enough and you'll figure it out.”
“So... you are saying I should 'run into you' more often?” Scott might have been imagining it, but Jaal sounded almost... hopeful? Eager? Or maybe that was Scott projecting.
“Sure,” he agreed. “Let's run into each other and tinker.” He didn't know if Jaal had been intentionally flirting, but Scott was definitely flirting back. Jaal's face lit up in a smile. The reaction made Scott nervous. Did Jaal know this was flirting?
Great. Now he was going to spend the day wondering if he accidentally turned “tinkering” into a euphemism for something.
27 notes · View notes
Note
Our discussion on turians made me wonder: how do you imagine the culture of the Salarian Union? (I'm sorry, you probably talked about this elsewhere, but I was too lazy to look for that, if so feel free to refer me to that post.) I find that there are surprisingly little elements about it in canon, though there are a few hints, like the fact that the planets in the Pranas system all have modern names, the previous names having been discarded, presumably, because they evoke "bygone superstition"?
Hello! Sorry I took some time. I actually rarely packaged my thoughts on salarian culture in a digestible way, so you gave me a great opportunity to give it a recap! I will go more indepth in the future for sure, but I might do a lil' overarching presentation of my general thoughts.
First, I have written an exploration/explanation of some of my headcanons regarding salarian reproduction, and it can be found here on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18872515
It is sliightly out of date and I need to do a pass to adjust some of my thoughts, but I still go by the general idea.
I also agree that there is very little things in the OT canon. I think there might be slightly more in Andromeda maybe, but I still haven't played the game so who knows!
I even believe the games kind of give up on salarian culture past ME1, where they are arguably given the most importance; we get more depth to it in ME2 through the sole and lonely perspective of Mordin; and in ME3 they are barely worth more than somewhat cheap antagonism and a couple of questionable jokes. Even right now during the promo of MELE, I felt like salarians keep being characterized as weird-cute-gross, and more like the butt of a joke than people. Even the promo for Director Tann in MEA had this "haha you get a role for a mass effect character and you thought you'd be sexy and cool TOO BAD" vibe to it, which makes me think part of the devteam (or at least the marketing side of it) don't think too highly of their very own space frogs :'(((
But to get on my actual thoughts (under the cut and the nice gif, because it won't be as long as it could be, but it's still somewhat long):
Tumblr media
So first off, I'm trying to keep in mind how indescribably huge the Salarian Union is: we're talking about a conglomerate of planet-sized communities, moons, artificial stations, plus appendages in every large-scaled, cosmopolitan communities in Council space and possibly beyond. Just like it would be hard to talk about any united "human culture", I think the same could be true for any Mass Effect species --even though, for the sake of both narrative convenience and the tendency for globalization once communities get connected and break down communication barriers, shortcuts have to be made (and that helps make Points, and I like stories to have Points so yee).
For this reason, I have identified organizational tendencies within these communities, based both on baseline of natural grouping emerging off salarian biology (clan-based structures with matriarchal figures) and where I speculated breakdowns would happen in the modern, multicultural setting of the ME universe. To brutally over-simplify: there would be the "traditional" political organization of Sur'kesh (that I will briefly cover later), the "colonial" style (a derivation of the Sur'kesh style with more centralization), and the growing influence of ultraliberalism creeping from Council space back unto these communities, creating a myriad of variations depending on how much the communities are willing to adapt to production being controlled by corporations.
I headcanon the culture, however, to be at once: very collectivist yet an oligarchy (because dalatrasses have a right to power by virtue of existence basically), extremely eugenist to the point of having created literal, biological races that are genetically distinct from each other and cultivated to remain as such by some clans (and therefore can be very cruel towards the disabled/the imperfect at birth too), misandrist (I believe being a male salarian from a shitty clan/baronny is one of the lower forms of political existence that can be in this universe, hence why their lives in the working force are so goddamn disposable), but also designed to protect its members and have the community take care of their basic needs (so homelessness is almost not a thing, or at least used to not be a thing). I also believe the culture to be consistently young and vibrant, with lots of energy (for better and for worse). And during the time of ME, to be under economical and social duress (even gender duress!) as it sits at a crossroad regarding its future, and everyone has a lots of ideas on what this future should look like, including people gawking the outside with economical or political interests in the outcome (this basically the plot of The Empire of Preys, which is technically a prequel to Halfway Home but will be written after HH because I love chronologies that make sense and are easy to understand :) :) ).
So concerning the OG, Sur'kesh style: I have contorted a weird economical/diplomatic/land planning system into quasi-existence, that is based around a unit called the "symposium". This is a *relatively* young system in their history (still milleniums old, it really solidified in the middle of the Rachni Wars as a reaction/adaptation after several waves of imperialism that didn't really look like ours but had the same effect of flattening local cultures into a more aggressive semi-ethnostate), but central into dividing resources, workers, affect. I will not go into too much details because this is quite complicated, but these are basically commitees that will take democratic decisions among its members, based on how many clan members are appointed in both this symposium and and adjacent symposiums that might be helpful to this one --it's a system explicitely based on bribes and social influence, and getting the partial control of key symposiums is absolutely essential for Dalatrasses to maintain the influence and relevance of their respective clans. It's also a system that has, traditionally, very little use for money (it exists, but as a token of exchange that doesn't carry inherent value --if you have only access to money as a clan, you are basically worthless and won't get access to good matches or good symposium seats, or at least you used to until capitalism knocked at the doooooor and that kinda fucked things uppppppp and the society is not recovering and the gaps are getting extreeeeeme this is the plot of TEOP basically).
