#so i know that one slaver he went so hard on was a krogan and the joke is that the krogan are hard to kill

[gammaraydeath]

some things you can't wash away

[aceouttatime]

Picking random numbers out of a hat for Shepard asks:

Give me 4, 17, 27, and 34! I have no idea what these numbers correspond to! It'll be a fun little surprise for me.

thanks for the ask daisy <333

4. Shepard wakes up in an alternate universe. What tips them off?

-> Completely depends on what alternate universe we're talking about, but generally, probably the lack of impending doom. Now I'm tempted to rotate around the idea of a no-reapers au and how that would go with him...

17. Have they done any interviews? How did the first one go? And the most recent?

-> As far as job interviews, no. Sylvan was born on Mindoir with a fairly typical colonist background prior to the slaver raid when he was 16. His family owned a ranch, so he has a long history of hard labor growing up. He got picked up by the Alliance after and was practically inducted in; since then, he's worked his way through the ranks.

He only really got political/news interviews after his survival on Akuze, and even then, thankfully, there were few. Official Alliance channels and media people broadcasted the award ceremony, and his very first interview was the night of. The reporter and outlet had strong ties to Terra Firma, and made a strong attempt to pry into Shepard's past on Mindoir rather than focus on the politics behind the attack on Akuze. Now, Sylvan's plenty polite when he wants to be, his parents raised him right and good.

But they also didn't raise a damned doormat.

To say the interview went poorly would be. Accurate. He uh. Walked out about halfway through because it's difficult to interview a war survivor facing you dead in the eye and saying nothing. Also doesn't help that he has the most unnerving damned eyes, even before Lazarus. A little too green. A little too wide when he's staring, like he's looking right through you.

His track record's been similar since. He's got a simple policy of 'respect for respect' when it comes to dealing with the media, and he will gentle parent the hell out of a leading question. 'Now, you didn't mean to ask me that question like that. Let's try it again.' Generally, the only people that get away with talking down to him are the Council, and even then, not for very long.

27. The last time they were rude to someone:

-> Today. It was Garrus in the airlock. He probably poked fun at how Shepard broke a couple fingers biotic-charging a krogan because he didn't wait for his shotgun to cool down. In other news, Shepard also punched a turian today (it did not fix his broken fingers).

It's okay, he knows he loves him. This is how men flirt(?)

34. What was Jack’s first impression of shepard? And now?

-> Jack's first impression of Shepard? Easy. She thought he was a pussy because of how he handled Kuril, and reckless for how he handled the aftermath. The recklessness she respected. Miranda viewed it as a stupid risk, which only further cemented that. After her acquisition mission on Purgatory, he was straight up with her and gave her full access to the files she wanted. At that point, she was convinced he had some underlying motive, was trying to get in her head, get her to lower her defenses. That continued for a long time, not helped by his tendency to try to get to know his crew. He would ask questions, she would push back, and he would nod or call her out on it, either way seemingly satisfied by her non-answer, which infuriated the hell out her. It got her to open up more, just trying to figure him out.

Something shifted when he agreed to take her to Pragia. He brought along Garrus, and by that point, Jack had been on enough missions with the two of them to understand how they operated--the banter, the old in-jokes between them, the quick-action tactical commentary as they watched one another's backs. But, while Garrus responded occasionally to her commentary and narration walking through the old facility, clearly sympathetic to her situation and comfortable enough letting her express her anger, Shepard was content to stay mostly silent.

And he told her, it was more a suggestion than anything else, when she finally had a gun on Aresh, "Let him go down with the ship. You don't have to choose for him."

When she activated the detonator on the shuttle, that was when it clicked. There was no motive. He wanted to see what she'd do. Not because he saw her as an object or as an asset or a liability, but because she was a person on his ship, and he'd be damned if he didn't give her the closure she asked for before plotting a course to hell. He didn't think he knew better for her--he wanted to give her options he never had.

She looked further into his past. She asked him about Mindoir. She asked him about Akuze. By the time they met each other while she was teaching at Grissom, she asked him about Garrus and told him, "If you two haven't fucked each other already, then I owe Cerberus' favorite sex symbol more credits than these kids' parents pay me a year. Put his spiky ass in a wedding dress and get it over with already."

