#turian mannerisms

[justice4nihlus]

Turian Behavior and Mannerisms by Oblivious-Man this is such a well thought out read

[average-mako-enjoyer]

Bigots and Failed Promises of Mass Effect games

(I had this thing in my drafts for almost a month, and it would have stayed there if not for the wonderful post by @androidtrashfire, because I saw it, and I was like: "Fuck it, I have to rant about these games." I love Mass Effect, and I really think we should critique it. We should criticize things we love because silence = compliance.)

So I was talking to @liss-art recently about the bigoted fans in the Mass Effect fandom, and I think I need to make a post about it because it's something that really, truly bothers me, and it needs to be addressed.

Canon

Mass Effect is a story about deeply flawed people with a lot of problems, and through them it touches on issues like xenophobia, sexism, corruption, elitism, morality, identity. That's why we like it, right? But why are there so many bigots in the fandom? My theory is that it happens because Mass Effect, for all its supposed complexity, only touches on these issues without giving any meaningful commentary on them.

Here are a few obvious examples:

The Quarians are a distasteful allegory of the Roma people (right down to their accents). They are persecuted and ostracized for creating Geth, but the game never gives us any socio-political reasons why the Quarians did that. They just developed real AI because they were naive and stupid? Or because they were the only ones smart enough to do it? Did they do it in secret? Why did other races not make the same mistake?

Same with the Batarians. Yes, the game mentions tensions between humans and Batarians because humans try to claim territories that Batarians think are theirs, but that's about it. Batarians are all racist slave traders and they're bad, don't think about it, here's some memes about 300,000 of them dying, good job. And yes, I know you can read more about their history in the Codex (why is it an Asari who writes about Batarian history,btw?), but it's basically the same thing as saying D*mbledore is gay (I really am sorry for this reference). If no one ever mentions this rich Batarian history, then it doesn't exist.

And please don't get me started on Hanar. They "mercifully" saved the Drell by inviting them to their planet, immediately assimilated them into their own faith and also put them in conditions where they have to train as assassins from the ripe old age of 6 and eventually die of sci-fi lung cancer. But don't worry about it, Drell actually love to serve the Hanar, they do it willingly and consider their servitude an honor. Do you really want to criticize some stupid jellyfish who talk funny? Do you really want to talk about why the so-called Council races do nothing about it? LOL

Another thing the trilogy does is present entire races, including humans, as amorphous blobs. Do all Asari believe in the same "goddess"? Do all Turians obey the same Primarch? Well, what's important is that all humans in this bright future speak English.

But what about the genophage? That's a profound story, right? Well, not really, and it raises more questions than it answers. We hear a lot about how brutal, aggressive, and short-tempered Krogans are, but every single Krogan we meet is extremely well-mannered, and they only resort to violence against other races in dire circumstances. So why not save them? Does the game really present you with this moral dilemma or not?

And can anyone tell me why Salarians are allowed to abduct and experiment on sentient beings, and why Turians are allowed to wage wars? Why does no one talk about Asari in this context?

I really want to say that at least the characters are well written, but I can't because they're not.

Kaidan is a good example of this. We are told about his implant, we are told that he has chronic pain, but do we see him suffer from it? Do we see him in those moments of weakness and vulnerability?

The scene where he gets annoyed with Jenkins acting like he's a circus monkey who has to do a trick and biotically throws a cup at him was cut from the game. We occasionally hear him mention some of the side effects of his migraines ("Too many lights, too much noise"), but that's about it. What has happened to "show, don't tell"? And no, I'm not saying that the writers should feed me the story or walk me through it. What I am saying is that if you gloss over your characters' mistakes, flaws, and circumstances, you're getting people to ignore them. Do people who call Kaidan "boring" and insult him think about how his chronic pain, his trauma from Brain Camp, and the loss of Jenkins and Ashley affect who he is? Hell no.

Thane is another great example. What Mass Effect is telling us as a story is that you can completely abandon your family and your child and be forgiven if your reason for doing it is good and heroic enough. Like avenging your dead wife, because of course there has to be a dead woman thrown somewhere.

Everyone's favorite Garrus (mine too) is a cop whose character arc basically consists of deciding that he is above the law (since the law forbids him from killing people he thinks should die) and then involving his squadmate/friend/partner (depending on your playthrough) in the public assassination of his former squadmate, whom he never even bothered to confront first. Are there any consequences for Garrus for his actions? No. Again, it's all glossed over, and that's unfortunate because it removes the conflict and therefore the character development and depth.

