#ghorek

[justahusk]

Faketober challenge Day 12: Demon.

Meet Drekavant, an evolution to the two fakemon I made for day 3: Ghorek and Revavac!

This evolution line is based on the Drekavac, a ghostly creature froum Southern Slavic mythology. Though descriptions differ wildly depending on the area, two more common ideas are that the drekavac takes the form of a dog and - completely unrelated - spawns from the corpses of unbaptized newborns.

[shizuu-chann]

How does that batarian terrorist, Ghorek, even know Shepard was responsible for the Alpha Relay explosion? I recall hearing Hackett say there was just enough evidence for a witch hunt, but I do not understand how there's any evidence of that, either.

The Normandy is a stealth frigate, it got in and out secretly and intentionally. The comms were disabled when my Shep attempted to warn the batarians of the explosion, so that message never even went out. Even if part of it did, Shep only gets outs "this is Com--" before she gets cut off by the VI saying the comms are out. Ghorek says "everyone with a someone on Aratoht knows your face," but again, how?

Even if there was evidence ON Aratoht about Shep landing, like surveillance footage of her tearing through the base, it would have been destroyed when the system was obliterated. If Shep had to warn the batarians that a pseudo-supernova was going to destroy the system, then were there just enough batarians left at that base to send info about the breakout/infiltration to the Hegemony or something?

If that's what Hackett meant when he said there was "just enough evidence" for a witch hunt, like Shep was spotted on Aratoht and they informed higher ups outside the systems in the Kite's Nest or something, then I suppose it makes a LITTLE bit of sense? But why would they send anything to their homeworld when there's probably other bases and higher ups ON Aratoht they would likely report to FIRST? With the time frame of events it doesn't seem likely. I mean, Shep gets sedated for two days, and yet no one can track where the stolen shuttle went after they escaped in in the interim? I feel like with two days as a reference, they wouldn't have sent anything out to the Hegemony because they would have tried to handle t themselves. I could be wrong here, but the Batarian Hegemony comes across as a government that doesn't suffer failures, so the people of Aratoht would be inclined the keep shit hush-hush until such time as requesting aid from the higher ups is their only recourse--which, in two days, doesn't seem pressing enough.

I dunno. For me, I choose to believe it doesn't make sense for all the reasons listed above. There's likely never going to be a concrete answer, at least not one I agree with, and it's one of the (many) plot points I ignore in my head and pretend they just don't happen. I know ME3 has plot holes and things that don't make sense out the ass, but this one has been bothering me recently.

[whumpfessional]

Monologue

Final chapter before things finally loop around to the first part of the story I posted! Things are moving. Things are churning.

Balak is still a sadistic bastard.

CW: slavery, minor whump, reference to injuries, death reference

She must’ve fallen asleep. It was the only explanation for how she jolted upright as the door hissed open and Balak stepped into the engine room. 

His eyes caught hers. Two eyes wide with panic met four eyes calm with delight. His smile glowed.

“Hey, kid.” He turned and smoothly shut the door, cocking his head back towards her to catch her expression once more. The two lingered in this stillness for a moment before Balak stepped lightly into the room.

No command was given, so the girl stayed perfectly still. Ghorek. What happened with him? Segar went to tell Balak. All her fault. She didn’t shine his boots. 

Balak stood next to her seated form now. His eyes roamed. The girl felt a tug on the back hem of her shirt as a solitary finger lifted it up, exposing her back.

Silence. Then a low whistle escaped Balak’s teeth.

“Use to be I could look at this and remember each one of these marks.” The girl felt a cold finger tracing along the ridges of scars criss-crossing her back. “After Tristana, I thought for sure I’d come back here and see a biiiig fucking scar that I could point to and say ‘ohh yeah, I remember that one.’” The girl felt her shirt drop back down, the fabric clung to the skin, scrunched up about halfway up her spine but she made no move to fix it. “Instead all I see is a mess.” 

The sleeping mat shifted as Balak sat down beside her, his hands clasped together in his lap. Her eyes flicked to him, despite her best instincts. He stared straight ahead, his expression was unreadable. 

“My people have a great many traditions. From what I’ve read, your people aren’t so different. Neither are the Asari, the Turians, Salarians, Volus, blah-blah-blahblalblah. The thing is, the rest of the galaxy looks on my people as monsters. I wouldn’t expect you to know this. Hell, the other day was probably the first time you’d ever seen an Asari in your life. They are something else, aren’t they?” His head swerved toward her, a devilish grin creeping across face. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you looking. Who could blame you. Just nice to know there’s something still inside there that might feel… well, fucking anything.” His eyes lingered for another moment before he returned to staring straight ahead. The girl’s face lay flat, unreadable but her heart was pounding so heavily she kept glances up at Balak, seeing if he detected it. 

He continued: “I digress. They call us monsters. The reality is, as far as traditions go, we’re no better or worse than anyone of them. There’s only one, teeny, tiny, little detail that’s different. My people call a spade a spade. We’re slavers. Always have been. Slaves have been an essential part of our way of life since long before we took to the stars. It has been essential to our advancement as a species. Progress, innovation, marvels, all accomplished because there were those that we keep lower than the ones who matter. 

“So, they call us monsters. Because we understand the cost of our advancement. But somehow, what no one else in the damn galaxy seems to understand, is that their advancement stems from the same exact thing. They just don’t call it that. The Asari, highest examples of diplomacy and grace, have ‘indentured servants.’ A nice little rebranding, don’t you think? Turians force their own kind into mandatory military service. The Salarians enslaved the Krogan to fight for them before they and the Turians nearly wiped them out for rebelling. The Krogan in turn, enslave their women to bear offspring for them. The Hanar enslaved an entire species, the Drell, under the pretense of saving them and made them their assassins and soldiers. The Volus enslaved the Turians by cheating them with capital to the point now where the Turian slave soldiers will guard Volus space for free just to pay off their debts. Even the Quarians built robotic slaves for themselves because they were too weak to force anyone else to do their bidding.

“And finally,we have the Humans. Your people. Half of your tourist destinations are monuments built by slaves to honor their masters. The economies of your leading nations are built on the foundations of slavery. Your kind is almost as bad as the damn Volus when it comes to financial shackles. And around all of your systems and planets are factories and camps filled with workers earning their way towards an early grave all to fatten the pockets of people like the Illusive Man.

“Now, why am I telling you this? Because I think it’s important you understand what has happened to you. You have fallen, or rather been dragged, down a path that millions upon millions before you have gone down. Submission. You have slotted yourself into the mindset of the weak. You will be brought low so that those who matter can advance. That is what you are. And at first, you resisted it. I know you did, I was there, you and I were young but I could see it in you. You didn’t want the tattoo. You didn’t want to hold the cup. You wanted your mom, or your dad, or to go home.”

Balak’s little finger traced the scar across the bridge of her nose. The girl was frozen in place, feeling her pulse in her throat.

“You wanted to fight.

“This one has always been my favorite scar. It reminds me of that day. We kicked the shit out of you for what you did. Three-on-one, and still, you had something in you to fight back.” A silence hung in the air. The girl had never heard him speak this way before. There was no venom in his voice. No bite. No pleasure in causing her pain. She didn’t understand. She was wrong to fight back. She was wrong to disobey. It’s easier to do as she’s told. It would be worse if she didn’t.

Finally, Balak broke the silence once again.

“I don’t know when that changed.” He looked down at his hands. Tapping his thumbs together. “Ghorek’s nothing. A mechanic. But you needed him to… Segar has a knife in his belt. You know that, right?”

A question. The girl nodded. She was more than aware of the variety of weapons Balak and his seconds carried on them.

“Why didn’t you take it?”

A question. The girl froze. Was she suppose to? Is this a test? What would she use the knife for? She could never. It was Segar’s knife. She had nothing. Nothing was hers. It was her fault he hurt her. She forgot to clean his boots. Or she didn’t clean them well enough. It doesn’t matter which one. It was her fault either way. 

Balak’s eyes bore into her. He wants an answer. ‘Why didn’t you take it?’ What kind of question is that? No. There’s a reason for it. This is a test. She can’t take it. She should have been punished. It was her fault.

“-I -I’m sorry I forgot to clean his boots. Please. Forgive me.” The girl bowed her head and shut her eyes. She braced for the strike, the boot, the threat, the laugh, anything. She felt the bed shift as Balak stood. The sound of his feet clanking against the metal grate flooring as he moved in front of her.