[bigasswritingmagnet]

When History Comes Calling Ch 6/14

art by @snuffes

Fandom: Mass Effect Rating: Teen Pairing: none, some background Fshep/Garrus

Summary: In 2170, Mindoir was attacked by slavers. Hundreds were taken  captive, hundreds more were slaughtered. Kiryn was the only Shepard to  make it out alive. For years, he buried his grief, kept his head high,  and did whatever he needed to survive.He survived Mindoir and the batarians and when the Reapers came he survived them too.

But  when the war ends and he escapes his batarian masters to the Citadel,  the discovery that his twin sister is alive and well might just be the  thing that breaks him. The Hegemony's greatest assassin will remember  what it means to have something to lose.

AO3 link in notes! “How come Joker gets a whole bed and I have to sleep on a couch?” 

“Because I have brittle bone disease, and you once won hand to hand combat with a krogan.” 

“I have to sleep on a couch too, and I’m not complaining.” 

“Because you fit on a couch, Esteban. You’re couch sized.” 

“You could ask Garrus if you can bunk with him.” 

“No thanks. I’ve been shot all the times I want.” 

A faint pinging noise. 

“Shepard says if we don’t bring breakfast in ten minutes she starts breaking windows.” 

“Ah jeez. Garrus! Come on! We gotta go before Shepard pisses off the nurses again!” 

“I hope they let her out soon, I don’t know how much more of her that hospital can take.” 

“Well the doctor says…” 

The voices faded as the speakers passed out of the bug’s range. Kiryn very nearly scowled in his frustration. This was the third time he’d missed out on information of Keris’ medical status. 

He needed to get more listening devices. One for every room of that stupid, oversized cavern of an apartment. Nobody ever stayed put when they started a conversation, even an important one.  He never should have wasted one in the office. Nobody spent any time in there, because it was Keris’ office, and she was in the hospital. 

The kitchen had been a good call, but apparently people had conversations about highly confidential top secret Alliance projects anywhere they damn well pleased, up to and including the bathroom. Weren’t these people supposed to be professionals? One of them was the Shadow Broker for crying out loud.  

The emails had been worse than disappointing. They had been concerning. Not in content, but in quantity. He had expected the bulk of his sister’s communication to be work related. But out of an entire year’s worth of correspondence, barely fifty of them had been entirely unrelated to her work. At least they had been relatively positive messages, mostly requests to spend time together in a non-combat situation. He just hoped Keris had taken them all up on that offer. She never seemed to reply to the emails she got. 

Kiryn sat up, startling the man on the other bed. He wasn’t sure what to make of the man, who went by Tucker. He couldn't possibly know Kiryn's reputation - he was from a colony just outside Alliance space, and this was the farthest he'd ever been from home. He'd been a beet farmer, of all things. 

Kiryn had never threatened him. In fact, Kiryn barely spoke to the man. He spent most of his time staring silently at the ceiling, listening to the conversations via his listening devices. Tucker couldn't hear anything, Kiryn had made sure, so there was no way that was worrying him.Kiryn was never rude or angry or moody; he kept up his neutral expression as he always did, showing no emotions whatsoever.

So why on earth was Tucker so afraid of him?

“Good morning,” he said.

“Mmhmm,” Tucker said, dropping the datapads he’d been trying to sort. He started to retrieve them, only to drop them again when Kiryn stood up. Kiryn stared at him, trying to think of something to say that would reassure the man. The only thing that really came to mind was “don’t worry I only kill people for money and I promise I wouldn’t take a contract on you if anyone offered it”-- and Kiryn suspected that wasn’t quite going to cut it.

“Have a nice day,” he said, finally. Tucker shrank away from him as he slipped out the door. What a strange man. 

  As obsessive as C-Sec was about keeping tabs on the refugees, they sure weren't doing a very good job of watching all the possible ways in and out. This had been a loading dock, which meant there were all sorts of service entrances. Sure, those doors were locked, but they used the same keycards as the open entrances. All Kiryn had had to do was get his hands on a security pass -- neatly snagged off a passing officer too busy talking on his omnitool -- and he could come and go as he pleased. There was one door that the cameras didn't quite reach, around a corner the guards didn't bother to keep an eye on.

Kiryn was becoming quite fond of C-Sec, in a condescending sort of way. Bless their little hearts, they tried so hard. If Kiryn had been interested in doing any real damage, they'd never catch him until it was far, far too late. Truly it was fortunate that everyone was too busy trying to get themselves sorted out to even think about the kinds of political maneuverings that required murder.