Oh and on the subject of the transition to more capitalist values and the decay of clans that cannot keep up, I wrote The Leftovers a couple of years ago, which talks about a young dalatrass-to-be discovering she might be sterile, right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15854244
I have a ton more things to say on the subject (and salarian culture as a whole), buuut this is getting quite long already haha.
And in regards to your question: I headcanon that salarians from one specific continent -that then became the "cultural norm" over imperialism and complications- were confronted, in a continental way, to a huge hurricane that led to incredible floods and then stagnant water and diseases, which really soured their relationship to water that was previously quite holy. This led to a very bitter enlightenment; their "Renaissance" came out of spite against nature rather than anything else, and a lot of previous ideas were abandoned for a time -then reclaimed, then abandoned again, then warped... It's complicated. :D
46 notes · View notes
skyllianhamster · 3 years
Note
Hiya! Do you think the batarians would be better off without the 'facial tubes' next to their mouths? I'm sure this seems oddly specific, but I can't really help but notice how they kinda distract from what's probably meant to be the first thing we're supposed to notice, that being their eyes. I've sorta always felt like they were just adding to an already visually busy design without doing anything super interesting, I personally think it makes it harder to tell them apart in general.
Hello! I’m no expert in this topic, so I’ll try to share what our art director taught our concept artists at work.
A concept that often comes up in character design is shape design. Put simply, if you can tell who the character is at a glance by just looking at the silhouette, that’s a huge step up in making a character memorable.
Tumblr media
In Mass Effect, the most interesting alien designs happen with the races that are not limited by technical constraints (animation / rigging) or having to be designed to become romance options. So you get silhouettes like these, and there is never a question which race is what.
Tumblr media
The humanoid races on the other hand have to face all these constraints, and so by comparison you get a very stale lineup:
Tumblr media
Unless you’re a Mass Effect fan, it will probably take a while to figure out which of the first three is the human, from the front. Things get a bit interesting from the side or going toward the right of the lineup, but overall there isn’t a lot of variety going on. The armor/clothing may either contribute or detract from that.
An example of this being a problem happened recently, when people couldn’t agree whether the 2nd character in the teaser was drell or human, or if the 3rd character was turian or krogan:
Tumblr media
So in terms of shape design, finding a batarian head among other humanoid aliens can be a pretty tough job at first glance:
Tumblr media
Batarians are still subject to animation constraints as they are common enemies and you interact with quite a few. However, their shape isn’t as interesting as, say, the salarians. From the side, they could still be mistaken for human heads.
One way to somewhat offset this is to at least give the characters remarkable or unique facial features. And IMO drell, turians, and batarians are pretty good examples of this.
Tumblr media
Drell have their eyes and frills. Turians, which iirc were not supposed to be intended to be romantic interests in ME1, have the very distinctive crest and edges all around, plus mandibles. Batarians have their four eyes and the tube things on their face, plus they’re supposed to be fuzzy.
So, I think, rather than just the four eyes being supposedly the center of attention, the tubes also play a part directing the focus of the eye. With drell and turians, the kind of angles made by their features lead the eye to the unique bits of their face - outwards. Batarians have a kind of spider-like direction going on, pointing inward to the center. Overall, there’s interesting shape design going on with their features.
Is the batarian face design good? Can’t say for sure, but it certainly stands out on its own well enough next to the other races. Putting aside silhouettes, players have no trouble telling races apart. There is enough depth and shape variety to make the face interesting.
Are the facial tubes necessary? Perhaps not, and theoretically you could replace them with crazier looking stuff. Or less crazy, if you prefer. IMO they’re a pretty interesting feature of the face, and it certainly does take some focus away from the eyes, but one could arguably also say that the eyes are not necessarily the focal point. Maybe you’re supposed to look at the whole package.
Hope that answers your question. Character designs go through several revisions based on a lot of different factors, so BW would have their reasons for each character looking like they are.
(Images from troodon80 @ DA, and a couple from google)
143 notes · View notes
autodiscothings · 3 years
Note
Hello! I am quite new to your page and I love how you draw Kolyat. ♥️ Also, would you care to share some details about your characters?
I’d love to, thanks for asking! Funnily enough, I did a personality quiz for them recently, so I can just copy/paste the results here. Most of my content for Mass Effect is centred around Kolyat Krios and Oriana Lawson: 
I write them here: [AO3] I draw them here: [ART TAG]
Everything I do with them is post-war, and them as adults in their 20s navigating the shit heap that is a broken, post-destroy galaxy, and how they cope with their own traumas. They both want to help rebuild, but do it different ways.
Tumblr media
KOLYAT KRIOS
Kolyat Krios has a lot to live up to and change, but prefers to do it on his terms.
Kolyat is a methodical man, and gentle and patient with the people who need it most. He possesses an unexpected depth of emotional intelligence, and becomes a protector of the small and the strays, from a galaxy that often forgets about them.
While Kolyat can be even-keeled, if he is left to stew in his feelings, his anger will get the better of him, and he will react. He has a reputation for salt, and for his surliness; he also has a tendency to hide himself from others as a defence mechanism, and is slow to trust.
Tumblr media
ORIANA ‘ORI’ LEE
You might know her as Oriana Lawson, but she’ll introduce herself as Ori Lee.
Ori is a warm, compassionate soul who loves to be around other people and enjoys her work as a colony developer/civil engineer for Kellam Industries. She is quick-witted and smart, and funny with it; her taste in fashion and makeup is impeccable, as is her comic timing.
She is very good at getting to know you, but you don’t get to know her. Ori keeps her cards to her chest, and only lets her guard down around people she trusts completely, and has a tendency to care too much about what others think about her.
Tumblr media
FISH (the cat)
Queen of everything, ruler of them all- well, maybe just Kolyat’s apartment for now.
Fish is a foul-tempered gremlin of a tabby cat, with white socks and a white belly. Her iron paw rules the roost of her home; she graciously lets others share it. Fish loves her food, her nap spots, and her soft piles of things to sleep on. She likes listening to music, and watching the traffic outside of her window.
She is a former stray with both PTSD and trust issues, and for this reason she lashes out without thinking, and needs her own space. When she trusts though, she really trusts. It will take her forever to do it, but once you win her heart, she’ll love you forever.
Tumblr media
BATESEDA ‘Bats’ T’LORI
The man, the myth, and the almost legend- at least, in his mind.
Bats was always told he had potential, and rather than stay with the Huntress squad who trained him, Bats left for the Citadel. He is a firecracker of a man who makes everything he does seem fun, always ready to crack something- a joke, his glass, a skull. Pour another one out, he has stories to tell, and they’re mostly true- if he remembers them right.
He has a tendency to go through frequent bed partners, and never keeps anyone around for long. Despite the crooked smile and easy living, there is an air of melancholy around Bats he is reluctant to explain, but something shows through the cracks every now and then. He will take things too far -the jokes, his drinking, his anger- and fall down the holes he put himself in. One day he will struggle to get back out of it.
Tumblr media
ARJUN PATEL
A man who borders the line between squad dad and gross uncle, Patel is a treasure for any crew to have.
Patel is content to stay in the background, and is more savvy than he lets on, willing to play the bumbling, easy-going fool if it’ll get him what he wants. He is essentially Columbo with a cooking habit, but is willing to share his snacks- if he likes you, and that doesn’t take much. He is a man with quiet passions, and they shine brightly when he gets talking; his food, his wife and daughter, his interest in history… ask him about them, and his enthusiasm will be boundless- much like his appetite.
He has a tendency to be lazy, if he can get away with it. Patel can also overspill the TMI details of his life even if you’ve heard them before, without a clue he’s crossed a line.
Tumblr media
SISO VITACUS
Like most of the squad, Vitacus came to the Citadel for a new life, and another shot of something. He recently split from his bootcamp boyfriend, and is really not looking for anything serious- at least, not at the moment. Vitacus is neither as funny as Bats, as serious as Kolyat or as happy as Patel, but he fits right in as the jack of all trades of the squad, content to play everyone’s middle man and all rounder.
He has a reputation for awful, neon suits, a love of dancing and shitty action movies, as well as a fondness for lurid drinks, despite looking like the kind of man who likes none of these things from first glance. Vitacus is a tall, stocky bruiser of a man, even for a turian.
Vitacus can also be a pushover and too laidback for his own good, and can drift along with the crowd than go against it. He’s unsure why he’s like this, but as far as he’s concerned, ending up in law enforcement is already an oddity- all his family are engineers and scientists.
Tumblr media
BRATHAN ‘Brath’ SEKET
If ever there was a man you were unsure of -even after knowing him for years- it’s Brath. The usual rags to riches story, heavy on the rags; Brath fled the grasp of his abusive family as soon as he was able to, taking on jobs across the Terminus until he built up enough of a reputation as a gun for hire.
He got his money from less than savoury sources to begin with, but absolutely no slavery. He has a personal honor code he will hold the rest of the galaxy to, even if you don’t know the rules. Brath might give off the appearance of loving luxuries and living well, but to him it’s just greasepaint and stage costumes; he’s learning that on the Citadel, a Terminus boy like him will never fit in, anyway- the four eyes see to that.
He will hold a grudge for decades, and it will smoulder, too. Brath can be incredibly petty and keep receipts, and if things don’t go his way, he will make them- for better or for worse.
Tumblr media
LAETITIA PHALIA
A woman with a firm grip of the ins and outs of both her work and her neighbourhood, Phalia is the person to know when you need something, and if you don’t she’ll soon tell you, anyway.
She looks strict, but only when she needs to be. Phalia is just busy! There’s always some charity, pot luck, clawball practise, afterschool homework club, Galactic Scout cookie drive, donation pickup and volunteer work activity happening in her life. Phalia is always doing something, despite a full-time job and being a single parent. She gives and gives, because that’s what she expects people to do, the kind of person who will give you her coat and freeze.
There is only so much of herself she can give away. Phalia has had the very worst happen to her in her life, and she survives by constantly moving, not looking back. She just needs to remind herself from time to time she deserves to be taken care of too, and can rest every now and then. Sometimes Phalia also has a tendency to hold people to the same standards she has, but is getting better at learning the difference.
Tumblr media
DEREK
It's Derek, innit? Just Derek. Not his real name of course, but he thought it sounded fancy. He has a full salarian name, but his clan mostly ignore his existence - except when they want money.
The eponymous Derek has a fairly sweet soul, but it’s one slowly corrupting under a mantle of the music industry and celebrity. He has an addict’s personality, and bounces from fixation from fixation- but music will always remain a constant. He is good at what he does too; his production skills are perceptively complicated, and he is an absolute master at looping and finding rich, interesting samples; there is a reason he is in demand both as a DJ and as a producer.
Derek doesn’t have the best social skills, despite befriending people easily. He’ll pick them up and drop them, and will often self-medicate his mistakes. His ego can get him into trouble too, but finding real friends -and not hangers on- will help him realise he’s not the centre of the universe.
***
(The quiz is [HERE] f you want to see which one you got.)
45 notes · View notes
luca-moreno · 3 years
Text
operation: kio [notes]
some tidbits and general outline (but feel free to alter/massage/throw out as you wish) in one place for easy reference (because we’re all short on time/inspo/sanity)
New Characters:
Hema - Drell smuggler (looks like X hello yes I’m obsessed with this drell dude) not biotic
Kira - Drell smuggler (Hema’s XO/2IC) - she’s older, skin more blue and purple tones than green. mean. biotic.
Hema’s crew - mix of all races inc three batarians, at least two asari commandoes and an ex-STG salarian with a bad attitude. The handful of humans are very young, probably too young to be where they are.
Ships:
UT-47 Kodiak Drop Shuttle (Luca calls it Kodi). Limited FTL travel.
Merkava Ravel - Modified Turian Freighter (Hema’s ship, well armed for a freighter)
Possible Locations:
Nemean Abyss - The Nemean Abyss is a region of space that is further away from the jurisdiction of the Citadel Council than even the anarchistic Terminus Systems. The Abyss is a lawless region, populated by pirates, mercenaries and bounty hunters. In recent years, war between rival krogan warlords has escalated, resulting in several powerful individuals declaring themselves as the one true ‘Pirate King of the Nemean Abyss’. Mercenaries and pirates have used these self-appointed monarchs to their advantage, fueling their conflict while carrying out their own operations throughout the region in secret.
Tortuga (planet) located: Milky Way / Nemean Abyss / Testudo System. Much like the infamous Tortuga of the 17th century, it acts as a place for pirates, thieves, smugglers, and slavers to drink, boast and barter.
Thred'nakka (planet) located: Milky Way / Titan Nebula / Brikhaun System. Thred'nakka is a barren world in the far edge of the galaxy, a haven for desperate individuals seeking to disappear forever. It is a hot, arid world with little in the way of desirable climate, what little water there is being mined from the shrinking poles or deep caverns beneath the dusty surface. 
Illium (planet)/Nos Astra (city) located: Milky Way / Crescent Nebula / Tasale System. Illium is infamous for its abusive labor practices and legalization of nearly everything except murder. It’s the preferred production site for weapons and pharmaceuticals that would be illegal nearly everywhere else, made even more lucrative by legal indentured servitude. Illium is renowned for glamor, luxury, and safety (provided by near-total surveillance), making it a favored tourist destination.
General outline/plot ideas:
Luca, Eva and Ben leave Berlin & rendezvous with the Merkava Ravel 
Luca is told Kio is alive but in hiding due to bounty on his head
Luca offered opportunity to square his brother’s debt by taking on a job for Hema (probably steal credits/tech/object from rival smuggler/mercs/sketchy corporation) – new location/city, stealing, drinking, violence and general shenanigans ensue
Tidbits of note/plot bunnies or whatever to play with or ignore:
Kio bounty may or may not be legitimate 
Hema claims to transport medical supplies for refugees and colonists the council ‘ignores’ - spoiler: he transports people (kids - possible link to Archer’s kids? SSV Berlin catches up? possibilities are endless)
Luca unaware of Hema’s real activities, he’s known Kio and Luca since they were kids on the wards/docks - used them - Luca sees him as ‘good’, trusts him (too much). Will get bullheaded/pissy if told Hema is not A Good Man.
Kio and Hema did not part on good terms (unbeknownst to Luca, Hema will hide this fact)
Hema has particular... tastes. Likes them young and usually human. Grooms them. Was particularly fond of Luca. He's very big, quite charming for a drell. His offsider Kira is ‘the bad cop’. Hema likes to pretend to be the ‘good cop.’
Hema, Kira & crew are all fair game. Kill, maim, fuck, whatever as you will
Kodiak sync’d to Luca’s biometric ‘handprint’ (he’s not letting it get trashed again). if pressed, will claim it’s stolen
no uniforms in sight (altho Luca still has his drones and his kit bc he never leaves the ship without them)
war. paint.
finding Kiosho is not definite but if they do, he won’t be happy to see Luca
again, these are just ideas whatever i had floating around, nothing set in stone but it helps me personally to have something to bounce off/ref back to so idk if it helps you - just ignore if not! have fun!
7 notes · View notes
felassan · 3 years
Note
I don’t have the pics sadly but someone enhanced the background from that shot with Liara and the one in the middle definitely looks like a human in pathfinder armor. The other is a Salarian and the one on the right really looks like Turian. The person suggested y’all 3 pathfinders.
Hello! The one on the left is definitely a Salarian and the middle-most figure reads to me as human (and I can see what they mean about Pathfinder Armor). I’m less clear on the figure on the right, but they could definitely be Turian. Three Pathfinders is an interesting idea. 😃 It’s interesting, in the concept art for this scene that we’d seen previously, figures 3 and 4 in that version of the scene are the silhouettes of Thane and Mordin from the ME2 squad selection screen (presumably because concept art is a mock-up to evoke a certain feel, and those were handy pre-existing assets, rather than because it’s literally meant to represent Thane and Mordin), while figures 1 and 2 are more ambiguous. In the trailer there are 3 figures, not including Liara in the foreground. I guess the question is whether the ones in the trailer are meant to represent specific characters or factions/notions etc, or whether they’re just meant to evoke a teasy-feeling of like ‘a variety of characters, a multi-species crew~~ Mass Effect~~’. 
12 notes · View notes
wafflesrock16 · 4 years
Text
Shakarian AU anyone?
Not sure when/if I’d get to this, but it’s slow at work, so have shadow creature shakarian!
The Abyssal Forest was well named; no light seeped through the canopy of cloying leaves and knotted branches. There was only pitch and oppressive, obsidian darkness. 
Things lurked in the gloom beyond the reach of her torch’s meager flame. The animals were formed differently here. In the realm of eternal shadow, eyes were unnecessary. Creatures with translucent skin and flesh covered sockets that still remembered the shape of orbs crawled upon earth corrupted by roots, or leaped from tree trunks with heavy sounding thuds.
“How do they navigate?” Jane asked Wrex as they continued their plunge into the bowels of the forest. “Are their other senses heightened?”
The krogan made a sound somewhere between a hum and a growl, armored feet weaving through the catacomb of roots and upturned stone. “They can see,” he told her. “Their vision is different from ours. The shaman used to say that they saw people as auroras of blazing color.”
“What do you mean?” Jane frown, hand coming to rest on the pummel of her sword, eyes staring impotently into the maw of black they’d been swallowed by.
“Dunno,” Wrex replied, a shrug in his words. “Instead of shapes, they see your soul. Or something like that.”
“And they know how to stop the Seekers? The Collectors?” Skepticism dripped from her voice like honey. The hallucinations of krogan shaman and half-glimpsed eternities seen by asari matriarchs seemed a thin thread with which to weave any hope. But it was all they had. 
“They’re creatures bred from old magic,” Wrex answered. “You know as much as I do. Maybe more. Since legend says they’re attracted to human voices.”
Jane snorted. Wrex had suggested she sing yesterday. She'd rolled her eyes, declaring that tale a load of shit. But the longer they waded through this earthen tomb, no destination or even plan in place, the more villages were abducted - human, krogan, salarian, asari, volus - no one was safe. 
With a heavy sigh, Jane started to hum, before embracing the absurdity and giving melody and words to the song. Some ballad Tali was fond of - star-crossed lovers or something. 
She repeated the lyrics, consciousness fleeing before her footfalls and the harmony. She didn’t know how long she’d been singing until Wrex’s massive forearm thumped against the leathers covering her chest. 
“What?”
In the dim glow from their torches, Wrex’s sanguine eyes strained against the blackness. “We’re not alone,” he rumbled, hands moving to the colossal battle ax strapped to his back.   
Jane turned to look behind her, finding only the same yawning emptiness as before. 
“I liked your song.” The voice was whiskey smooth and lingered like smoke.
“Show yourself,” Wrex growled, ax brandished at their invisible company. 
Jane gently put a hand on his arm, silently requesting he let her handle the situation. His eyes narrowed into splinters, but at last he nodded. 
“Hello?” Jane called out. “My name is Commander Jane Shepard of the Alliance. With me is Urdnot Wrex of the Krogan Clans. We’re looking for the turians.”
Quiet answered her greeting. She almost wondered if she’d imagined a speaker; mind finally polluted by the forest light forgot. 
“Why are you seeking the turians?” The question whispered across the back of her neck like a phantom breeze, making goose flesh pimple her arms. 
“We need their help,” she managed. “Please. Hear us out.”
For a moment there was no response. Then, the sound of talons scraping against bark - alarmingly close to her person - filled her ears. Shadow sucked up the firelight from her torch though no shape seemed to accompany it. 
“You’re so red,” the voice murmured. 
Jane felt her brows knit together. “What?”
“If I can help you, I will,” the speaker replied instead. “You can call me Garrus.”
47 notes · View notes
makoparkingonly · 4 years
Text
WIP Wednesday
Hello, apparently it’s WIP Wednesday. Here’s a snippet of a James & femShep friendship story I’ve been working on for a while. 
He turns at the sound of the lift descending. They’re in deep space so he knows he’s not gonna need to suit back up. Still, plenty of not-fun reasons someone could be heading down to the cargo bay, but it’s just Shepard. 
“And please, Traynor, for the love of everything don’t tell anyone where I am for at least a few hours. I’m cutting my channel, I don’t want to be bothered until we hit the relay.” 
“Trouble?” James asks as she drops onto her accustomed crate of mines. 
“Wrex is mad about the salarians. Again,” she says. “Which I completely understand, except that this particular salarian,” she waves vaguely upwards in the direction of the medbay, “is only trying to help.” 
“I thought he was gonna get killed before we even landed,” James says. 
Shepard stops sorting through frag grenades for a minute. “What a nightmare that would have been. He’s the only thing keeping those clans working together right now. We lose Wrex, we lose the krogans.” 
“We lose the krogan, we lose the turians too. And all the meat.” 
“Alliances are delicate things.” 
“Kinda like frag grenades,” he says, pointing at the ones in her hands. “Handle them carefully or they go boom.” 
She laughs, just a delicate, quiet little laugh, but James is struck. She was a legend before James ever met her: the first human spectre, hero of the Citadel, risen from the dead, first to go through the Omega 4 relay and return with her entire crew intact. He’d given himself the luxury of hating her for that, for a while, but it had ultimately been a useless feeling. They’d done a lot of living since he came on board. He’s seen her angry, he’s seen her sad, he’s seen her curse bitterly, crouched behind a bulkhead while suppressing fire whizzes past her head. But he’s only just realized he’s never seen her laugh.
7 notes · View notes
love-of-fandoms · 4 years
Text
Don’t Tell Ryder; II: Oh Look! Angara!
Chapter 2 of Dont Tell Ryder (Master List)
Pairing: Evfra de Tershaav + OC
Words: 2948
As Cassiel came off the Tempest, stepping into the sunlight, she made sure her hands were up by her head, visible to the many aliens pointing guns in her direction. They were tall, in the same height range as Turians, while their skin resembled a salarian’s, though more vibrant in color. Cassiel almost stopped short when she made eye contact with one of them, convinced she was looking into a galaxy. She kept moving, however, when she took note of the brow ridge furrowed in hatred just above those eyes… or at least that’s what she assumed the look was, one never knew how facial expressions translated across alien species.
Cassiel was met with a group of helmeted soldiers, speaking among each other as one of them pulled out a scanner. Cassiel nodded at them, unsure if a verbal greeting would be appreciated, and once the alien finished scanning her, they motioned her forward, towards a group of five aliens, a bright blue one standing slightly forward from the others.
“I’m Paaran Shie, governor of Aya,” she, or at least Cassiel assumed they were female, introduced herself, Cassiel’s translator, or more probably SAM, finally picking up the language. “We are the angara,”. Cassiel bowed her head slightly in greeting.
“Hello, I’m Cassiel Ryder, I’m with the Pathfinding team for the Initiative,” she said, craning her neck to look up at the angara, who was naturally already much taller than herself, and up a couple of stairs from her.
“Yes,” she confirmed in monotone. Or was it monotone? Perhaps the translator wasn’t picking up emotional intonation? “You crossed darkspace, I’ve heard of your journey,”. The governor was cut off when a purple angara wearing a blue poncho-like garment quickly strode up to her, turning to face Cassiel. “Jaal, I have this in hand,” the governor said, reaching a hand out to the male, who Cassiel assumed was named Jaal. The angara simply turned his head back to her as he descended the steps.
“Evfra saw the ship come in, and sent me to find out what’s going on,” he explained, slowly stalking down the steps towards Cassiel.
“She’s a human from another galaxy, with the… Pathfinder,” Paaran Shie introduced the woman, who shifted her weight from one side to the other, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear in a display of nerves. It occurred to her that she hadn’t identified her race… perhaps they had been eavesdropping on Initiative transmissions? Not impossible. Or maybe they had run into the Exiles.
“Aya is hidden,” Jaal said as he got in Cassiel’s face, leaning down so his eyes were level with hers. “Protected,” he stressed. “What do you want?”
“We are really sorry about this! We didn’t really want to land on your planet… on fire,” she cringed, her apology sounding pitiful even to her own ears.
“Oh, good,” Jaal said, backing up with a sarcastic demeanor. “Because that would have been a… particularly bad plan,” Cassiel eyes widened as the serious male made a joke. Cassiel gave him a small smile.
“Uh… yeah, yeah it would’ve,” she agreed. Jaal straightened to his full height once more, giving Cassiel a once over before turning back to the governor.
“I’ll inform Evfra, he’ll be waiting for you in his office at the Resistance Headquarters,” he informed, walking back up the steps and continuing the way he came. “I’ll meet you there,”
“I will accompany you through our city,” Paaran Shie said, though by the stress Aya’s governor put on the word accompany, Cassiel knew that Paaran Shie was more of a babysitter. “Your crew will stay on your ship, follow me,” she ordered, turning and beginning to make her way towards wherever this “Resistance Headquarters” was. Cassiel took the order, following at a far enough distance as not to make anyone nervous. When Cassiel reached the top of the stairs, Paaran Shie turned back around to face her. “Follow closely, do not try to explore the city or interact with anyone,” she stressed. “Evfra’s guards will use force if necessary,” Cassiel nodded in understanding.
“Yes, of course, I understand,” Cassiel said as the bright blue woman began to walk again. “Would it be alright if I asked you questions?” she sought, and Paaran Shie sighed.
“I suppose,” she confirmed, and Cassiel smiled slightly, glad that she could at least sate some of her curiosity in the present moment.
“If you’re the governor of Aya, why do I need to see this Evfra person?” she asked.
“He’s the leader of the Resistance,” Paaran Shie answered curtly, not really answering Cassiel’s question. Or perhaps she was, to someone who knew the angara, but Cassiel was completely blind here, figuratively, at least.
“What is The Resistance?” she asked.
“They fight the kett,” Paaran Shie said. “And protect us,” she added as an afterthought. So a sort of military. Cassiel thought.
As they walked down a flight of stairs, a group of what Cassiel assumed were civilians were peering over the shoulders of some guards. There were murmurings of curiosity.
“They should lock it up,” Cassiel heard one say, and she flinched slightly at the hatred in the woman’s words and voice. SAM piped up before Cassiel could dwell further on the comment.
“I detect unusual levels of electro-static energy in the angara,” he said, and Cassiel nodded her head slightly to confirm that she heard him, though he’d likely know anyway.
There were more murmurings from the crowd, many voices fearful. Cassiel looked down, saddened to know that this race was so weary of outsiders, probably because of the Kett. Cassiel was shocked, however, when a large goat-like creature nudged through the crowd to approach her. It was 4 feet tall, standing on all six of its legs, with a long tail and green fur. The way it moved and looked at her with eyes similar to that of the angara reminded Cassiel of a dog, and she instinctively put her hand out for it to sniff. 
She barely noticed the guards tense, raising their guns a little higher in case the alien were to try anything. The creature approached her without fear, sniffing at her hand and then nudging its nose into it. Cassiel smiled softly as the creature rubbed against her hand, getting closer and closer until it was rubbing up against her legs. The crowd gasped, including the guards, seeing this small alien handling a creature with such tenderness. 
Paaran Shie stopped when she noticed her tail was missing, turning to look and gasping inaudibly when she saw the display. Her field let out a pulse of surprised energy, but she tried not to let it show on her face, knowing the Initiative species couldn’t sense bioelectricity.
“Keep up,” she called, and Cassiel snapped her head up, looking embarrassed as she jogged to catch up. She was pleased, however, when the creature followed along next to her, and she rested a hand on its back, lightly stroking the fur there.
“None of the local flora register in my data files,” SAM piped up again, and Cassiel nodded minutely, briefly considering taking out her scanner, but deciding against it. It would likely only agitate the guards, and the last thing she wanted was to get shot because she wanted to know why a plant was glowing. Regardless, Cassiel did some scanning with her eyes, observing the beautiful flora and pretty architecture, nice blue and green awnings protecting the city’s inhabitants from the sun.
“This place is… beautiful,” she said breathlessly as she took in the waterfall they were passing.
“Thank you, you are the first outsider to see it,” Paaran Shie admitted, the thanks sounding awkward.
“I’m truly honored,” Cassiel responded with the same soft smile she had directed towards the creature, and said creature nudged her side a little when she stopped stroking its fur, causing her to continue with the stroking. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry I stopped petting you,” she mumbled, and Paaran Shie’s head tilted.
“What was that?” she asked, and Cassiel blushed.
“Oh… um, I was just apologizing to this… creature, because it didn’t want me to stop petting it,” she said, ducking her head. Paaran Shie surprisingly let out a little chuckle at the adorable little human.
“They are very affectionate creatures,” she said with a shrug, a light smile gracing her face, and Cassiel found that the woman was quite pretty, in her own alien way. 
“This Evfra…” Cassiel paused, thinking of how to phrase her question. “What happens if he doesn’t like me?” she asked, and Paaran Shie scoffed.
“He won’t,” she said. “You will need to earn his trust,” though Aya’s governor didn’t think it would be hard for this little individual to garner the trust of their gruff military leader. Already she was finding it hard to not like the human with a flanjaak glued to her side.
“That’s understandable, he’s responsible for everyone’s safety,” Cassiel confirmed. “I don’t think I’d be able to handle that, which is why I’m glad my brother is the Pathfinder,” she disclosed, deciding a little openness wouldn’t hurt.
“A leader’s burden is no easy burden to bear,” Paaran Shie agreed, nodding. Cassiel gulped as the pair, or trio if you counted the creature, approached a large door, the volume of guards increasing.
“This is the Resistance Headquarters,” Paaran Shie said, turning back to Cassiel. “Evfra should be waiting inside,” Cassiel nodded, taking a deep breath before stepping through the door, which slid shut with a hiss behind her. 
Cassiel was kind of taken back when she saw Jaal walking next to another soldier, his voice raised slightly. 
“-this situation is now your fault! Don’t get kicked out Maraan, not because of them!” he urged, Cassiel flinching at his hard tone, even though it wasn’t directed at her. The soldier by his side turned to him sharply.
“But you’re telling me to be weak!” he protested.
“No,” Jaal reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder. “I’m telling you to be strong, through your cunning and heart,” he said, before turning and noticing Cassiel awkwardly staring at him. He did a double take when he noticed the creature by her side. He shook his head slightly, turning back to the man. “Okay?” the man nodded, turning to walk out before Jaal called after him. “Hey!” the man turned back, his shoulders slumped, and handed Jaal a modified Kett rifle.
“It really is the best one in the Resistance,” he said, and Jaal nodded.
“I know,” the man turned to walk off, slowing and staring as he passed Cassiel, the woman smiling shyly up at him, fidgeting nervously. She approached Jaal now that he was no longer preoccupied.
“Our experience with the Kett makes us naturally distrustful of aliens,” he said, and Cassiel nodded.
“I can see that, and I understand, we’ve had our own run-ins with the Kett,” she said, and Jaal paused, seemingly surprised that the angara weren’t the only one fighting the Kett.
“Then you really do understand,” he said softly. “When the Archon came to Heleus, he demolished our sovereign state, took what he wanted as if we were nothing,” he told her, his face taking on a fiercely passionate expression. “Now, the Kett mercilessly abduct angara. Oten we never see our people again,” he took a breath before straightening his back. “Come this way, Evfra is waiting,” Cassiel was surprised by the complete 180 as he began walking and motioned for her to follow.
“Wait-the Kett kidnap you? Steal your people?” she gasped in shock. It was one thing to be killed in a skirmish, but they were aiming to abduct them? Their goal was to take prisoners? It was sick.
“And the Resistance fights them everyday, with everything we have,” Jaal said proudly.
“But what are they even after?” Cassiel asked, confused as to why the Kett would just take prisoners but make no demands for something in exchange for their release. Jaal sighed.
“You should save your questions for Evfra,” he said, and Cassiel nodded in understanding. They came into a control room, monitors covering most of the walls, and a male stood leaned against a desk by the window, speaking into a communicator.
“Kadara be damned, I won’t lose Voeld!” he growled, and Jaal cleared his throat.
“Evfra, this is one of the aliens from the MEElky Way, a human with the Pathfinder team,” he introduced, and Cassiel giggled a bit at his pronunciation of Milky way, unable to help herself. It just didn’t sound natural coming from his mouth. The male turned to face her, a harsh glare on his face, however it softened when he made eye contact with her.
Evfra was shocked to see the flanjaak happily standing at the human’s side. He was even more shocked by the field it was emitting, an aura of such happiness and affection that Evfra almost stumbled. The human had laughed softly when Jaal said the name of her galaxy, and Evfra had to admit the sound was… pleasing… in its own way. The flanjaak’s tail wagged as Evfra stood and walked closer to the human, leaning down to look her in the eyes.
Cassiel was gaping at the blue male, eyes involuntarily scanning his form. Tall… While all the angara were tall, he appeared to be taller than average, towering over a foot and a half over herself. She was snapped back to reality when the creature that had been following her nuzzled into her shoulder.
“Oh! Right! I’m… uh… my name is Cassiel Ryder, with the Andromeda Initiative,” she stuttered out an introduction, face blazing red. The male gave her no visible reaction, though Cassiel noticed a couple of the other angara in the room looking at her funny.
Evfra’s field let out a burst of affectionate confusion at the tiny, embarrassed creature as she stuttered her way through introducing herself. He ignored Jaal’s teasing field at his reaction, straightening up.
“And why are you on Aya, Cassiel Ryder?” he asked, and Cassiel straightened up slightly, trying to make herself taller so she didn’t feel so tiny with this giant crouched in front of her.
“Well, we were, uh, headed to the Osnian system and we ended up flying directly into the path of a Kett fleet. My brother, the Pathfinder, he’s the head of the ship, ended up talking to some important Kett with a demented halo who forced his way through our comms, and our pilot was able to get us through some scourge field and we ended up here… on fire,” she rambled, trailing off at the end with a flinch. “Which is why we really needed to land, so uh… thanks for at least letting us land so our engineer can get started on repairs,” she said, and Evfra’s eyes widened at her thanks, though he carried on.
“Aya has remained hidden for decades, I refuse to believe you found it by accident,” he pressed, and Cassiel paused as SAM spoke.
“There appears to be a working vault on this planet, I was able to plot our course based on the map your brother found in the vault on Eos,” he told her, and Cassiel rolled with it.
“We were able to plot a course here because of some sort of map we found on Eos… my brother activated a vault of some kind that healed?” she paused, trying to think of a better word to use but coming up blank. “ The planet… I think that would be the right term… radiation levels have decreased and the water is potable now.” she explained, and Evra rose a brow ridge in the universal expression of scepticism. 
“Your brother… activated a vault?” he repeated, and Jaal spoke up.
“That is consistent with reports we’ve been getting from the area,” he confirmed, and Cassiel nodded.
“Yes! You see, we, the Initiative, are trying to find a home in this galaxy, and in order to do that we need to activate more vaults so more planets are viable for life!” she explained, knowing that if they asked her to speak science or technobabble she was screwed. “ We think your vault here could provide insight if we could see it?” she ended tentatively, and was immediately shot down.
“No,” Evfra immediately said with a scowl, and Cassiel pouted unconsciously, tilting her head.
“Why?” she asked, and Evfra just sighed with a shake of his head.
“We don’t trust you,” he said curtly, and Cassiel went silent for a moment, pensive. The creature, who had been relatively calm until this point, sat down on her feet and started to push against her legs, and Cassiel was reminded of a golden retriever her family used to have. He would do the same thing, just wanting pats, so Cassiel reflexively squatted down as the creature went onto its back, giving his belly some rubs.
All the angara in the room, Evfra included, gaped at the human with wide eyes. Her legs… How did her legs do that?! It was unnatural. 
The creature gave Cassiel a happy hum, and Evfra cleared his throat. Cassiel gasped, shooting back up to stand, tucking a piece of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.
“Sorry!” she apologized, smiling shyly. “They’re just so… cute!” she giggled, and Evfra’s field let out that odd feeling of affectionate confusion. Jaal snorted at the General’s field, shooting a smirk in his direction, and the leader’s scowl only deepened.
“Besides, the vault is currently sealed, and we cannot open it,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The Moshae could,” Jaal piped up, ignoring Evfra’s glare.
“The Moshae?” Cassiel asked.
Next Chapter
15 notes · View notes
smolbiotic · 5 years
Link
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Original Turian Character(s), Original Female Turian Character(s), Original Male Turian Character(s), Original Salarian Character(s), Original Female Salarian Character(s) Additional Tags: Punk, Turian Punk, Alien punk Series: Part 1 of RELiCTA Summary:
Alien punk rock? Alien punk rock! Noya is a turian with enough attitude to power a sun and when she takes the stage, she will own you and you'll love her for it. Come say hi to RELiCTA in the 776.
Alternatively:  Hello and welcome to my strange corner of Omega where turians wear plaid pants and fishnet tops and also sing sexy punk songs with crude titles.
8 notes · View notes