And if you're going to tell me that ME is just a space opera, and that I should just enjoy the spectacle and the romance, then I'm going to tell you that I know that, and that I think it's a wonderful spectacle, and that some of the romance subplots are absolutely amazing story-wise, but the superficial commentary (or lack thereof) on the most important issues that ME covers actually harms the audience.

Fandom

On the one hand, we have people making mods that remove all the clothes from all the female characters (or remove all of femShep's organs and replace them with giant tits). We have people reposting that horrible, horrible art of Miranda and Jack fighting, tearing each other's hair and clothes, and maleShep smirking and saying "I should stay". We have people who say ME2 is the best game in the series because "there are no f*gs". On the other hand, we have people saying things like "there are two Commander Shepards - female and the wrong one". We have people who say "only weird people play as dudebro in 2024". We have people who think that simply playing as a female character is some kind of feminist statement, and that it makes them better and smarter than everyone else (the same people who use the term "dude gamer" as an insult). And all of those things are kind of the trilogy's fault.

Both maleShep and femShep have the same story. The only differences are the romance options, sexist remarks directed only at femShep, and flirtations from various NPCs directed only at femShep. What this tells you is that sexism exists in the Mass Effect universe, and only women suffer from it. It also tells you that only women are worth flirting with.

Another thing this game does (and modern games like Cyberpunk do the same thing) is equate the female experience to the male experience by giving both femShep and maleShep the same lines.

So there are some mixed signals here. Sexism exists and doesn't exist in this universe, Shepard is both genderless and very gendered, romances with underdeveloped characters are all over the place, and bigots thrive in this kind of environment.

The lack of commentary, the lack of perspective, the disastrous worldbuilding allows you to freely choose your sexist, racist adventure and not be punished by the story in any way.

Mirrors

There's a passage from Solaris that I absolutely adore and think about often.

"We don't want to conquer the cosmos, we simply want to extend the boundaries of Earth to the frontiers of the cosmos. […] We have no need of other worlds. We need mirrors. We don't know what to do with other worlds. A single world, our own, suffices us; but we can't accept it for what it is."

I think that perfectly describes what Mass Effect is as a universe. And in a way, it's a reason why it's so compelling. It's just empty enough for us to invest in it, to fill in the blanks of that narrative with the stories of our own. And it's also a reason why this fandom is a fucking hellscape.

[sol-consort]

Specialist Traynor: I have to ask do all war reporters look so, um, feminine? I mean, you're made up so well.

Diana Allers: We actually have a research department for that. They focus-test looks, voice, manner.

Diana Allers: Apparently, girly is good. Asari pay more attention. Salarians relate to high-pitched voices.

Specialist Traynor: And turians?

Diana Allers: Turians are nuts. A civilization of war nerds. Loyal viewers, but they write the creepiest fan mail.

-

Human fan mail: "heyyy omfg I love you <3"

Asari fan mail: "You're kinda cute, may the goddess watch over you."

Salarian fan mail: "I really enjoy watching your segments, They're very informative and pleasing to the ear"

Turian fan mail: "Hey, I saw you on TV, and I just thought you looked very beautiful–your waist is especially eye-catching. I had to tell you that. It's really rare to see humans with an interest in military operations, haha. I don't know why. It's very attractive and refreshing to see you, lol. So, like which gun is your favourite? I prefer a good, sleek sniper. Have you ever shot one before? I could teach you, it's easier than most people think and your ears get used to the piercing sound after like the twentieth time around. Or would you prefer a shotgun? I bet you would ;) I wish you were here on the battlefield with the rest of us, it is such a blast (literally!) But I understand that humans are too squishy and weak to hold their own, don't worry, I'll protect you. Did I mention that I'm your biggest fan? I never ever watch any other news segment besides your own, in fact not even turian ones! I would be immensely devastated if you ever end your show, I can't imagine starting my day without seeing your face of hearing your voice...even if it's just from a screen, I even replay your past segments while working out. It helps me imagine that I'm training while you're in the room. I never cared for human much before this but you've changed my entire world view, I would move to earth permanently if it meant I get the chance to meet you, let alone breathe the same air as you. What kind of detergent do you use for your clothes? You should tell your viewers in your next episode so that anyone who wants can pick up a bottle from the store, then I'll be able wash my sheets with it and imagine how your scent must be like."