He found that he enjoyed exploring the Citadel. So much of it was a novelty: being able to disappear so easily into the crowd, not needing to keep constant watch for security systems or guards, to keep to his own schedule rather than that of his target, to just casually be . He could go into a store that caught his interest without a purpose, or sit on a bench and watch people go by, or even just meander aimlessly around with no destination in mind.  

Perhaps this was what it meant to enjoy freedom.

He didn't even need to be efficient when he did have a goal in mind. He could go to the wards and find the quiet little shop that discreetly sold the tools of his trade, buy some more listening devices, and take himself up to the Presidium for lunch before heading back to Keris' apartment. No rush at all, so long as he got there before visiting hours ended. He'd been listening in for long enough to get a good sense of everyone's schedules. They tended to take shifts at the hospital with Keris, but they also had their own jobs to do. In general, the apartment was all but guaranteed to be empty between 10 am and 3pm.

"I'm getting a little worried about you, Garrus," said Tali'zorah vas Normandy, and Kiryn nearly choked on his noodles. Reaching out to grab a napkin, he turned the silver holder until he could see beside him. Only one seat away, three of Keris' friends were sitting down to lunch.

Of all the worst luck... He hunched his shoulders and tried to be as invisible as possible. They don't know what you look like, he tried to remind himself. For that matter, they didn't even know anyone had been in Keris' apartment. They weren't looking for anyone. But if they did figure it out, he couldn't risk someone looking at the security cameras and remembering the guy at the noodle place.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine," said Garrus Vakarian, the turian his sister was, actually, as a matter of fact, dating for real. Kiryn still hadn’t figured out what to think about that. 

"No, Tali's right. You spend every minute you can in the hospital." James Vega was even bigger than he sounded.   

"Where else should I be?" Vakarian snapped. Kiryn watched his reflection jab irritably at the electronic menu. "I can do my work from there just fine."

"I know," Tali’zorah said, gently, "but you don't do anything else. Or go anywhere else. At all."

"You want me to just leave her in there alone?" There were even fewer turians in batarian space than there were humans, so Kiryn wasn't as good at reading them, especially when distorted by a reflection. But even he could hear anxiety pretending to be anger when he heard it.

"C'mon, Scars, we're not saying you should never visit her. But she's not going anywhere. She's fine now, she said so herself."

"She said she was fine when she was barely out of the coma, too," Vakarian said. "After what happened last week, you still think she's fine?"

Last week? What had happened last week? Nobody had said anything last week. Unless they'd said it out of range of the listening devices. His hand tightened on his chopsticks, his ears straining to pick up every word over the bustle of the crowd.

"It was just a bad reaction to the medication. The doctors fixed it."

"And if she has a bad reaction to this stuff too? What then?"

Kiryn tried to remember to keep eating, to just blend in, be another member of the crowd. Everything suddenly tasted foul; it was hard to swallow. He agreed with Vakarian whole-heartedly. A mental image of Keris sitting small and alone in a dark hospital room, flashed across his mind. Just the thought made him feel cold. These were supposed to be her friends!

"Hey, can you pass the soy sauce?"

The voice was so unexpected Kiryn looked up. He turned away again, but the damage had been done. Vega had seen his face. Kiryn slid the bottle over, muttering something, trying to look engaged with his soup.

"Hey, do I know you? You look real familiar, man."

No. No, no, no, no.

He shook his head, his stomach twisting into knots.

"Military, right?" Shit . "I was stationed out on Arcturus Prime a few years back; were you ever out that way?"

Kiryn shook his head firmly and stood.

"No."

"But--"

Kiryn turned quickly and left, knowing this was suspicious, thinking of a thousand better ways he could have handled it... but his heart was thudding against his ribs so hard he couldn't breathe. 

He should hold off on going back to Keris' apartment for a few days, until the incident had faded from their minds. He wasn't going to. The reminder of just how much information he was missing was not one he could easily put aside. What if Vakarian was right, and something did happen and Kiryn never knew about it?

He would just need to be quick, and careful.

This time he did not go in the front door, even though he knew the code. He could not risk being seen by the cameras out front. But he'd had a chance to get his hands on blueprints of Tiberius Towers and the buildings beside it. There was a parking garage beneath them. All three had access. 

He walked faster than he should have. The adrenaline and something tight in his chest he couldn't understand drove him on. He found the elevator and stairwell. He took the stairs, but only two flights. There was the opening to the air vents. Unpleasant, slow, and difficult, but much, much safer. No risk of being seen. He could be absolutely sure no one was in the apartment before he entered.