The girl cracked her eyes open. Her feet, toe to toe with large metal boots. A sudden orange glow flooded the view. She felt the air pass her hair as Balak moved his arm to answer his glowing wrist device.

“What is it, Icarek?”

“We’ve got eyes on a quaint little human vessel floating out in the middle of nowhere. Freighter, looks like. Probably ran low on power. You want it?”

“Yeaaah, why not. I need something fun right now.”

“Copy.”

The orange glow vanished. The boots moved away. A few paces and the door hissed open. Balak paused at the door.

“Ghorek’s dead. I thought of doing it in front of you, but we’re past that now, aren’t we?” Her fault. She raised her head. He would be smiling. He always smiled when he punished her. But as the girl’s eyes met the Batarian’s, all she saw was anger. “I’m putting Segar in charge of watching you, from here on out. No one else is going to step in when you fuck up. No one else is going to stop him stomping your head to dust. No one else is going to fight for you, kid.”

He took a step out the door.

“Clean out the supply closet. I want it spotless when I get back.”

The door slammed shut.

And the girl was alone again.

In this room.

For the last time.

TAGLIST: @annablogsposts

[cyberbattiee]

Hello Ghouls, Ghosts and Themlins, 

This video is about the wounded Batarian on the Citadel. While walking past a Turian and a Human civilian in the Presidium Commons, we overhear them discussing about a Batarian terrorist. Apparently, the terrorist has bombed several places before and even targeted other Batarians! The civilians both agree that he should be killed for what he's done. According to them, he is currently being held here on the Citadel. 

Once you find him, you are given a hard choice to make. What did our FemShep decide to do with this terrorist? Find out by checking out the video!

Thanks for watching and stay creepy!

[gnomishspareparts]

[gravelface]

Ghorek & Jalbert Hit the Road!

[gatecrashing-corneas]

[masseffectcaps]

[justahusk]

Faketober challenge Day 3: Mammal.

Meet Ghorek and its pre-evolution, Revavac! They're pure ghost-type pokemon loosely based on the Drekavac from southern slavic mythology.

Ghorek and Revavac have glowing patterns on their face resembling canine skulls, though the exact origin of these spirits is unknown.

[whumpfessional]

Forgotten

Pt 10 of Circe’s Story, other parts in Masterpost.

BIG CW: STARVATION

Just want that at the top, this story isn't necessary to overall plot so don't worry if you have to skip it.

But yeah, poor kid gets left behind. She's sure they didn't mean to though.

CW: Slavery, minor whump, STARVATION, fainting, someone gets stabbed (Balak doesn't like other people fucking with his toys), food hoarding if that's a trigger

It has been 3 days since the door to the engine room had been opened. Ghorek had mentioned something about a brief shore leave as he headed out, the door clicking shut behind him.

The ship had been quiet since then. None of the pounding feet running above, no shouts echoing down the hallways. A Batarian pirate ship is not typically a quiet place. It had been nice at first but the girl now found herself straining to hear anything. 

They wouldn’t have just left her, she tried to convince herself. Someone would remember she was here. 

The girl had learnt over the years to stockpile a little food when she was able. When she got given a ration bar or some non-perishable food, unlike the cold leftovers she usually got, she made a habit of tucking it away in a tiny alcove she had discovered while hiding. 

This wasn’t the first time she had been left recently though and her supplies were low. She had finished one of the bars yesterday and there was only one left. And no clue when the crew would return. 

Water wasn’t something she had to worry about, thankfully. There was an old work sink and their water recycling systems kept it clean enough for her to drink.

The worst was the boredom. She had managed to complete any ongoing repairs needed by the second day. The storage room was organized and everything was oiled and cleaned. 

Time passed. The growling of her stomach got louder. She tried to sleep but the aching kept her up. Eventually, she had to cave, splitting the remaining ration bar in half just so she could fall asleep. The girl ate as slowly as possible, trying to fill herself up with water between bites in order to trick her body into thinking it was full. 

She lay in the darkness, wondering what it would be like to starve to death. It was a bad way to go but not the worst that she had been faced with. 

Balak would come back for her. She couldn’t give up. What would he think if she gave up? He would be so disappointed. She had to trust him. Of course he would come back. 

There was a bad taste on her breath and the tooth tablets she chewed didn’t make any difference. Maybe I’m dying from the inside, she thought as she lay under the machinery, counting the bolts above. She could only get to 43 before her mind wandered back to food. 

Was this the longest she had gone? There was a time years before, before she came to the family. She had been in a cage and she had been so hungry. But she had been little and her memories from back then could have well been a dream she made up. That’s what she told herself.

Armed with a wire brush, the girl scrubbed every part of machinery, clearing out any built up grease. Her arms shook and she had to sit down every few minutes from the effort. Was it the same day? She could usually tell time passing from Ghorek’s comings and goings. 

Hours stretched. The girl waited between pipes clanking as they shifted at rest, counting her heartbeats between each one. Seeing how long she could hold her breath for. Her arms were so heavy, she could barely drag herself to the sink. The girl went to finish the ration bar but it was already gone. She didn’t remember eating it. It didn’t feel like she had eaten anything. 

It was hard not to just sleep but what if Balak came back? She had to keep going. She couldn’t be weak. The girl propped herself up against a control panel, cleaning rag in hand. The gentle creaking of the ship played tricks on her ears and she bolted upright whenever she thought heard boots marching towards the door, scrubbing the towel in circular motions. 

But she had to sleep at some point. Her eyes bleared over when she finally cracked them open, watching Ghorek walk through the door, stopping suddenly at seeing her slumped form. Quickly, she tried to get up but her vision faded and she found herself falling backward, knocking her head on the console. 

Opening her eyes again, Ghorek was no longer in the room but she could hear his voice coming towards her down the hall.

“…looked sick or something. I don’t know about humans but-“ Ghorek stepped into the room, followed by Balak. The girl's eyes rolled open and she started to push herself upwards again, managing to make it on her hands and knees, trembling. 

"Shhhhhh shh shh shh shh" Balak crouched beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder to stop her from rising. "It's alright, kid."

He pulled the hair back from her face and lifted her chin with his other hand. He stared at her for a while.

"...Shiiiiit. Ghorek, will you look at this?"

Ghorek shuffled closer and peered over Balak's shoulder.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking at, sir."

"Clearly."

Balak stood, yanking the girl up with him so suddenly the room spun and her legs barely managed to stand under her.

"Now, I need you to tell me what's wrong with this without me telling you."

Ghorek, looked back and forth between his captain and the girl. "It's sick?"

"Sick.”

"I think so. Sir, like I said, I don't know humans very-"

"What happens if we don't eat, Ghorek?"

The girls legs grew weaker. She leaned more and more into Balak.

"We... starve?"

"That's right. So would it be safe to assume that if a human doesn't eat, they will starve, too?"

"I-"

"Or are you really suggesting that humans are more advanced than we are? Biologically? To where they can survive longer than us without food?"

"N-no, sir, of course not."

"Then answer me this, Ghorek: why the fuck, did you not leave the kid any food to eat?"

The girl felt the grip loosen and she slid from Balak's grasp. She willed her arms to stop her fall, but they didn't rise fast enough, and she collided full force into the metal grate floor. The room began to spin. Balak stepped over her towards Ghorek.

"I- I just didn't think that..."

"I left you in charge, Ghorek. I gave you a very simple task. Watch over the kid. I feel like I haven't been heard."

"No, sir, I'm sorry, sir."

"I just feel bad for her, you know?"

"I... what?"

"You know what it feels like to starve, Ghorek?"

"No, sir."

"Me neither. But I've heard it feels very similar to a knife in your gut. Wouldn't you agree?"

There was a quick movement, a flash of something, and then the sound of a blade penetrating flesh. The girl heard Ghorek gasp. He stumbled forward, into Balak, who held him with the hand that wasn't gripping the knife.

"Does that feel about right?"

Ghorek gasped and sputtered a response the girl couldn't hear. Balak put his arm around him, embracing him.

"Go get yourself patched up, alright?"

A flash of crimson as the blade was pulled free.Ghorek stumbled, clutching his stomach. 

"Don't worry, I didn't hit anything vital." 

Ghorek stumbled toward the door. Wheezing.

"Go on. I would hate for anything bad to happen to you."

Ghorek disappeared through the door. Balak studied his knife before finally turning back to the girl. Sheathing the blade, he lifted the girl up and over his shoulder.