[teamdilf]

The latest Team DILF fic is now up!

Wrex discovers fractal wood burning. Castis is forced to intervene to prevent disaster.

“Buncha art went viral on krogan social media last week - wood with lightning burned into it? Pretty as shit and krogan are talking about building furniture with it. You’ve got a microwave, right?”

“Like all turians who have completed basic training, I have access to a microwave, yes.”

“Oh, this is a shit idea,” Alec says, chuckling, leaving him wondering just what specific manner of carnage Wrex has planned, and what it has to do with the device he uses to transform chilled pasta into lukewarm pasta with pockets of sauce as hot as molten lava.

Ceci has told him repeatedly that he uses the microwave improperly and that there are a multitude of settings that ensure food does not warm up to the consistency of shoe leather. He maintains there is a single useful button on the device, and that is the one that allows him to add 30 seconds to the cook time repeatedly, until leftovers are heated to a food-safe temperature.

[hanasnx]

do you think garrus is capable of jealousy? I think he’s pretty levelheaded and even-tempered for the most part but he probably would feel bitter if it came to someone he liked a lot

i’m so so so glad you brought this up. yes. garrus wants everyone to believe he doesn’t get jealous, and for the most part he doesn’t. when he is, he’s an expert at concealing it. however, he just exhibits different mannerisms you come to learn.

when he’s jealous, he gets quiet and he removes himself from the situation before he reveals too much of his irritability. like he doesn’t give you the chance to guess he’s jealous. he’s not easily threatened, but i like to think if another turian specifically showed interest and you didn’t exactly turn their attention away he’d get mildly sulky. hole himself away in the main battery to calm his nerves, and then opt not to mention it to you unless you grill him.

he’s not very territorial in the way that makes him prove his sense of possession over you. in fact he believes you and your relationship with him to be committed yet free spirited. he’s not the type to stake his claim publicly with any PDA but he might slip in a, “oh, you like smart women, eh? so does her boyfriend.” with a step forward, just so the guy knows who he’s dealing with. but he rarely finds the situation pressing enough to come to that. usually you handle yourself just fine, and he loves to watch you do it.

he’s rather private—even with you—that he deals with negative feelings that are logically inessential. he wants you to remember him as capable, even tempered, and able to push past overwhelming emotion for the sake of professionalism and public appearance. he doesn’t want you to know he deals with something as low as jealousy, even though it’s a perfectly normal emotion to experience

[wispythreads]

Replaying Mass Effect 1 Thoughts

Prologue (Female Shepard, Spacer, Sole Survivor, Infiltrator, Paragon-ish):

I'm again wishing for a version of events where Nihlus's plan is what actually occurs in the game, through him somehow surviving Saren... he seemed really cool, I really would've liked to have learned more about him.

fuck it's been long enough that the creepy bits of Eden Prime are still fucking creepy holy hell

What do you mean Ashely can't wear heavy armor yet???

Kaidan... Um... *wrapping in bubble wrap* ... *assesses* ... *wraps off one more layer for good measure* let's try to stop you from dying so much, yeah?

The Citadel - Expose Saren:

Preaching Hanar vs. Very Tired C-Sec Turian who cannot understand why anyone would be acting outside a rule-abiding, orderly manner is still such a fun little quick and easy quest. "Bro I get it just take the credits you need for a license."

GarrusGarrusGarrusGarrusGarrusGarrusGarrusGarrusGarrus!!!!!

God my Salarian bias is already showing we're barely in this game. Chorban is cute.

Hey a named Turian in this bar can I talk to you? *Attempts to interact, nothing happens* No... ok. *loops around again after conducting business, walks past him* "She left me. Just like that." (said in this most mournful, sad, pathetic voice) Ooooh my god =< (wish I could just. Turn around and give him some company for a bit.)

(Picking up Garrus from the Med Clinic, right after he responds to me asking "Why do you want to take down Saren?") He sounds so mad and so personally offended that he couldn't find anything about Saren during his investigation, I don't mean it in a demeaning way but I want to laugh listening to him.

I get +2 Renegade just because I told Garrus he had a nice shot- y'know what worth it. He did. Yeah it was dangerous but what else was he gonna do? It looked sick and he looked sick doing it.