The added bonus was that it forced him to slow down. He had to focus on making as little sound as possible, regulating his breathing, and counting the floors as he went. The cold air in the vent went a long way to clearing his mind. By the time he was high up enough, his heartbeat had slowed and he could think straight again, although he still couldn’t shake that tightness in his chest. 

It had been an unfortunate coincidence, and he hadn’t handled it well. However, given that no one knew about the bugs, no one was on the alert for any strange behavior. As far as they knew, he was just a weird guy at the ramen place. Right? Right. 

So just calm down and get a grip. Everything was fine. 

There was a series of laser tripwires criss-crossing the vents leading to Keris’ apartment. Before he could pull up his omnitool and figure out how to deactivate them, they turned off. That was….weird. He checked their schematics and found that they had genetic sequence readers, just like the door. They didn’t seem to be set to track any coming and goings. The alarm was simply wired not to go off when certain people went by. And apparently the readers weren’t very advanced, if 50% was close enough to do it. 

It might have been making his life more convenient, but he wasn’t any less annoyed at how slipshod Keris’ security system was. She should really know better.

Kyrin had a lot of little tools in his kit, things that weren’t necessary but made his job easier. Some were quite specialised. You couldn’t get past everything with an omnitool. Of particular use was a device that looked almost like something you’d find at a dentist’s office, which was able to unscrew things from around a corner. Like, say, the screws to a vent cover from inside the vent. 

Kiryn was at the top of his field for many reasons. His physical prowess and tactical skill made him one of the best. But there were two things that made him the best: he minded the little details, and he always always managed his escape routes as he went. It was for this reason that, despite his urgency, he took the time to strip the screws and glue them into place on the vent cover, so he could come and go with ease. 

This time he was not going to dawdle. In, plant the bugs, get out. He’d go to the wards and find a hotel that charged by the hour, ridiculous or not, and work on his sniper rifle. That would make him feel better. Or at least calmer.

He put a bug in every room in the apartment, every hallway. Under every couch, the poker table, the conference table, hidden in the branches of a tree, at the bottom of a painting. One in the bar, at the far back where it couldn’t be seen. 

Nothing was ever going to happen to Keris that Kiryn did not know about. Not anymore.

[kaidans-alenko]

evening! 11 + 12 + 14 + 17 + 19 + 24 for the shepard twins? :D

Evening! Any opportunity to talk about my babies (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:���ﾟ✧

What was your character's highest point? How did they get there? What does your character do to maintain this high point?

When they made N7, they went through different training programs(Lily is a sentinel and Aiden is a vanguard) but they got their acceptance letters on the same day and it was proudest they’ve ever been of themselves and each other. To maintain it they do everything they can to prove that they’ve earned the right to wear that logo on their armor(or in Lily’s case catsuit (ノへ￣、) )

Is trust something that comes easily for your character? What’s required to break their trust? Has there been a time when their trust was broken? What were the repercussions of this event?

Lily: It’s just generally safe to assume Lily doesn’t trust anybody because that’s almost always the case, not much is required to break it considering there probably wasn’t much there in the first place HOWEVER if she by some miracle she does end up trusting someone and they do break that trust you’ll end up a stain on the floor and she’ll beat herself up over it for a while. 

Oddly enough she thought she could trust TIM, she is always open to extreme solutions and can’t trust aliens as far as she can throw them(which...with her biotics is pretty far but you know what I mean lmao) so she was kinda behind his message but then he turned on her brother and that’s when the claws came out. 

Aiden: Being involved with the reds on earth led him to not trust as easily as he used to but he isn’t as bad as his sister and he’s always one for second chances which is a good and bad thing. Aiden doesn’t allow himself to be walked all over and that’s how you loose his trust, taking advantage of him or using him to gain something is a big no for him and while it hasn’t caused overall trust issues he will cut that person out. So uh funny story this one actually involves Lily, he untrusted her with helping mordin distribute the cure and instead of doing that she killed him and doomed the krogan just for some salarian aid. He didn’t find out until he was attacked by wrex over it. They fought, not argued, fought botics and all. They didn’t talk for a few days unless necessary they made up ofc but he took it pretty hard.

Does your character have a long-term goal or are they just cruising through life? If so, what is their goal?

They’re both just kinda cruising, naturally they want the reaper threat gone but outside of that Lily wants a family and Aiden isn’t really sure, he’s not concerned with much else outside of dealing with the reapers. 

