embittered

[embittered]

hate when i’m trying to edit a draft and tumblr decides it wants to post it. 

[embittered]

AWKEND.

                          THEY WERE BUT PASSING RUMOURS IN THE BEGINNING ,   vague whisperings of something taking down the vilest of individuals  &  mercenaries from the shadows of omega.   little if any clues were found in the aftermaths  ;   a clean sniper shot to the head  ,  a civilian witness account speaking of hearing a distant buzzing like that of a large insect.    one lucky escapee hysterical in the aftermath babbled nonsensically about being flung by green biotics.    then there were the two or so unconfirmed sightings of a collector.    it wasn’t long before a bounty was put out.

it was beyond pathetic ,  ilyan muses from their shadowy outcrop ,  when there were far greater matters to attend  ;   such as total galactic annihilation.   a rasped sigh without breath escapes them ,  collector sniper held firm  &  aimed   —   a single shot fired.   all that is needed to take down the distant batarian who’d escaped them two days ago.   simple  &  easy   —   or so they thought.

❝ hold it there ! ❞     blue suns spill from the darkness ,  guns cocked in unsteady hands ready to unleash a rain of bullets should their target so much as blink.    the clear leader of this little unit of ten or so ,  some middle aged human ,  approached with shotgun primed.    ❝ surrender ,  collector.   or don’t.   either way there’s a pretty price on your head dead or alive. ❞

ire sears beneath chitinous plates  &  what is left of a fractured soul ,  threatening to spill forth  &  engulf all whom dared confront them.    instead ,  ilyan drops their sniper to the dirt  &  rises to stand slowly.    claws curling ever so ,  flecks of emerald light creeping between crevices.    turning on bare heel they are met with the threat of a surge of firepower.    ❝ i am no collector - ❞    the calm before the storm unleashed ,  no greater insult named ,  a tidal wave of biotics tears through bullets  &  armour sending enemies flying.     ❝ i am prothean ! ❞

Collected footfalls. The sounds of armour scraping, the clean, metallic click as guns were reloaded. He’d been fitted with a new translator, one that was commonly bestowed unto Alliance soldiers so, while he didn’t know all of the languages that bobbled around contemporary galactic space, he could at least understand what these people were babbling on about.

“This way,” one hushed.

Javik used the shadows cast, thick and veiling, by nearby walls and structures to his advantage. Call it mood-lighting, call it shitty power supplies, the lights around this area were dim at best. It made concealing himself much, much easier. 

He followed the mercenaries slowly, shotgun prepped. Each turn they took, each alley they surged down, it followed more-or-less the directions he’d been handed. Scalping off slices of conversation, Javik learnt that these mercenaries were after exactly the same target as he. Good.

He went to step forwards but halted his motion. They’d all stopped. And by the way they’d primed their guns, he could only presume they’d found their target. A small squabble followed but one measly little sentence pierced through his mind like a hot knife.

I am prothean.

I am prothean.

They remembered. Regardless of how in-depth these memories were, scuttling amid each crevice, each wrinkle of their brain — or whatever Reaper tech they had to replace such — Javik found that wisp of hope became a roaring inferno; hot and lashing.

Javik leapt from the shield of shadows. A thick halo of emerald shrouded his form, feeling heat well in the pit of his belly as he mustered power, malice. An upward swing of his arm was all that was needed to send half of the Blue Suns, now sprawled haplessly upon the floor by the collector’s first biotic sweep, skyward once more.

One that had since scrambled to his feet — a human boy not much older that 21 sol years, hands quaking — fired his pistol at him, shudders steering it right off course. Javik lunged forth. “Fuck off, human,” he hissed in English, the boy’s own tongue, before forcing the tip of the barrel of his shotgun betwixt a wet maw that dared try to defy him.

He pulled the trigger.

Gore painted the wall as limbs became laden with death, collapsing into a cluttered heap. Javik turned to the remainder, shotgun cocked, verdant biotics crawling over armour, skin, and carapace alike. 

[embittered]

@awkend​.

Born an asteroid rich in element zero, what was currently known as Omega was briefly mined by his people. Their attempts eventually quelled and they were forced to abandon it due to the thickness of its crust, nigh impenetrable — with the exception of little exposure sites here and there. Many, many years later: another asteroid plunged itself rough and hard against Omega, breaking it in half and unveiling the trove of element zone for convenient, easy mining. It spurred many a kind to flock, some calling this broken mess of a rock their home.

It was a shithole, for lack of better terms. Many were simply born in its bloodied cradle, grew up knowing little more than that around them. Violence and bulbous egos became second nature — after all, it was that or perish. Those that strived to help became hunted for daring shake the status quo. 

And that was why he was here. A rumour, a whisper carried over time and space itself — of a collector. But not just any collector; a single, lone collector, one that seemed to be driven by some sense of altruism rather than of altered mind. Javik had to admit: curiosity flickered like candlelight, small yet bright, daresay hopeful. The very concept of collectors spurred dull heartache, woe plucking the strings of blood and muscle to a sombre tune. If he could do anything for this cycle, it was to prevent them becoming the new generation of collectors.

Javik waited until the SSV Normandy SR-2 had docked on Omega’s station. Then swiftly, curtly he demanded rights of disembark unto Omega — one that Shepard permitted. So disembark he did.

He could feel plenty of eyes boring into his carapace from each which way. The sounds of weaponry cocked, the confusion, the ... malice. He ignored them. Meanwhile, everything he touched, everything skin skimmed, all he could read was sweat and suffering, blood and pain; mortal struggle. It became so commonplace that he had to refrain from reaching out and touching railings, even out of instinct. Some people approached him, tried to talk to him, but he kept on walking.

He had a place to be, after all. Apparently that whence this collector had last been seen.

[embittered]

would anyone here b interested in plotting w javik? 👉👈 like this post and i’ll plop myself in ur dms!

[embittered]

a quick javik! i tried to do a different pose and it didn’t quite work in my favour………

[embittered]

@piufa​.

The Charon relay. The jump between relay to relay felt mundane, welcomed to these ancient bones. His eyes, a brilliant amber, flitted to his left flank and unto a blanched crewmember; some of the less seasoned travellers aboard looked close to losing their lunch the moment the spacecraft settled in Sol. A subtle sneer curled his lips, swiftly quelled.

As heaven's black cosseted starlight, the SSV Normandy SR-2 moved in dreamy awe through Sol’s space. She swam swiftly yet silently; floating with direction and drive. Four sets of dual-pupils flashed unto the galaxy map; there, glittering and bulging mutely on the projection, was planet Earth. 

That was their plotted destination.

As he rounded the galaxy map, fingers momentarily smoothed along the outer railing. Many hands had grabbed here, acid born of sweat imprinting much fear, distress into the metal. This spacecraft had seen considerable pain. Even if there were traces of cleansing products, it could not wipe away the vestiges of war.

He approached Shepard.

“So,” he spoke in human tongue, English to be precise, though the language still felt clumsy betwixt teeth, “we’re heading for Earth? Humanity’s homeland?”

Javik knew a little about Earth. Not too much. He was too busy thrusting himself straight into war to be too involved in the historical and geographical nuances of primitive species. While part of him griped and grumbled with the notion, he had to acknowledge that another part of him was ... dare say, a smidgen curious.

[embittered]

LOTS  OF  WAYS  TO  HELP  PEOPLE.  SOMETIMES  HEAL  PATIENTS;  SOMETIMES  EXECUTE  DANGEROUS  PEOPLE.  EITHER  WAY  HELPS.   —   independent,  selective,  18+  only  roleplay  blog  for  MORDIN SOLUS  of  the  mass  effect  trilogy.   —   as  penned  by  oddity.

[embittered]

javik, avatar of grump

[embittered]

not me out here thinkin abt how vastly javik’s future ambitions change if u convince him to touch the memory shard and force him to relive violent trauma

[embittered]

would anyone here b interested in plotting w javik? 👉👈 like this post and i’ll plop myself in ur dms!

[embittered]

Part of the Mass Effect RPC?

Hello! Brand-new Masterlist here! Please fill out in the tags

If you’re a canon or original character

Singlemuse blog or multimuse blog!

And your muse(s) name(s)!

Link to Masterlist

[embittered]

HEADCANON 001. prothean gender and sex.

protheans have four traditional genders born from their four biological sexes, and one gender which was longstanding and accepted in prothean society but not as historically embedded as the initial four. culturally and socially there’s a plethora more. the reason for their initial four genders is thanks to their quad-strand DNA.

their five genders are split into two subsets: primut (loosely translated as “primary”) and niac (loosely translated as “concomitant”). there are three genders in primut, and two in niac. most genders outside the five are often considered in the subset of niac.

primut genders include:

santiv;   (one of the initial four) a gender that, when congruent with their biological sex, serves as the creator of impregnating fluids. socially, santiv protheans take more domestic career roles.

dorativ;   (one of the initial four) a gender that, when congruent with their biological sex, serves as the creator of eggs which can then be impregnated by santiv protheans. socially, dorativ protheans used to take more teaching and leadership roles, which then bled into strong yet intellectual behavioural expectations.

flortiv;   (one of the initial four) a gender that, when congruent with their biological sex, serves as the birthing parent. socially, flortiv protheans were well-regarded, as their intermediate pouch that serves to protect and incubate their children was considered highly necessary, especially since flortiv protheans occurred at a lesser rate than dorativ protheans or santiv protheans.

niac genders include: 

blediv;   (one of the initial four) a gender which, biologically, showcases a combination of santiv and dorative and flortiv characteristics — something akin to humans’ bigender, except it’s more trigender than bigender. socially, blediv protheans were more likely to be chosen as avatars of prothean virtues.

aniniv;   a gender which is something akin to humans’ agender, where a prothean rejects their birth-assigned gender wholly.

similarly for human civilisation, protheans also understand and open their arms to transgender-akin individuals. they had long-since created and whetted technology to allow for transition from one gender to another. unfortunately, many protheans towards the latter end of the reaper conflict didn’t have the privilege of being able to spend time to medically transition should they have had wished for such; they were built from the ground-up as soldiers and soldiers alone.

as for what javik is? javik is blediv. it just so happens that contemporarily javik ‘displays’ characteristics which other races code as male. when assumed male and assumed masculine pronouns, javik doesn’t bother correcting nor relenting; he doesn’t expect the primitives to understand — then again, he rarely does.

[embittered]

STAND  IN  THE  ASHES  OF  A  TRILLION  DEAD  SOULS  AND  ASK  THE  GHOSTS  IF  HONOUR  MATTERS.   —   independent,  selective,  18+  only  roleplay  blog  for  JAVIK  of  mass  effect  3.   —   as  penned  by  oddity.

[embittered]

this is an independent, selective, 18+ only roleplay blog for THE PROTHEAN AVATAR OF VENGEANCE, JAVIK of the MASS EFFECT trilogy, as penned by oddity (he/him). please read the following pages prior to interaction.

RULES.   |   DOSSIER.   |   VERSES.

[embittered]

okay now that i’ve got my basic graphics done, it’s TIME to build this blog up!!