"You're not allowed to die yet, understand?"

The girl did her best to reply, only a shallow grunt left her lips. 

"Let's get you something to eat."

Balak headed towards the door, the girl draped over his shoulder. That's when she lost consciousness.

[whumpfessional]

Pain Killers

Just popping this little scene transition in here so that I can post the next scene to fulfill whumptober prompts 2 and 4.

let's have some more Ghorek and not knowing how to care for a human.

CW: slavery, references to past beating/pain

“Oh fuck!” A loud voice boomed. 

The girl was surprised Ghorek was still in the Engine Room when she slipped through the doors, trying to get through silently. Instead, the Batarian stood up, walking over to her.

Instinctively she scrambled backwards but the Batarian stopped when he saw her panic. “Calm down. I just want a look.”

Relaxing under the ability to follow orders, the girl stood still for Ghorek as he stepped closer. She hissed slightly as he poked at the bruise on her forehead but remained unmoving when he brushed over the split lip. 

Ghorek sucked air in through his teeth. “You look like crap, kid.” His face grew concerned, “Go lie down.” He stepped out of the way. The girl made her way to the small mat she kept pushed up against the wall. She lay down on her side, keeping her back to the wall. 

Her eyes fell down heavily and it felt like only seconds before a large hand grabbed her shoulder. The girl flinched up, rocketing herself to a seated position.  

It was just Ghorek crouching in front of her. He held a tin cup of water as well as half of a large white pill in his hand. 

“So, I looked up human skin turning purple and you have this thing called bruising? It doesn’t have any cure, it should just go away but the site said that painkillers can help. These are for Batarians but I cut it in half so it should be fine for you.” He spoke in a matter of fact tone, pushing the pill into her hand. “Did you eat anything?”

The girl took the pill, swallowing it before anyone could take it away from her before shaking her head. Ghorek grunted before getting up, heading out of the room.

The girl sat in silence, head quietly pounding against the inside of her skull. Painkillers. That was a rare one. Balak wouldn’t have thought to tell Ghorek not to. It was ridiculous, wasting meds on a human. But the edges of the pain were already beginning to smooth away when Ghorek returned. 

There was a steaming bowl in his hands which he placed on the floor in front of her, spoon clinking to the side. It contained a sort of meat and wild grain stew but the girl just looked up with a questioning face. 

“Eat.” Ghorek ordered, “otherwise the medication could hurt your stomach.” 

More orders. And to eat. The girl didn’t spare a moment, grabbing the bowl and bringing it close to her mouth. The stew was hot enough that she had to blow on it to cook it down. 

She ate slowly, taking from the outside of the bowl as it cooled the fastest. Her brain was overwhelmed with the treat of the warm food that it only half noticed Ghorek watching her eat, a considering look on his face. 

The spoon scraped the bottom sooner than she would have wanted and it took all her self control to not wipe a finger along the inside, still conscious of Ghorek watching her. She set it to the side, bowing her head to him. 

“Thank you very much,” the girl whispered, pressing her forehead to the ground for a moment. She hear Ghorek grunt and shuffle away towards the door. 

“Go to sleep.” He muttered as the door hissed open. The girl collapsed onto the mat before it slammed closed, lock clicking into place. 

The girl slept, disgusted at the tears that overflowed down her cheek.

[whumpfessional]

R7 and R20 for ghorek!

oh Anna, I’m sorry I’ve made you care about this character 😅 🤫

R7: Something about if they’ve bullied other people

Oh for sure. Ghorek comes from a culture where violent supremacy helps to establish your class position. I think of them as a little Klingon-y. But yeah, Ghorek isn’t a nice guy. He’s killed, he’s maimed. But there’s just something about this pathetic kid that he doesn’t like to see get kicked around.

R20: What does your character wish people knew about them?

Ghorek works in the engines because he wasn’t really able to fight anymore. He was in a fire fight that went very wrong and was one of the only people to walk out alive. Others say that he should be proud or shouldn’t let it bug him but he can’t control that his hands now shake too much to hold a gun.

[whumpfessional]

The Engine Room

Pt 9 of Circe’s Story, other parts in Masterpost.

We meet Ghorek! Someone who isn't a complete asshole! What a roller coaster.

Still kinda a dick.

Also I'm not an engineer and I didn't google anything so if anything is wrong, it's because this is a fictional universe and that's how it works here.

CW: Slavery, threat of violence but idk if it's whump persay

“Stupid fucking human!” The girl dodged a wrench hurtling towards her head, ducking behind an exhaust pipe. She moved deeper, finding her way in between the moving parts, away from the angry Batarian. 

Ghorek had been pissed when he found out that he was going to have a human helping him out in the engines and had made it very clear to anyone who would listen. A couple words from Balak had shut that down. It didn’t hurt that he now had someone to take care of all the tasks he had no interest in either. Which was most of them. 

“Can’t you fucking read? Useless birajuu!” The girl crouched amidst the machinery, listening to Ghorek huff and clang around. 

It was a minor mistake, accidentally topping up some of the coolant they used with a water-based one instead. It was pretty easy to flush the system and replace it, no one onboard would even notice the difference. 

Not that that mattered. She had made a mistake. Her hands curled into fists in her hiding spot, nails digging into her palms. 

Ghorek probably wouldn’t tell Balak, she reasoned, it would look bad on him that a stupid error had occurred when he was supposed to be watching. It was still best to wait for him to cool down, maybe for him to leave even. 

“Girl! Get out here now!” Fuck. An order. She began to work her way out of her hidden spot, moving as slowly as she dared, dragging out the inevitable. The girl pulled herself out from maze of pipes, muscles tensed to dodge the next thing thrown her way. 

Ghorek stood by the coolant system, tracking a gauge carefully on the side. He gestured for her to come over, pointing down by his side. 

He grumbled slightly as he pointed to the gauge, “See? Water has a lower boiling point than the coolant, so if it gets in, it can steam up and cause the pipes to burst from the extra pressure.” He pointed to a digital readout beside the gauge. “Here. This is the operating temperature of the engines. It should stay within a five degree range of this, alright?”

The girl gave a nod, muscles still tensed to bolt at any sudden movements towards her. Instead, Ghorek walked over to the storage area where they kept the supplies. He pointed to the barrels that she had gotten confused. They had been taken off of a Solarian ship they had boarded a few weeks back, pillaging any salvageable parts. “So,” he asked, turning back to her, “how did you fuck that up?” 

The girl looked mutely at her feet for a few moments before replying back, barely speaking above a whisper. “I don’t know Solarian, sir,” she pointed to the labels on the barrels, completely incomprehensible to her. 

Ghorek looked from the barrels and back to her a couple times before it clicked in his head and he let out a chuckle. “Of course,” he muttered, walking over to the barrels, “you don’t have an omnitool.” He pulled out a small knife and started to scratch into the sides of the barrel. It took a moment before he pulled back to inspect his handiwork. 

He had carved the Batarian words for the contents on the barrels. The girl looked at him with slight surprise before looking back down at the ground, remembering herself. 

“Hey.” Ghorek said sternly. The girl raised her gaze, watching him look around the engine storeroom. “I need you to tell me what else you can’t read.” 

She examined his face, trying to find whatever trap had been laid for her. Would there be consequences for not knowing words? Would he report to Balak that she wasn’t competent at her job? He seemed… honest. The girl took a couple cautious steps forward, pointing to some Asari packaging that had been brought in last time they stopped on Omega. 

Ghorek nodded, pulling a black marker out of his tool belt and writing OIL ABSORBENT. “For cleaning up oil spills,” he explained. They continued around the room, the girl pointing out foreign labels and Ghorek making sure she understood what they were used for. 

The girl did a last lap around the room before turning to Ghorek, tilting her head to the side slightly. “W-why?” She asked quietly, her gaze slipping to the floor. 

Ghorek cuffed her lightly on the head, more pushing it to the side than causing any pain or impact. “‘Cause I want to go get drunk and play cards and I can’t do that if you are fucking everything up down here.” He explained as turned to leave the engine room, stretching his arms over his head.

“Don’t blow us up, human.” He called behind him as he left. The girl paused for a moment, waiting until she heard the click of the lock before letting out an exhale, leaning against the wall. 

“I won’t.” She whispered, the words getting lost under the dull roar of the machines.

[gnomishspareparts]

[gnomishspareparts]

[gatecrashing-corneas]