Your character comes across a kitten stuck in a tree. How do they react? What do they do?

Lily is a huge softie when it comes to kids and animals, for example on earth she fed all the stray ally cats and before she left for basic she took them to an animal shelter to be taken care of, so if by chance she did see a kitten stuck in a tree she’s use her biotics to get it down and either find it’s owner and if it didn’t have one she’d get it one ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

Aiden is allergic to cats so he’d probably sneeze a whole bunch before climbing up to grab it and then he’d swiftly hand it off to Lily 

Who does your character most regret meeting? Why? Is the feeling mutual?

Lily: the council pfft she’s always had problems with them stemming back to their inaction with batarian slavers(notably on mindoir) and i’m gonna assume it’s mutual considering she left the to die

Aiden: TIM he feels stupid for allowing himself to be manipulated that much and with the events of me3 i’m gonna go ahead and say its mutual sdffgghhj

What is a conversation like with your character? Do they have a go-to story or joke to share? Do they tend to actively participate in conversation or are they more passive?

Lily always goes for the puns, she even has a little notebook “Lily’s book of things(mainly jokes) to get people to like you :D” she does her best to be liked seeing as she is surprisingly social but she finds it hard to believe people could like her for her personality. She tries to actively participate but she’s like a vampire in the sense she has to be invited to do so. 

Aiden likes to tell the wide variety of stories he has about the colony most of which involve Lily get into one sided screaming matches with cows(they scare her) Aiden is more passive, unless he has something to contribute he’s more likely to just listen. 

[rawliverandcigarettes]

A Sleep-Deprived Journey of Batarians in Halfway Home

(or: the adventures of me in “Everything is problematic and I want to cry”) (also I have lost count and I am not consistent in anything regarding these updates please bear with me)

I haven’t slept and I am exhausted, as in, globally. So of course I decided it would be the perfect time to write something about the daunting, complex and delicate process of weaving the batarian narrative in Halfway Home.

Because, of course, I have to be like that.

I’d say the “batarian subplot”, as I call it, is the biggest subplot of Halfway Home, and one of the more intricately connected. It is present in some capacity from the first chapter to the last, and it’s the story of three things:

the long, muted fall of an entire civilization (as in the games, so I’m not really counting it as spoiler?)

the narrative on said long, muted fall from the perspective of an outsider (namely Shlee, hi Shlee) shifting gradually as the picture gets more precise and nuanced

Khocress Kam’gestar and his fight against the entropy; to secure a new cultural identity and a new home for his gang, and the batarian people at large (and the ideological turmoil it causes him, hi Khocress)

This subplot is also extremely linked to the political subplots (mostly the growing human influence and its clashes with turian powers), the Omega subplot and who gets to rule that damn upside down edgy space rock. And the main plot as well, of course.

So. Batarians.

Honestly sometimes I wonder what the hell I was thinking trying to go deep in the intricacies of that culture and its horrifying course throughout the games. Because… So beware! the Spice, but batarians, as a “planet of hat” culture (which they very much are in the games)… is kind of not great to begin with? And I don’t mean “not great” diegetically to the Mass Effect world, because yes they are very much not great in-world: they are slavers, with a caste system, pirates, racists and dismissive of other species, involved in “human” trade, sort of sexists, the species by far the most associated with sexual assault canonically, thrive in gangs, terrorists, want to aggressively impose their culture on the civilized other species and ain’t that preposterous… Yeah, so what I mean is that batarians, as a concept, are not exactly… Woke(TM), if I may. While kind of hard to pinpoint as a shortcut to one singular culture, they evoke a narrative that isn’t new but remains vague enough to be used as a “conversation starter” without being too outrageous. Basically batarians, when compared to the expected demographic of the game (which I assume is “western” whatever that means), embody All Of The Bad Tropes coming hot out of the “non-white” hat of cultural shortcuts, except up-played to 11. Wow, I know, what a take right.

I don’t think it has been done out of malice at all. I think the goal, with batarians, was to create a species you could freely hate and shoot (and do a tiny genocide on) without feeling too bad about it. And creating guilt-free antagonists is kind of normal when you’re making a shooter game, especially one like Mass Effect that does everything it can for the player to feel empowered and right (and it evokes this feeling masterfully, which is crazy hard to do). The antagonism between batarians and humans create tension every time Shepard crosses path with one of them, especially if the player went the Colonist route. That’s actually pretty cool to maintain, and the contained aggressiveness with every Omega interaction in Mass Effect 2 makes for interesting momentum (and makes me sort of wish we had some greater batarian antagonist, because there was potential, videogame-wise). And Mass Effect 3 finally paints a little more nuance on this species as a group of people who lost everything (though it kind of paints it with its “congratulation you played yourself” light that we also have with asaris after the Reaper attack –really not a fan, but hey, self-righteousness feels deserved after 150+ hours poured in an RPG series, so good for Shepard I guess).

But yes, culture bias is unfortunate, so invoking racist stereotypes can be a shorthand to achieve diplomatic antagonism pretty fast with our human protagonist, even if unknowingly and with the best intentions in mind.

But now I’m stuck with this too, am I not.

So I got stuck with a lot of decisions from the trilogy since several years ago, the worst offender still and always the Cerberus plot on Omega, which I will never not whine about. But for some reason, I never fought the batarian characterization, and I tried to roll with it and go underneath what that characterization means. What such a culture would be about. Also: after thousands of years of cohabitation (they made contact 40 years after the Council was formed by salarians and asaris, which dates them as crazy old), how they have been reflected back and shaped by other cultures too. Why this crazy long time period had been shoved under the carpet in their characterization, their presence not even mentioned for several major wars, why krogans, while still quite vengeful as a whole, are apparently more deserving of progressive empathy (at least in the way it’s shown) than batarians enslaved by their own kind and unable to leave their propaganda-fueled homeworld on the verge of economic collapse. There is a lot to unpack, a lot under the surface, and I get a sense of disconnect between the simplicity of their portrayal and the complexity of their reality in this world. I guess this is what drove me to them, in part.

So the task was to lay down the story of their fall. Cool.

But with a material so deeply flawed to begin with, it’s very hard to do right. Calling it up right now: I am bound to mess up somehow, because this very narrative is so connoted. I don’t know if there is a name for the trope of the Fatally Flawed Culture, the Unsavable Morally Doomed Civilization, but as much as I dance around the idea that the problem is not with what their culture had become but with the system that put them in that position in the first place, the slip is so very easy to make, especially given their proto-fascist ways. Also how easy it is to shove in some taste of White Savior, even without meaning to, even actively fighting against it, especially when the POV isn’t part of said culture (though Shlee doesn’t save anyone, barely his own ass, and mess up quite incredibly every time he attempts to meddle with a culture he believes really hard he understands and belongs to, honestly). Also, well. Batarian culture is flawed, it is part of their characterization, and washing them off as pure and unproblematic wouldn’t be very helpful either, nor would it be interesting. Victimization is as dehumanizing as blind antagonism. And then, and that comes with how the games sets them up in the narrative: their story is a downward spiral by essence. And this display of tragedy is kind of used, in the games, as a way to get the player to feel that maybe they deserve a little empathy after all. In a story that flips the switch to put the spotlight on their perspective and still maintains the systemic horror of their narrative arc, how do you avoid trauma porn, miserabilism?

I don’t have a perfect solution, obviously. One of my attempts is to multi-facet this whole situation as much as possible, with as much batarian faces as I can fit them in, but then you don’t want to bloat the story either, and then you contrast the pain with anger, and the anger can be horrifying, and another problematic problem in itself (I’m going to dubious places involving some batarian characters, and it’s kind of overwhelming, and also necessary but also kind of a never ending swarm of questions and double guesses, but welp ain’t no way I’m not getting canceled over something in this puddle of hot mess). Hope too, of course, but again, keep the message clear, don’t bloat the story. But hope, still. Somewhere.

All of that convoluted, sleep-deprived post served only to deliver this message: batarians are a mess to get right. They come packaged as a mess, are a mess to work through, and I have very little hope for them not to still be a mess at the end of the road. I will try. They deserve as much.

Who said writing fanfiction was easy again.

[shadowanalyst]

“Do you miss them?” the nurse asked, dabbing the Turian’s crest. What a heavy question. How could anyone not miss them? They were like family to him and the line of work he was in normally wouldn’t allow it.

“Honestly?” he started, adjusting idly in his bed. “It’s hard to say I miss them when I can barely get time away from them.”

The nurse was new. She didn’t know any better. Of course, that would change soon. For a human, she seemed pretty patient with him. “Oh? So they come to visit?”

“I’d compare it more to an invasion.” He offered a low and pained laugh, hand moving to his side out of instinct.

The nurse was quick to act, making comforting noises and actions if, at the very least, to encourage more careful actions moving forward. “Why don’t you tell me about them?”

The Turian hummed as the pain subsided, eyes lifting to the nurse. “I could tell you a good deal, if you had the time...”

They visit, often one at a time, but sometimes in groups of two or three, rarely all at once. Tuesdays, Raik Oreak tends to come by to play Bingo. Both he and Profugus hate it, but Profugus is in no shape to spar anymore. It is the best way for them to spend time with one another short of outright stealing the wounded Turian. For an ancient Krogan to find a Turian as not just a battle partner but also a dear friend, it was remarkable. The fact that Profugus was able to tolerate him after their first encounter - costing him his mandible - was likewise a miracle. It earned Oreak’s respect. His dedication earned his loyalty.

Rana'Arvan vas Nedas either came with Matriarch Firenza or Oreak, but she would also come alone on Wednesdays, sometimes to hear Profugus tell tales of his time in the military but most days to share in an almost undoubtedly illegal - but still enjoyable - high. How she managed to do so through her suit was a mystery to Profugus but he assumed it had to do with her Biotics. She wasn’t as guarded anymore. The picture was so long ago and she was still so uncertain but now she had grown into a powerful Quarian all her own and Profugus couldn’t be prouder. At least Oreak was almost always more to sing Rana’s praise. Why wouldn’t he? He adopted her and she him.

On Thursdays, the Matriarch would come by. Unlike the others, she tended to be incredibly careful in her words and actions. She had been part of the group since nearly the start but she still viewed Profugus as her superior despite him protesting it late into his life. They would share tea, sometimes even talk. Some regrets linger between them but none they have not buried with time. Sometimes he could coax a smile. Most days they spoke of Oreak and Rana. Both she and the Krogan had raised the Quarian, essentially, and they continue to train her but now she was reaching a point that she didn’t need the help. To Firenza, it was almost heartbreaking but Rana’s success certainly brought a tear to her eye.

The last visitor, and almost always alone, was Brutais. The young Turian was his understudy, set to take over the team now that Profugus had been wounded so gravely. He was scared he couldn’t fill the elder Turian’s place. Such a leader to be succeeded by an inexperienced Turian? To Brutais, it was almost sacrilege but no matter how frequently he lamented this, Profugus was always quick to stop him. He would succeed. The reason he chose him was partly because he saw so much of himself in Brutais and it was already revealing itself to be a good choice. The Reapers were gone but much rebuilding was to be done. With the others, they would accomplish much. Profugus regrets he cannot be there to help but the fact they remain together in his absence was all he could ask for.

“What did you all do?” the nurse asked, sliding his food tray over to him. Oatmeal? Turian oatmeal. Wonderful.

Profugus sat up carefully, the human woman quick to help him as his expression revealed some discomfort. “We were mercenaries, technically. We were almost always working in the Terminus systems to deal with pirates and slavers. Contracts were thoroughly combed over and, if we didn’t like the target, we’d drop it. If it was clearly targeting someone innocent, we’d make sure they would get out safe and sound.”

The nurse nodded, half-focused on the story and half on making sure the tray was position over his lap. “What about during the war? Did you fight then?” she asked, adjusting his utensils. Kind woman, if a bit overattentive. It reminded him of Firenza when someone was wounded.

“We did, but we figured our work was better suited to getting people evacuated. The pirates were suddenly not so keen to raiding in the open. Sure, we still had scumbags floating around, but having something ready to end the galaxy pretty much everywhere was a great way to sober them up.” The oatmeal was mostly inoffensive but he tolerated it. “Generally, we either scooped up civilians or dealt with Cerberus teams we could find. The Hierarchy was glad to have us back so we had intel from time to time we could exploit.”

“Was it during the war that you got hurt?”

Profugus sighed, feeling a bit pathetic at the question. “It was. Worst part was that I could have avoided it, too. Strike on a Cerberus squad went sideways and I tried to milk it for all I could. Took some sort of rail cannon to the side and I was out of the fight.”

“At least you all survived the war alive, right?”

The old Turian nodded. “Right. It’s the best possible thing we could have asked for.”

Another fantastic piece done by @maxxdick! Done just in time to be ready for the Andromeda launch, I and a few friends have been hyping up like crazy! @arsenicsulphide @be-a-pineapple and a few with no Tumblrs, take a bow! Your aliens are here.