#nackmore drack

[creaturefeaturecommando]

Mass Effect Characters that I think are black coded or poc coded since this game has like 3 black characters in the entire series but one dies, one is meh and the other is the worst fucking character in the series who’s every negative black stereotype in the book

Jaal Ama Darav- Fucking obvious. Tbh most Anagara are black. Maybe all of them. Yeah all of them.

Almost all Asari. Like I can’t even choose one because every one I meet gives me black woman vibes, even Liara, especially with how they’re sexualized constantly . I think all Asari are black women ot just women of color (shut the fuck up don’t say ‘they’re blue of course they’re woman of color’ I will eat your soul) but I’m claiming Liara, Matriarch Benezia, PeeBee, Samara, Morinth and Aria mostly

Most if not all Krogan but I’m claiming Wrex, Drack, Eve, Kesh and Grunt as black. The others can be whatever

Vetra, Syd and Kandros are my only black turians

If I’m claiming Salarians I’m only claiming Kirrahe and Kallo because Kallo reminds me of my nerdy ass brother

All prothean’s are black because they remind me of the angara

Thane is black and since he’s like the only Drell I know besides his son he’s the only one I claim as black plus his son. Maybe that one drell Liara likes or whatever but I don’t remember his name and I don’t care to google it

As for the other races like the Volus, Batarians, Vorcha and Hanar they can be whatever. I feel like Quarians or some sort of European coded but then you have Reegar who sounds like fucking soldier from TF2 so idk I’m not touching it

Also don’t come for me with “Oh why are you headcanoning most of the krogan as black they’re aggressive that’s stereotyping” which like in the game all krogans are stereotyped as aggressive but you have those who aren’t like Kesh but she’s treated as such by Tann and others just because she’s Krogan even though she’s a scientist who wants to use her brains, Eve who’s physically restrained even when she’s the one in danger all because of the stereotype of all Krogan being violent when she prefers to use her brains and even criticizes other Krogan for their old archaic ways of thinking with violence, like they’re treated how black women are treated all day every day 24/7 365. I’ll headcanon them as black if I want to.

If you want to know why I claim most of these characters as black feel free to ask but so far this is my list. Also I might do a thing where I draw a human design for the characters I think are black.

And if you disagree with these let me know why. Even though I most likely won’t read it because nine times out of ten when someone objects to a non human character being head cannoned as black it’s for racist reasons so I genuinely don’t really care if you disagree

[hellt00th]

Dude I have a problem I’m getting emotional over drack having a grandpa moment when he falls asleep on Ryder bc I know good and damn well this man would NOT be relaxed enough to pass the fuck out that hard unless he was completely sure he’s surrounded by friends. I mean he was sawing LOGS.

[clarke-mason]

it's that time of the year again guys!

let's goooooooooo

[lilithhawthorne]

Title: Blood of the Brotherhood Fandom: Mass Effect: Andromeda  Relationships: Sara Ryder x Jaal Rating: M Chapter: 1/? Fandom: ME:A Cross posted on A03 / FFN Next

Summary: In a desperate, last ditch effort to save her team, Sara Ryder transfers the Pathfinder duties to Cora before allowing herself to be taken by a merciless group of exiles. Deceiving them into believing she is still Pathfinder and willing to give them whatever they want, she boards their shuttle with the intention of keeping them fooled for as long as possible. As new light is shed on the motives behind her kidnapping, Ryder begins to question her role and her ability to lead. Is she a Pathfinder for all?

Ryder knew the battle was lost when she heard SAM’s voice, his warning crackling through her head with an edge so blunt she staggered with the impact: “Pathfinder, the power has been severed to the room. The other exits are blocked.”

“Great. On to ‘Plan B’ then.” Plan B… she had a handful of seconds to think of a Plan B.

She laid her pistol on the ground and pressed trembling fingers against her eyelids. The clip had been exhausted minutes before but she had held it out menacingly, scarring away heads that poked over cover with a threat she couldn’t back up. Her shotgun had been lost in the initial attack, a series of explosions sending the team reeling in search of cover. 

At the time, the squat, portable hovel common in all the settlements had seemed like their best bet. It had been easy with SAM’s help to lock the door behind them, buying them precious extra seconds to coordinate their retaliation. So concerned with covering the three points of entry - two doors and a window - Ryder didn’t notice the twisters of dust dancing above their head, disturbed from where it had rested just moments before on the floor.

Beside her Cora grunted, her arms trembling above her head. Sweat, before only a glistening patter across Cora’s forehead, ran in rivulets down her cheeks and into her eyes. Her barrier had been what was keeping them alive, their last hope as they held out for an override of the door they were pressed against.

Ryder didn’t know how to tell them it was over. She didn’t even know where to begin, how to unravel the thread of their story to find where it had begun just that morning, unpack how it lead to this.

Jaal caught her eye, his jaw tightening as he read something on her face. Noticing the pistol abandoned where she knelt, he reached across Cora to hook his fingers around Ryder’s elbow. His voice dropped as he pulled her closer to him and Cora, his tone tinted with a coloring of intimacy that belied their situation. “We can’t let them overwhelm us!”

As if they heard him, the exiles pushed forward. A new round of grenades rained from above and slid down Cora’s biotic barrier, some bouncing away while others pooled at the lip of the barrier. The explosion knocked her back, the barrier flickering before snuffing out. Her limbs were too heavy to lift again and she leaned against Jaal, her eyes unfocused and mouth slack. 

“Bring me the Pathfinder!” The roar of their leader carried easily across the space. This was a man who was used to being heard over gun fire and explosions. No, this was a man who <em>wanted</em> to heard over the sounds of war. His was a voice that would chase you straight into hell.  “She is the only one we need alive!”

“I won’t,” she assured Jaal. She held no intimacy in her tone, only wistful resignation. 

She took in the scene around them, felt a tremor in her bones as gun fire popped around them, bullets ricocheting. She thought of what it would mean if she couldn’t get them back to the Tempest: Jaal being killed, his mothers never knowing what happened; Cora’s limb body, drained and near to death already, left to rot in this metal tomb, denied a chance to plant her garden.

Plan B had to be the most batshit crazy idea she’d ever had, it had to be something that would guarantee Jaal and Cora’s survival, and by extension, the survival of the Tempest, her crew. No, not her crew: her family. 

”SAM, I’m going to ask you to do something and I need you to promise to do it.”

“Yes, Pathfinder.”

Could he predict what she was going to ask? Did being hardwired into her brain, given front row tickets to every stunt she’d pulled, give him an insight that allowed him to predict her moves? It was easy to imagine a web laid out in front of her, SAM calculating quicker than any human which direction she would take, resigning himself to accept the consequences.

Careful to keep below cover, she edged away from Jaal, crawling on her hands and knees. When the echo of shots subsided and was replaced with the sound of furious reloading, she ducked from behind cover, arms raised in the air and her useless pistol sling over one hip . A  bullet whizzed past her, lodging in the door behind her. “Don’t shoot! I’m the Pathfinder, I yield!”

The next few seconds of confusion bought her all the time she needed. Before Cora could protest and before Jaal could reach her, Ryder took another step forward. “SAM, transfer the Pathfinder connection to my second.”

“No!” Cora struggled to her feet, lost her footing and slid to the ground

“I’ll come with you!” Ryder shouted at the advancing line of troops, their guns still raised. Another bullet whizzed past her. Were they threatening her or just shit shots? “For fuck’s sake, I’ll give you what you want but that might be hard to do if you shoot me.”

“Stop firing, you idiots!” The voice rang out again and though Ryder looked for the source, she couldn’t tell who was speaking. They all stared back at her through the same dirty brown visors, it was impossible to differentiate them.

A dozen guns lowered near simultaneously. The air crackled with silence, the sudden turn of events taking everyone by surprise. Ryder pressed her lips together to keep from choking on the dust.

When she was sure she had everyone’s attention, surrounded from the front by an unknown force intent on who knows what, motivated from the back by the force of lives dependent on her, she made her demands: “I go with you without a fight and they get to leave, unharmed.” She raised her fingers to start a count.  "And no one follows them. And you don’t blindfold me, I’m not into that.“

"We don’t negotiate,” one of the exiles spat at her. He rushed to fill the gap between them, his long legs making quick work of the distance. To illustrate his point, he swung his gun towards the stack of crates she had been cowering behind moments before. “You’re the only one we require.”

“I’ll make it easy, there’s no need to negotiate.“ She stepped in front of his gun and pulled her own, holding the muzzle to the space beneath her chin. ”Someone wants me alive. Are you going to be the one to disappoint? In my experience, schemes like this tend to thrive when the person you’re trying to take alive doesn’t die.”

“Come now, we can speak about this like adults.” Jostled aside from behind, the exile yield the floor to the man whose voice matched the commands Ryder had been hearing.

Noticeably absent of any weapons, this one was dressed differently than the shock troops they had squared off against. No armor, dressed like a man running errands, Ryder wondered where he had been this whole time - surely it couldn’t have been in the midst of all that had happened. He approached with his chin held high and arms folded loosely behind his back. About the same size as Ryder, he moved like a caged beast. Underestimating him based on his small stature hinted at being the wrong choice. 

"Oh, no wonder I couldn’t see you!” Ryder snapped her fingers together like she had just solved the most pressing mystery of the day. “I never look down, it’s a bad habit I know. I’m always tripping over my feet.”

He inspected Ryder like a disappointed teacher preparing to lecture his least favorite pupil. When his gaze swept over her, climbing slowly from her feet to the top of her head, her stomach soured. She matched his gaze and titled her to the side, a dangerous smile hiding the panic she felt. 

“Your terms are acceptable,” he conceded. Without turning away from her, he dictated a series of orders in a language she didn’t recognize and her translator couldn’t pick up.

With an expectant and wicked smile, he focused his attention on her once more and held out his hand. “Your weapon.”

She had already decided when she saw Cora’s barrier falter that she would be willing to do anything to get the other two off this damned astroid. Holding onto a useless weapon and risking their ire was not part of the plan and she handed it over willingly. She had other ways of making them regret trapping them when it was time.

He examined the gun with a shrewd eye, the fingers of his free hand roaming over the barrel and grip before finding the clip release. Surprise, followed by a twisted smile of approval, blossomed across his shriveled features. “How bold.

“I was never very good at math, could have sworn I had one bullet left,” Ryder said with a shrug. “I would never willingly deceive you.”

Quick as a viper strike, he grasped her upper arm and jerked her forward, his grip strong enough to pinch her skin beneath the armor. The smile had melted, his face pulled into a scowl that left crevices in his brow and cheeks. “It would be best not to test me,” he hissed in her ear before shoving her backwards. “Take her now!

“NO!” 

Ryder turned to see Jaal rushing from cover with his gun raised. Cora reached out to stop him, her hand closing on the edges of his cape for a single heart beat before it ripped from her finger tips. She lowered her arm in defeat, agony etched deeply in her sallow features.

The air disappeared, sucked out of the room or else out of Ryder’s lungs, speckles of dust halting their downward spiral to hang in the air like decoration. She counted the steps it would take for Jaal to reach her and the number of bullets that would hit their mark when he did.

Careening recklessly, she thrust herself in front of Jaal, her hands held out to stop him. She meant to yell at him, tell him to stop or urge him to turn back, but the words fizzed on her tongue when she heard the pop of a round being fired behind her.

It was hard to tell what was worse, the loss of feeling in her legs or the ripping sensation across her back that sent shockwaves of spams through her body. The ground was not kind as she bowed to meet it. Another sharp pain stabbed through her shoulder and she finally gasped, the air bubbling in her throat. 

Through a rapidly narrowing tunnel, she saw Jaa thrown to the ground. A glimpse of a boot pressed against his chest. The muzzle of a gun swung low, an easy shot.

“Leave them!” She winced as the shout reverberated in her ear. “Get her out of here. When I find out who pulled the fucking trigger - 

Blissful darkness and silence finally enveloped her as frightfully strong arms gripped her around the middle, lifting her off the ground and into unconsciousness.

- - -

Cora heard the door’s lock click seconds before it hissed open. She had triggered the motion activated mechanism being pressed so closely to the metal, but she was too tired to shift her body away from the door in time. Yelping in pain, she fell through the opening, tumbling onto the stairs, only a last second decision keeping her from snapping her wrists as she attempted to catch herself.

Starved of fresh air, she drew in as many lung fulls as she could handle without making herself black out. Even in the open she could smell the sweat and dust that clung to her. Without the stench, she might have confused the silence all around her for peace. 

Bruised and limping, Jaal followed her out into the open, although his entrance was less dramatic. If he noticed the tumble Cora took, he didn’t make a move to help her up. Instead he lowered himself to the top step. 

The pair sat in silence, drifting through space the same as they had been when they had first left the Tempest. Neither could say how long ago that had been. Time had stopped for them while they had been trapped but apparently it had kept a linear path all around them.

“We lost the Pathfinder,” Cora finally said.

“No, we have the Pathfinder.” Jaal’s hand found hers and he gave her a consolatory squeeze. “We lost something we can’t replace.”

[jtmarx]

Another funny thing about Andromeda is how Drack comes across like such a dick in your first meeting and then you realize he’s just your unproblematic drunk space uncle

[ferainart]

“Getting tired yet, old man?”

“Keep dreaming, kid.”

More downtime moments on the Tempest.

[jubberry]

a sketch of drack for his week :D (minor andromeda spoilers below)

 God I love the bit where drack talks to ryder about how he had major deppression until he raised Kesh. Kesh basically gave this big old, war-mongering beast a reason to live. This tiny, little baby girl did that and honestly learning about that was the best part in andromeda for me  ;-;  

[silversiphonart]

Galaxy Series: Nackmor Drack

More galaxies, more Mass Effect! I loved Andromeda, in spite of all the hate it got. Drack is my favorite krogan grandpa, and it was a lot of fun to draw him for this one. 

Patreon | Commissions | Society6

[honestlyvan]

character for shipping: magnus?

I'm drawn to crossovers for some reason

TFP!Ultra Magnus/Nackmor Drack

but like... specifically Mags<3<Drack and Mags->Drack. Pining after the one criminal who got away and is also, tragically, the only real good fight he's had in his fucking life. And so his anger never cools off as he stays forever youthful and determined while Drack grows old and tired and perpetually wonders why this one specific big fuck-off synthetic is so obsessed with him.

(The answer is because Drack left him in enough pieces that he needed to be trailered back to Autobase for repairs. Alive, yes -- incredibly pissed off at losing and the lawbreakers going unpunished? Also yes.)

[wishfxljikan]

MUSE INSPIRATIONS - ORION

R’tas Vadum (Halo 2 / 3 - Bungie / 2004/2007) Mad Rat (MAD RAT DEAD - NIS / 2020) Nackmor Drack (Mass Effect: Andromeda - Bioware / EA - 2017) Revali (Breath of the Wild - Nintendo - 2017) Saren Arterius (Mass Effect 1 / Mass Effect Comics - Bioware / EA - 2007) Deimos (Madness Combat - Matt Jolly -  2005)

These were the main 6 characters that gave BIG inspiration towards Orion’s character creation, not just my dumb as a baseline, but, yeah, Some of my friends wanted to know, so here you go.

[ilikalite]

As I watched Ray Ryder go up or down the gravity well in Mass Effect Andromeda, I couldn't help thinking what other party members were doing at the time? Were they enjoying it? Were they gliding in style? Were they feeling motion sickness? So I drew it. In a chibified mode and no helmets, because I don't like them, and with a tiny bonus at the bottom  Click here for a bigger picture (takes you to Deviantart). See my other Mass Effect fanart here

[pathofcomets]

soldier, keep on marching on (3)

fandom: mass effect andromeda

pairing: (eventual) jaal/ryder

summary: Sara Ryder will replay that moment before she died for the first time many times afterwards.

playlist: spotify

Sara didn’t image that mourning a death will take so many celebrations. Doctor Carlyle takes her through the basics regarding her new connection with SAM, a voice now ever-present, experiences always shared. But the Nexus staff – her bosses now, she thinks – are quick to celebrate the new Pathfinder and the return of the human ark. She sits through the speeches, feeling her skin crawl with how much she despises everything. She wants to curl up in her dad’s bed and cry. Scott has still not woken up. Cora is upset with her now, over a situation she had no say in. She gets it though: working your entire life for something, and see a good-at-nothing fledgling take over instead.

And she hates Foster Addison, with her cutting words and the superiority complex that has no backing. Director Tann at least knows his limits and apologizes when he’s wrong, though he seems to keep an air of superiority that irks Sara more than the direct aggression of his human counterpart. Kandros is too busy with his teams to pay too much attention to her, though he is nice whenever she passes by his office. Kesh though, Kesh could become a friend, because she is the only one who takes the leftover Ryder seriously. Like someone who is here to get things done, as much as anyone else.

Of course, Sara has not been trained for any of this. But she is her father’s daughter, and when thrown in the midst of Eos with only a new crew that she has no idea how to make her friends, she picks up her gun and carries on. She takes Vetra and Cora – one because she has no idea what she’s capable of, and the other because she knows exactly what she’s capable of. There’s still some stiffness and awkwardness between them, but in the middle of a battle, it won’t matter.

It goes away when the Pathfinder jumps in the middle of a battle, her shields trembling all around her as bullets fly off, trusting her team to have her back. Later on, Vetra will attribute it to the fact that she’s never been in actual combat – just the training on the Citadel. Because Sara Ryder has no regard for her well-being, accepting chips in her armour if it gets her closer to a clean head-shot. Adrenaline junkie like her father and brother, Cora will say. But for Sara, this is just the way she knows how to fight: straight through the enemy lines, no pain no gain. And because the others are the veteran fighters, they learn to accommodate the erratic battle style of their Pathfinder. In the middle of a battle, the only thing that matters if they end up alive on the other side.

“You fight like that; you win the battle. Not sure if you’ll last to see the entire war through, though,” Vetra chastises when they’re going through broken armours and containers.

“It’s the only way I know how,” Sara replies, but so frustrated that she is close to tears.

She loved sniper training, once, when she was young: but when enemies drop from the air, when beasts are unleashed on her, she can do nothing but hope she has enough bullets in her gun and shoot. She has no idea how to properly fight, her body just goes on auto-pilot, survival being the only thing that matters. That she’s brimming with anger, which numbs the cut of the bullets or the itch of a bite, then that’s the bonus.

Still, her fighting is no more erratic than that of Nackmor Drack. He’s a legend between his people, SAM lets her know – and apparently an acquaintance of Vetra. Sara knows, immediately, that she wants to fight by this man’s side, though he is wary of the Initiative. She understands why, because after seeing the state of the Nexus, she wouldn’t want to be associated with it either. Too bad she has no choice in the matter, their insignia over her suit, her ship flying in their name.

The truth is, Sara is not doing anything in the name of the Initiative, but in that of her family. Whatever the Pathfinder may mean for the Nexus, for humanity – for her it’s the last few links she has with her dead parents and her comatose brother. She pushes forward, fighting Remnant and Kett alike because if she’d stop, the Ryder name would not go on, all the work of her parents would be for nothing. She cannot let that happen now, on the other side of the universe, when they tried so hard to make it happen in the first place, when they threw away not their own life, but that of their children as well. Her mother died because of her work, not before she had her son born with biotics. Her father died for his work, not before passing over his title and responsibilities to his daughter. They were always making sure to share things equally between the twins.

If Scott were to wake up, he’d say it’s not fair that she’s got a head start, while he is still sleeping. Sara closes her eyes against the churning sun, in the middle of the desert, and tries not to think how far away a world in which she heard his voice is. Then she fights more Remnant, preparing to start up vaults and terraform worlds.

She’s pretty sure that’s not in the job description. She’s pretty sure she’s not even being paid for this job. But she has no choice. If she stops to question it, if she stops from running around, listening to SAM, uncovering the secrets of the Andromeda galaxy, then no one else will survive. This is a life and death matter, for four different species.

Why on Earth did Alec Ryder think that his historian daughter would be fit for this? Even her schooling is nothing compared to Peebe’s bright curiosity – and she allows her to join them in revving up the Remnant technology because SAM cannot know absolutely everything, only guess.

She remembers the dust, coming to swallow up intruders, and as she runs for the door, air burning her lungs, stinging at her eyes, Sara Ryder loses herself inside her own mind. Her body works on its own, at saving her, and she crushes into Vetra’s hard shell when finally, the door closes shut behind them, rendering them safe. She rubs at her nose, silently accepts Cora’s outstretched arm to stabilize herself.

She has run away from something like this once before. She lost her father to it. In her gaze, the others can read this painful truth, and know that wherever the Pathfinder is right now, it’s not here with them anymore.

SAM’s voice is soothing inside her brain, familiar enough not to panic her even further, but firm enough that she snaps out of it. Of course, they managed to terraform Eos. It’ll take months, years, maybe even decades before the effects will show, but the planet is now habitable. The sun won’t burn off layers of skin anymore, though the desert heat remains almost unbearable, the mind playing tricks in the scorching rays.

“An outpost?” Cora asks, because that’s the actual Pathfinder procedure, that’s what they’ve been sent out to do, at the end of the day.

The rest is just making sure the people she’s sending out won’t die anymore.

[clarke-mason]

anyone knows blogs where i could find mass effect andromeda icons (preferably of default scott)? since i am replaying the game now i got into the mood of changing my icon

[evilsapphyre]

Reyes doesn’t worry about Ryder when she is alone in Kadara Port after the Collective takes over. 

Not because of him (he kids himself that he’s the second scariest thing that would happen if someone tried). 

Nobody wants to risk pissing off Nakmor Drack.

[ladysorceress]

[the-fandom-nerd]

“Nothing like a movie night with the crew...” I finished Mass Effect Andromeda yesterday, and the movie night quest definitely ended up being one of my favorites. It was nice seeing everyone on the tempest together and having fun. wait...where’s Vetra???