What do you mean Garrus can't wear medium armor yet?!?!

How often does my poor paragon Shepard wince as total strangers immediately bring up Akuze and how remarkable it was that she survived, while trying to keep her friendly smile now plastered on her face? How uncomfortable it must be, for every new acquaintance to immediately remind you of the worst moment of your life, a moment you’d never want to go through ever again. How often does she have nightmares about it, especially considering how it seems no one will let her forget?

"Holy shit maybe veteran mode has some kick to it. Jesus my poor guys." (The bar fight was. Not great. A lot of enemies coming on either side with minimal cover for everyone. Garrus and Wrex went down fast multiple times before I finally got the hang of coordinating attacks and giving out orders)

Misc. Citadel Quests:

"You're with the Alliance? My brother's a private back on earth!" Hey yeah I remember you hello again :) wait your voice sounds like I've heard it from somewhere outside Mass Effect, where have I- !!! Tandi!! Hello hello!!

She is too close too close there is no need for this personal space personal space back OFF (just. Seizing up all stiff-like and uncomfortable. There is no need for the Consort to get up on me like that while trying to get me to help her.)

I feel bad making Paragon responses during personal talks with Garrus in Normandy. Especially the very first one: "Maybe I'll finally be able to do what I want for a change" being met with such a harsh "If you put innocents at risk than no, we do things the right way, not the fast way, got it?" like… I still have his "I wasn't- yes, Commander." echoing in my head, like that's not what I meant by "maybe." Garrus has a point, sometimes rules get in the way of being able to do the right thing, and as long as we're on the same page about that and respect that there's a reason there are rules in the first place, we're golden.

(Jenna Quest) Chellick getting mad at Shepard and going "with all due respect Shepard what the hell were you thinking?" is 100% appropriate, I was also just head in my hands seeing there were no discreet options for Shepard to address Jenna with. "You could've blown Jenna's cover!" - Me and Chellik shaking Shepard by the shoulders. Garrus you were right with me, why didn't you say something? You should know better!

(Getting flashbacks to the friendzone quickly dragging me into the romance zone like quicksand Kaidan I like you but not like that stop game I chose "Yeah I do talk with everyone like this" don't still make it seem like I'm flirting with the man by adding "I don't always enjoy it with everyone" bro!!!)

Feros:

… Everyone is acting incredibly suspicious around this camp. Me asking for a little bit of information about the colony only to constantly be redirected to speak with the leader about it in either a firm or nervous way… Fai Dan and Arcelia when I say the colonists are acting strange I'm not talking about the obvious PTSD of civilians thrust into a warzone, I'm talking about how no one is willing to look me in the eye and talk to me about the colony they're all a part of, as if they're not allowed to, as if they might let something slip that they shouldn't.

(I completely forgot about the details of the Thorian plot. Thanks brain, for once your terrible memory gave me a benefit, allowing me to relive something cool again.)

Misc. Quests again:

The last two worlds I went on (Amaranthine and the moon Presrop) were both absolutely gorgeous??? I was only there for a short sidequest???

(Finished all the side quests I could find on my own (including Tali + Wrex + Garrus's personal quests) and returning to the Citadel to find the last Keeper needing to be scan/tell Garoth his brother is dead) Ok I've got a lot of equipment and a lot of money. Can I please have some decent armor for Garrus finally so that he stops dying on me? (Morlan's Famous Shop) Huh. Mercenary armor for turians? I wonder what red looks like on Garrus. (buys it, equips it) Holy shit that looks cool!!

I'm very sorry for your loss, Garoth, I wish I could've been the bearer of good ne- I KNEW you were in the Citadel Tower! (Scanned the last keeper. Happy victory music.)

Noveria:

Garrus: Commander, we should bring Liara with us. If anyone would know about her mother, it'd be her. Me: Story-wise, yes, it'd make more sense to bring Liara. But then I'd have to leave either you or Wrex on the ship =( (I'm planning on actually doing a run with my biotic pure paragon m!shephard with Liara and Tali as my designated squad mates later)

"Lorik you are so very fun to talk with :)" Him trying to use a human expression that just doesn't sound right, either because it's one I haven't heard or is just too far off from what he's trying to allude to, "fly in the lotion." Asking me to "try not to get blood on the carpet," commenting about how "humans are so full of questions, I should write a book about it while I've got the time," and ""Let me go?" Do humans view conversation as a form of imprisonment? Maybe that's why so few are willing to stop and sit down…" he's neat I like 'im.

Omfg Anoleis is such a fucking asshole. Salarian bias does still make it very funny to listen to him, rather than upsetting. His fast "Yes, what? What?" as he's being interrupted from whatever business he was doing by his secretary. Him jumping to the conclusion that because I'm a spacer I'm a tax dodger like holy hell dude. Say you're a massive hater without saying you're a hater my god.

After getting ambushed by Geth in the Garage: "Shepard, what did you do?!" ???? "Defended myself?" I love how offended Shepard gets in response we're on the same page like what do you mean, "What did I do???" You think I wanted to be killed by Geth?

Maybe unpopular opinion here but I think it is absolute bullshit that Benevia has to die no matter what. You bring Liara with you? Cool, does nothing. She'll still die, it'll just maybe end up a little more emotional. I don't think enough had happened to really justify her being beyond salvation.

Geth Incursion Side Mission:

Here's the great thing about Wrex: I can be extremely weary and tired and done with the endless waves of enemies, wanting it all to be over already, and then suddenly he'll pipe up with a deep, gravelly, EARNEST laugh and make some comment about how much he's enjoying himself, how much he's going to miss this once the fighting is over, and I'll let the weariness wash off my back and give him a tired smile. Alright. I can handle one more fight.

Virmire:

… (takes deep breath after killing the indoctrinated private Menos Avot that had been pleading to be set free) … He was doomed either way. If I didn't let him out, he'd die in the explosion. It's better to try and save him and be forced to defend myself than to ensure he'd die. It'll be ok.

… I really, really do want to save Kaidan, but that's just… how this goes logically in my head. Ashley feels like she should go with the Salarians, and… and that's a lot more lives that need saving. But god does it suck. How accepting he is of the end. Watching him continuing to struggle against the oncoming Geth, wounded, pressed right up against the bomb that's going to nuke everything around him, watching as the Normandy flies away. And Shepard watching, seeing the explosion for herself. A life she and I chose to die. And the music afterword... it still makes me feel very melancholic and depressed jeez… (the pure!paragon m!shepard will have Kaidan live. I need one playthrough at least that has him survive, even if this path is the one that makes the most sense to me)

Endgame Time Let's Go Woot!

Got myself ungrounded from the Citadel, and I'm endeared by Garrus's little anxious "I can't believe we stole the Normandy…!" Because y'know what, yeah, after I've been playing a very by the book character that he was just a couple missions ago coming around to the idea of and realizing, 'yeah, I am hot headed, and just because it's not the fastest doesn't mean I shouldn't be playing by the rules, I'll get back on C-Sec and become a Spectre,' he has every right to then be asking "After everything you told me… it seems a bit extreme, doesn't it…?" Gosh he wants to be a badass rebel but he is in reality a gosh darn nerd. (said very lovingly)

!!!! AHHHH GET AWAY FROM ME GETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAY!!!!!!!!!!!! (The reanimated Saren corpse crawling at me on all fours had a. slightly more viscerally horrified reaction than I thought would happen as soon as the game cut from the cinematic back to gameplay.)

Final Thoughts:

I honestly think this game holds up really well for how old it is. There was an annoying glitch on Noveria that made itself known again on Ilos, blocking out interactable objects and moving characters with literal black blocks, but that was an easy fix and didn't effect the actual gameplay too badly.

The art is phenomenal, the combination of artistic choices and lighting and sound design and music scratches that very good itch of what I enjoy about sci-fi. Really great characters, great set up and pay-off in the story, great ending, just a fun time all around.

[ferniliciousness]

I need to know what The Boyz is so bad

From this WIP ask game MY BOYZ! I was hoping someone would ask about them lol. It's about my friend and mine's Turian OC's Florol and Markith. I haven't done much with either of them but I love them both dearly. The best Turian couple 3> The little excerpt here is the beginning of the story of how they met, but essentially, they get drunk at a bar, shit happens, and then they both see each other at work the next day and go, oh shit lmao.

Relaxing..... Relaxing.... Spirits who knew that simple task would be so hard. Markith's head rested in his hands while he let out a mumbling groan. It was bad enough he had been stationed on the Citadel. 'Diplomatic' business they had said. What a bunch of bullshit he said. How they expected him to 'take a break from his duties' when he's been doing nothing but escorting shipments INSIDE the station he had no clue. Damn, I miss my gun, my unit, hell I even miss being bossed around. He had no idea what he was doing with all the free time on his hands. "Go to Flux. They have dancing, drinking, and a couple of gambling machines. You could stand to let loose a little." His sister, Tulia, had been his main source of.... Annoyance, in leaving their apartment. He would have rather just stayed home finding some random hobby to do. Not go out into even more crowds with even more people. The bartender, a younger-looking Asari laughed at him, leaning against the bar top to talk to him. "You doing ok there sugar?" Markith just closed his eyes, the words felt like daggers of embarrassment. He must look pitiful to be reaping such attention. And this is why I prefer just being alone. The couple of shots he had taken were already hitting him, he wasn't used to drinking much anymore. His mandibles tightened against his face as he felt an arm wrap around his shoulder. He quickly looked behind him and was faced with another turian, smirking at the bartender. "Oh I'm sure my friend here is just fine. Don't you know when to leave a man alone with his thoughts now?" Markiths body stiffened at the unexpected touch, he was still too sober for this. He studied the turian who was now standing next to him, he had light grey plating and a brown tattoo running down his face and mandible. But what caught his eye most was the patches of lighter coloring covering his face and even his hands. The bartender just rolled her eyes, handing them two drinks before leaving to tend to more customers. Brown eyes met his and Markiths mandibles fluttered as he read the stranger's expression. "Oh excuse my manners, I'm afraid I've already had my share of drink today." A pale hand was offered to him. "Names Florol, nice to meet you handsome."

[that-wildwolf]

Snippet Sunday. Is it Tuesday? Maybe. Fuck it. @whiskynorocks you're right Sunday is a social construct

Fuck it. Garrus goes to therapy.

Fuck it. Long snippet.

Marta Domańska was a psychiatrist and a psychotherapist specialising in trauma. And as a psychotherapist specialising in trauma in the year 2188, Marta Domańska had her hands full.

She was not entirely sure what her first impression of Garrus Vakarian had been other than a vague thought that she might have heard the name somewhere before, in passing, and a slight surprise after reading his file.

Like most turian refugees on Earth, Vakarian had been an active combatant in the Reaper War. Unlike most turian refugees on Earth, he had not taken as much as a single therapy session in the last year since the war had ended. And, looking at the man, Marta had a feeling he actually hadn't set foot in a therapist's office in his life. Unusual for a turian, even more unusual for a turian soldier who'd fought in the Reaper War. 

His records put him in a human regiment, under a human commander. It was unusual, but Marta decided not to bring it up with him unless it became relevant. Mixed-species military units were not unheard of, especially towards the end of the war, when everything had become just a bit too messy to bother with proper protocol.

In his personal questionnaire, he wrote "28" under age, which he then crossed out and corrected to 30. Under pronouns, he put he/him, under sexual orientation, "demisexual" with a question mark, and left "gender identity" empty. Under emergency contact, he put down nothing. After convincing him that filling out that question was not optional, he put down the contact information for a quarian admiral Marta had seen on the news. She doubted he actually knew her.

"So, Lieutenant." Going by her experience, turians felt more comfortable when addressed by their military rank than their last name, and definitely than their first name.

"Advisor," he corrected, though his heart wasn't really in it. An automated response, something he'd learned to say rather than chose to.

"That's not a rank."

"I don't care." He looked out the window. "You can just call me Garrus, anyway."

Unusual, but Marta adjusted her approach. She was a professional, after all.

"Alright then, Garrus. If I recall correctly..." She made a show of looking into her datapad, pretending to check, although she had already memorised all the important information about the new patient. She always did. "You were offered government paid therapy right after the war, but you never checked in for a single appointment." She looked up. "Why is that?"

"Something came up." There was no noticeable change in his demeanour, but he did grip the armrests a bit tighter.

Marta put away the datapad. "And what made you decide to start now?"

"...Something came up."

He looked away, leaving her with little to go off of other than that purposefully vague statement. Marta pursed her lips. She was no stranger to new patients clamming up, but it was unusual from someone who'd made the appointment with no referral, even more so a turian. Regardless of whether another was to come, she had a feeling this was going to be a challenging session.

"What came up, exactly?" She decided to try a direct approach for now. It usually worked with turians.

Garrus tilted his head at her.

"Sometime soon, maybe in the next few weeks, I'm going to want to kill myself. I need you to stop that from happening." He wasn't joking. He wasn't uncomfortable saying those words aloud. He didn't seem like he was feeling all that much at all.

Of all the possible answers that rushed through Marta's head, none seemed appropriate. This wasn't the first time she'd heard something like that from a new client, but it was usually said in a far more emotional manner. People broke down when they had to verbalise their pain. Garrus Vakarian didn't. He said it like it was a fact he'd memorised from a book, like it was something that needed his attention but didn't warrant emotion. I'm going to want to kill myself soon, this is what the issue is, now let's fix that. Simple and to the point.

So no, even if only because of the factual and dry way he'd presented her with the confession, Marta Domańska did not know how to answer. I can't actually help you, you know. You need to do the work yourself. seemed like the best choice, especially with how easily he demanded an immediate fix. Therapy wasn't an immediate fix. He had no idea what he was doing. He just did it because someone had told him to do it or maybe because he'd seen someone else do it. But it wasn't an informed decision he'd made knowing what he was signing up for. He'd found an issue and sought a solution like he would if his computer malfunctioned.

"That's responsible of you," she said eventually. 

[silverselfshippingchaos]

behold! my masterpiece!

(explanations for who everyone is under the cut)

Rowan (he/him): The son of my F.F13 S/I! About 19. His father was never in the equation, so he's very close with his mother. Has an enemies -> lovers arc with N.oel from 13-2

There's an AU in which he takes L.ightning's place in the third game as God's Savior. Why? Because his mom has been taken hostage by B.hunivelze.

Nalia (she/her): The daughter of my XB.1 S/I and D.unban! About 17. She's very kind and loves flowers. A bit of a cousin to N.ikol. Has a British accent.

There is an AU in which she gets transported to the third game (F.uture R.edeemed specifically) and meets my XB.3 S/I. Seeing someone who looks so much like her mother but isn't her + that woman being in a relationship with another guy isn't something she takes well.

Lillian and Thorn (she/her and he/him respectively): Lilly and Thorn are the twins! Both about 16, kids of XB.3 Ash and M.atthew. They're pranksters.

Kirrahe (she/her): Adopted daughter of M.ass E.ffect Ash and G.arrus. Raging lesbian. Human, almost 17, loves aliens a lot. She's a human biotic and often uses her powers for silly things ("Kira, why is the TV remote floating?")

Aster (he/him): Adopted son of M.ass E.ffect Ash and G.arrus. Turian, about 17. A little confused about human customs, but he's getting there. Skilled with machines and loves spaceships.

Violet (she/they): About 15, kid of Ash and A.qua! Aspiring Keyblade Wielder! Loves Z.ack F.air and absolutely has games on her phone.

H.i-F.i R.ush Kid: I haven't developed this kid much so I can't say much, but they love jokes and music a lot! A lot like their dad!

Daughterdota (she/her): Daughter of Ash and K.yohei. Likes skateboarding, basketball, and her dog. About 17.

Older S.hura Son (he/him): Older son of Ash and S.hura. Doesn't have a name yet because I haven't thought of anything. About 18. Is a huge flirt.

Younger Shura Son (he/him): Younger brother of the kid above, about 14. Also doesn't have a name yet. Sorta quiet, but one of the funniest people I know.

F.raldarius Daughter (she/her): Eldest children of Ash and F.elix. Heir to House F.raldarius. About 17 and a student at the Officer's Acadeny. Despite her light-hearted and jovial nature, she takes her responsibility and works herself to bone to be someone she feels is worthy of her future position.

Fraldarius Son (he/him): Younger brother of the kid above, about 15. Bit of a bookworm and aspiring mage. Generally very polite and well-mannered, but he's a lot more comfortable with a fireball in his hand than holding a conversation.

Demyx Kiddo (he/him): About 17, son of Ash and D.emyx. As the son of two musicians, he's a musician himself. A little shy, but has a heart of gold.

[generation1point5]

Sword and Shield

“Do you understand why I chose Providentius over any other Admiral?”

Koter blinked, and glanced over to the human who addressed him. He stared at a cold and dark gaze wreathed in the shadows of the dark safe house they lingered in for the time being. 

“Because you’re never one to back down from a challenge,” