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halos-top-alien-model · 7 months

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Sangheili Bracket Round 1 Match 19

More info below:

Thel 'Vadam / The Arbiter:

Debuted in Halo 2

Born Dec. 10th, 2485, he-

You do not need me to write a five page breakdown on one of Halo's top five characters.

Tam 'Lakosee:

Debuted in Halo: Silent Storm

Serving as a steward of Fleetmaster Nizat 'Kvarosee within the Fleet of Inexorable Obedience, he would take part in the earliest years of the Human-Covenant war. As the fleet glassed Etalan in March 2526, he escorted First Blade Tel 'Szatulai of the Silent Shadow to Pious Rampage's bridge, where 'Szalutai would present a message from the United Rebel Front. In order for the Minor Minister of Artifact Survey to understand the message, Tam was sent to retrieve a translation disk - although, Nizat would gesture for him to take his time doing so. The fleet would then travel to Biko for more glassing, and Tam would once again escort 'Szatulai to meet Nizat and the Minor Minister regarding the Insurrectionists. Later, upon devastating defeat at the Battle of Zhoist, Tam would kill the Minor Minister as the San'Shyuum berated Nizat. His fleetmaster would have the body incinerated and the cause of death covered up in order to protect him. He would continue to follow Nizat as Silent Shadow and the Fleet of Swift Justice sought to kill the fleetmaster, aiding in a plan to bait ONI with a stolen Luminal Beacon. They would attempt this plan at Netherop / N'ba, only to end up stranded there.

For 33 years, Tam would survive as one of Nizat's loyal followers - now called the Defenders of the Sanctum, led by Worldmaster Nizat - thanks to the discovery of Precursor technology that gave them food, water, special armor, and a great weapon they called the Divine Hand. Then, in late 2559, Arbiter Thel 'Vadam, Spartan Olympia Vale, and their respective forces would land on Netherop / N'ba looking for said weapon. As the two groups met the similarly stranded Lieutenant Commander Amalea Petrov and her forces - who the stranded Sangheili had been locked in constant fighting with over the years - the Defenders of the Sanctum would approach via a tunnel made with their Precursor technology. They would successfully abduct the civilian Rosa Fuertes. On the journey back, Thel and his remaining stranded allies would catch up and attempt to negotiate. They would first hear him out, only to react in denial that the Covenant was a lie and the galaxy had changed, launching into hostiles. However, a sudden explosion would make the Defenders realize that Vale had used the Arbiter as a diversion to sneak past them and reach the Divine Hand. They would retreat to go deal with the invading humans, only to have their numbers reduced to just Nizat and Tam - 'Ra'ashai defecting to the Arbiter's side. Tam would negotiate with Thel and Vale, helping them with the Divine Hand in exchange for mercy for Nizat - who had been critically injured - but this would quickly go sideways as the Banished and Forerunner ships arrived. As the Arbiter attempted to deal with his enemies, Tam would take hold of the weapon and cause all of the ships in orbit be destroyed, with some Banished surviving to pose a threat to everyone stranded. Nizat and Tam would be abandoned in their temple as the Divine Hand was taken from them, with it the "blessings" turning to ruin. However, in order to spare his dear leader from learning of this, Tam would choose to mercifully kill him.

#halo #halo sangheili #sangheili #halo aliens #halo elite #halo elites #halo fandom #halo tumblr #tumblr bracket #tumblr tournament #thel vadam #thel 'vadam #the arbiter #halo arbiter #tam lakosee #tam 'lakosee #thel vadamee

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itsjustsomewordsforyou · 2 years

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Introducing Jay

So I decided that some of the things I’ve written for a D&D campaign I’m in should maybe get to see the light of day beyond a lonely google doc - Here’s the first bit of writing I ever did for my OC James “Jay” Marina, a tiefling rogue who grew up in a gang in a southern port city known as Etalan.

*NOTE: While Jay is my character, the world that he lives in belongs to the one and only @aliencircus, resident DM and all around asshole (affectionate).

Without further ado, here he is:

Jay was left on the shore of a small marina (1175, Sun’s Reign) just out of the water’s reach and found by a sailor early in the morning. He was taken to the local orphanage, which balked initially at taking him in. They did reluctantly accept, as they couldn’t find a justifiable reason not to under the law.

He was given the last name Marina to signify where he was found. He was also left with a small, round pendant with the initial “J” on it, from which he derived the name James when he got older.

The other kids at the orphanage had just as much reluctance to interact with James as the adults did, though it wasn’t softened by sugarcoating. With typical child-like bluntness, Jay was excluded from almost all social aspects of the orphanage. It didn’t help that the caretakers running the place held no sympathy for him either.

At six, deciding the outside world must be better, James ran away from the orphanage, only to be found (luckily or not) by Alessio, the leader of one of the fringe gangs in the city. The gangs were violent only with each other, preferring to keep bystanders out of their business, which was one of illegal trade and smuggling.

1185, Green Wake

Ow, ow, fuck.

“What happened this time, Jamsey-boy?” A voice called.

Damn. Out of all people, why Renzo? James diverted his path down the pier, trying to sidestep both Renzo and his humiliation. He must’ve had bad footwork, though, because he couldn’t manage to avoid either tonight.

“Pick a fight with a cobblestone again?” Renzo taunted, his leering face swimming into Jay’s vision through the haze of blood and pain.

“No, funk ‘ove,” James said, trying to tone down his newly nasal voice. His right hand held a mess of dirty cloth to his bleeding nose, so he used his left to shove Renzo out of his way. James stalked over to the edge of the pier and glanced down. Soon he’d have to remove his bundle of bloody disgustingness and check the damage he’d been dealt this time. So stupid. He should have checked before taking the back way. Now all he had was a broken nose and few less coins to show for it. He wondered idly if his nose would just fall off if he kept managing to take every hit to the face.

Jay learned invaluable skills in hand-to-hand combat, self defense and stealing from his fellow gang members. However, because of his heritage, James was still an outcast of sorts within the gang. The only person to seek out interaction with him was Alessio, and it wasn’t in a friendly way. As James got older, Alessio sought to use him as an intimidation tactic for their rivals, but never treated him as an equal. James still has mixed feelings about Alessio’s manipulations and abuses, as he still sees Alessio as someone who took him in when no one else would.

1188, First Frost

“Jay,” Alessio’s voice was warm around the single syllable. “I was hoping to talk to you.”

“Me?” Jay asked. Alessio’s mouth snaked into an amused smile, head tilting a bit as he studied James. It made James feel a little like meat on the butcher’s rack, with hungry eyes of customers searching for their next meal.

“You,” Alessio said. “You are an extraordinary being, you know that, don’t you, Jay? You’re… different. Special.” At this he towered over all of Jay’s thirteen-year-old gangly five-and-change feet. Not menacingly, though, just… there.

“I’m not sure I would describe it that way,” James told him, surprised. Usually people described it as more of a curse. Or an abomination. Sometimes if they were feeling really clever it was something along the lines of ‘a horrid scourge upon the earth put here by the devil to corrupt men’s hearts’. Jay was rather fond of that one.

“The eye of the beholder, my dear James,” Alessio waved off this topic with a flick of his fingers and moved on, making a 180 to find his way to the cabinet James knew held Alessio’s stolen liquors. “I want you to do something for me.”

“And what’s that?”

“Old man Salvatore won’t pay up. Go to his house, make him,” Alessio delivered his order nonchalantly, drink already half poured.

“Make him?” James asked. Alessio stilled, letting the liquor bottle bang to the table top. He swiveled slowly.

“I’m sorry, was that part not clear?” There was something dangerous in his voice. Jay flinched and then cursed himself for it.

Alessio’s eyes narrowed. “I said, make him. Use those useless devil horns of yours and promise him hell in the afterlife or whatever-the-fuck. Unless they’re taking up too much space in your brain to think?”

James shook his head. “Yes, sir.” He didn’t want to scare the old man but risking Alessio’s temper was worse. He still felt twinges in his jaw when he chewed, from the bottle Alessio had smashed into his head last time he’d been a little too soft on someone.

Alessio’s smile returned with a vengeance, warm again, falsely gentle.

“That’s my boy.”

To keep the gang afloat, Jay worked jobs like all the other members. Mostly smuggling and pickpocketing. Despite what should have been promised protection from the gang in return, however, Jay often found himself the victim of muggings or attacks. He learned quickly never to turn his back on a dark alley.

When he was fourteen (1189), James met a girl, roughly his age, named Elena, who was the daughter of a merchant in the city. She was one of the few people that managed to see past his heritage and Elena became the closest to a friend that James had ever had. Not even a year into their friendship, Elena’s merchant father was discovered to be involved in corrupt dealings with one of the inner city gangs. To keep him quiet, the gang brutally murdered the entire family and left their bodies on a busy street the next morning as a warning. When James attempted to attend Elena’s funeral, he was barred entrance.

1190, Mid Year

“Let me in! Fuck you! Let me in, she was my friend, too! She was my friend…” James kicked and thrashed, a wild animal howl of rage and grief tearing itself from his chest as the guards heaved him bodily away from the doors to the Church, where Elena’s extended family entered, gawking at the scene in horror.

Jay hit the ground roughly as the guards tossed him like a sack of potatoes: with little care and great distaste.

“I don’t think so, you little monster,” One of them said, spitting. He just missed Jay’s face, but Jay couldn’t care less. Now that he was off his feet, he found he had little motivation to return to them. Sensing the fight was over, the guards regained their post and poise at the door. James stayed on the ground.

Elena was gone. Elena was gone? No, no that couldn’t be right. But he’d heard the news on the tongues of people who were there. He’d seen the artist’s rendition of the gruesome scene in the paper. Felt the truth in his bones when he’d broken into her shattered, bloody house and seen the destruction first hand. Elena was gone. His only friend, murdered, killed in cold blood. And for what? Her father’s mistake. A stupid mistake.

James had only wanted to see her one last time, to say goodbye, that was all. But the only thing he saw was the looks of disgust on his fellow mourner’s faces before the Church doors boomed shut with a bone-chilling echo of finality.

Goodbye, Elena, he thought. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.

Distraught, Jay buried himself in smuggling jobs during the day and the vibrant Underground at night. With the ability to escape through drink, drugs, sex and more, the Underground held appeal for many of the city’s less savory types. James still struggles with memories he doesn’t want to remember, and ones he can’t.

Outside of the Underground, James found himself becoming more ruthless during his jobs, and Alessio’s ordered intimidation tactics. Frightened of who he was becoming, he knew he had to get out. When Jay was nearing 17 (1193) Alessio came to him with an order for a larger smuggling job. Alessio allocated money and resources to complete it, but seeing his chance, James instead took the money and fled north on a ship along the western coast.

#ahhhh #jay is my Actual Child i'm so excited to post about him??#I have way too much written about my boy #this is also like #almost 3 years old?#OC #original character #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #writing #prose #jay #james marina

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satinea · 5 years

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Etalans une fresque élaborée par l'artiste Pierre Duc et réalisée à l’initiative de l’Association Nationale du Cheval de Trait Comtois. Cet immense cheval comtois célèbre un double centenaire : celui de la naissance de l'Association nationale du Cheval de Trait Comtois et celui de l’apparition du maillot jaune pour distinguer le leader du Tour de France. (à Étalans) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bz2V5N_oaKfmpmLjJ8DwbY-qviMNIIkjABQvDg0/?igshid=etv7li4oahme

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miles-superus-117 · 5 years

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“That's a four rank jump, sir.”

Marmon Crowther: [...] After what you did at Seoba and Etalan, you deserve these—and you deserve the full ceremony, on the bridge of the largest ship in the fleet. But... that's not what you're getting. There are going to be some very experienced Black Daggers in your group wondering why you're in command and they aren't, so we need to act now. This will remind them it's because I said so.

John-117: Sir... That's the rank insignia of a Master Chief Petty Officer.

Marmon Crowther: I'm aware of that, John. I couldn't find anything without a space assault rating, but what the heck... we're all special ops.

John-117: That's a four rank jump, sir.

Marmon Crowther: And I'm going to catch ten kinds of hell for it from FLEETCOM. Maybe even from Admiral Cole. But he's the one who told me to do whatever's needed... and this is needed.

--- Halo: Silent Storm

#master chief #john 117 #halo #novel #halo silent storm

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hexaconto · 2 years

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Choisir son expert-comptable à Etalans - 6 critères incontournables

Choisir son expert-comptable à Etalans – 6 critères incontournables

La région de Etalans compte moins de 10 experts-comptables. En tant qu’entrepreneur, dirigeant ou créateur, cela vous fait donc autant de possibilités pour choisir l’expert-comptable adéquat qui vous

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#Localisations

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bomberqueen17 · 7 years

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I just found this text document that hadn’t been opened since 2007 in a forgotten folder on my hard drive while I was looking for something else.

It’s a scrap of the novel I started in 2004.

Talus pushed his way through the door of his father's apartment, only pausing when he realized that the fire was burning very low in the central hearth. "Father?" he said.

"A moment," Galjis said from the back room, and Talus occupied himself building the fire back up. It was too cold out to let the fire die down this low. He wondered where Ilona was, that the fire had been allowed to get this bad. When Galjis appeared in the blanket-hung doorway, Talus looked up, and jerked his head at the fire.

Galjis said nothing, but beckoned, and Talus left it and came in with him. Oh, he realized. Ilona was not here, so Galjis was alone. It was intentional. He was suddenly nervous. What could be so important that neither Ilona nor Aleite could be here?

He cleared his throat, and took the seat Galjis gestured toward. Galjis sat with his hands on his knees, regarding him. When enough silence had elapsed that Talus drew breath to ask what was wrong, Galjis finally spoke.

"Tell me everything you know about Kadjis," he said.

Talus stared blankly. Kadjis. "Kadjis," he said, trying to buy time. It was a name, surely.

"Come now," Galjis said, "speak. I know you cannot be entirely ignorant." Talus nodded. "Kadjis," he said. "Liv." It was surely a Liv name. "Ah, the son of Kouris. That missing child. Why does no one speak of him?" He had puzzled over this before and had resolved to look more in depth into it, but his most obvious source had proven oddly reticent on the topic. "I asked Captain Mats about it. He would not speak of it. Mai seemed upset when I asked. I admit that is the sum of my knowledge."

Galjis rubbed his hands along his thighs, letting them come to rest just above his knees again, and nodded very slowly. Talus swallowed uneasily: the man was displeased.

"Tell me what you have learned of Domiane," Galjis said at last.

Talus accepted the change of subject and nodded, composing his thoughts. "He is very powerful among the borderland Coronians," he said. "I believe he has some kind of connection to the Etalans, somehow, and this is worrying. He is a staunch opponent of Saxeus. It seems to me that he would rather supplant the Saxean alliance with a fresh one with the Etalans, and perhaps even aid them against Saxeus. Which strikes me as a daring gambit at best; less charitably I would call it lunacy. But he is not strong enough to do it, I deem; he could certainly not afford to favor his Coronians over us. Still he spoke to me almost openly of breaking with Saxeus."

"That is heavy," Galjis said.

"That's what I thought," Talus said, a little reassured.

"He's probably right," Galjis went on.

That stopped Talus cold, and he licked his lips, running his teeth over the lower one and trying to look thoughtful rather than shocked. "What makes you say that?" he asked in a moment.

"What is the latest you've heard out of Saxeus?" Galjis asked mildly.

Talus cast about, off-balance. "Ah, my last report was from Martins," he said. "Yes. He was there just before the launch of his last patrol. He reported nothing of substance: they are well-supplied for winter, good trade news, relatively little unrest on their borders, decent terms in the last trade agreement with the Etalans. He seemed unaware of any great degree of unrest between Saxeus and Etala at present."

"Martins," Galjis said, and bowed his head as if gathering himself for an unpleasant thought. This was suspicious, and Talus regarded him keenly. He had never heard Galjis sound anything less than fond when discussing Martins, to the point of suspecting the man of inordinate favoritism. It was impossible to resent Martins, so honest and loving and open, but Talus had considered it a time or two. Galjis had spent their childhoods demanding extraordinary performances out of Martins, and receiving them with irritating perfection. Martins was a golden boy, tall and beautiful and inordinately lovable, and Talus was not, and that was all there was to it.

"I know he is not the best source of gossip," Talus said, "but he is far from a simpleton. If Saxeus had any real issue with Etala at present he would certainly have heard of it. His connections within the army there in particular are very good. They would not leave him uninformed."

"Yes," Galjis said slowly. "He is very friendly with many of the army officers there." But it did not sound like such a good thing coming from him. Which was inexplicable; Talus had long known to trust no-one, but of all the places in the world to cast suspicion, he had never found his twin brother to be a good place for it to stick.

"He has worked closely with them for a long time," Talus said cautiously. But Galjis was deep in thought again, and seemed to be pondering another subject already.

"Tell me," he said, and his head was bent until his chin nearly rested upon his chest. "Tell me what it would mean to you if Kadjis were discovered not to be dead."

Talus struggled to wind his attention back to that topic. His father's changes of subject were the more unnerving because they were not entirely changes of subject. Somehow, all of these questions were, in Galjis's mind, all on the same topic. And Talus would be expected to figure out how they connected. He licked his lips again and considered it.

"It would mean that the Livs have a chieftain again," Talus said, "but there are so few of them left now. Would it make a difference?"

"There are more of them than you would think," Galjis said, "and they have more powerful friends than you would expect. Tell me, Talus, what it would mean to you, as my son, as my heir, if Kadjis were to surface now."

Talus considered that. "The Livs are dispersed among our people," he said, a little bewildered. "If they wanted to return their loyalty to their chieftain... why, I do not see how it could happen, unless they all wanted to pull up and relocate back down to their ancestral lands."

"Son," Galjis said, and it was never really a good sign when he called one of his sons that, "it means there are a large number of subjects within your homeland that would abandon their loyalty to you in favor of another, with little prompting. If you should prove to be a good and wise and infallible leader, this may never be an issue. But if you should ever be forced to make an unpopular decision-- and you will, son, you will-- it means that people have an alternative to you, without feeling that they are in open rebellion. It means that there is another who could easily win their hearts from you. It means you are not safe."

Talus considered that, and finally brought himself to ask: "What is it that you have heard about Kadjis, to lead you down this line of questioning?" He was still struggling, with a sinking sense of dread, to figure out how Domiane and Saxeus fit into this.

"Whose side would Saxeus take, do you think?" Galjis asked, ignoring his question. "Should a successor to the Liv chieftaincy arise, and challenge you for the leadership of this by now inextricably combined people, who do you think the Saxeans would support?"

Talus opened his mouth, then closed it. "I don't suppose it's me, is it," he said, a little crestfallen. He had never even thought to question it.

"Think of your history," Galjis said mildly. "Who was it who first allied themselves to the Saxeans? We were still rampaging, pillaging nomads, remember."

"The Livs were the first to become allied to the Saxeans," Talus said a little woodenly. "The alliance with the Letts came later, and they were the go-betweens who introduced us to the Saxeans."

"Yes," Galjis said.

"Please," Talus said, "please tell me what you have heard about this Kadjis."

"I have heard nothing," Galjis said, as if surprised by the question. "Nothing more than the usual rumblings which I have heard off and on for twenty years now."

"Then why this conversation now?" Talus asked.

Galjis sighed heavily. "I had hoped you might have heard more," he said.

Talus shook his head. He was not yet fully informed of all Galjis's spy networks; it was unlikely that he would ever hear anything so sensitive before Galjis did. So Galjis could not possibly be truly hoping for new information out of him. "Where would the boy have been all this time?" Talus asked. "He would be-- he would be grown now."

"He would be your age," Galjis said. "Within a couple of months."

Talus licked his lips again, considering that. "Old enough, then," he said.

"Old enough to claim an inheritance," Galjis said. "Old enough even to claim vengeance."

"He would want vengeance upon the Coronians," Talus said cautiously. "Which would be a problem, as we have been doing so well in our relations with them of late."

"Yes," Galjis said, in a tone of voice that suggested that this was not the entirety of the case. Talus tried to puzzle out the rest.

"Do you think this Kadjis would seek alliance with Saxeus against us? Would we have to choose between the Livs and the Coronians?" Talus knew he was flailing a little. He tried to sound calm and mildly curious. But Galjis would not bring this up as a simple exercise in wariness, would he?

"Some of the Livs blame us, you know," Galjis said, as if he were commenting on the weather. "I know I have never spoken to you of this but surely you have managed to wring more of the details of the attack out of someone by now."

It took a supreme effort of will not to grimace. "I did," Talus said carefully, neutrally, "hear it said that there are those who feel that you, as the captain of the southern region, failed in your duties upon the Coronian border, and should have been able to prevent the slaughter entirely. I have heard such a rumor but could not give it a great deal of credit at face value."

"It is true," Galjis said. "Your mother was very pregnant with you and I had snuck home, despite reports of Coronian raiders massing on their border. I was remiss. I realized my mistake too late."

Talus could think of no answer, and instead risked a look at Galjis. The older man had turned his head, and while his voice had not faded his face now looked like old granite, cold and weathered in deep lines. The shock of the realization that this was truth took away all of the words Talus had been groping for. In a moment the only thing Talus could seize upon was the singular form of "you". "Pregnant with me," he said. "Not us."

Galjis did not blink, but in a moment he took a breath, and nodded. "Tell me you have had the perspicacity to puzzle that out," he said.

"Martins is not my twin," Talus said. He had suspected it a long time. The boy was too different. Those green eyes, the broad shoulders, the long legs, even the easy laugh, those had not come from the same dam that had produced Talus. Talus barely remembered the long-dead woman, but it was not hard to figure it out. "But he is your son. He looks like you. I thought him illegitimate." He paused, shocked at his own daring in saying it aloud, but slightly pleased at how calm he had managed to sound. But Galjis said nothing, and Talus had to muster the courage now to meet his eyes.

Galjis's eyes were in shadow, difficult to make out, but that did not make it easier to look him in the face. Talus tried desperately to look noncommittal. "He has your mouth," he said. "He must be your son." There was a blank space in his mind where a thought was about to make a connection and kept refusing to make it. He could not draw the conclusion.

After a long moment Galjis laughed. "He is my sister's son," he said.

Talus's mind went automatically back through the family tree. Galjis only had one sister. Vaering. Killed. Wife of... "Kouris's wife," Talus said, and he could no longer refuse to make the connection. He thought of his brother's face, of Martins's open honest laugh, so incongruous with Galjis's mouth that had never been honest in its life, and his odd foreign green eyes. "Kadjis," he tried to say, but his voice had died.

"Yes," Galjis said. "Martins is Kadjis. I pulled him from under his mother's dead body and gave him a new name and a new life."

"He can't possibly know," Talus said. His lips were numb. His lips, his mouth that were his only resemblance with his supposed twin. Martins had not an ounce of guile in him. But Martins was Kadjis. And Kadjis was a dangerous threat.

"As far as I can tell, despite Mats's influence, Martins has no idea," Galjis said.

"Mats knows," Talus said.

"Of course he does. Mai is the boy's aunt. They both know. I swore them to secrecy." Galjis rubbed his hands along his thighs again, and then suddenly pushed himself to his feet.

"Were you going to tell him?" Talus asked.

"I had not decided, then," Galjis said. "I knew even then how dangerous he could be. But what choice did I have? My sister's boy."

"Are you going to tell him?" Talus persisted.

"No," Galjis said, in a moment. "No," he repeated. "You are."

#i called it the Barbarians Novel #that's the best title i managed #but i wrote half a million words for it #in a year #i rewrote it in first person #expressly to throw it out and re-rewrite it in third #to teach myself POV #and this was a late draft #but i learned a lot i tell you what

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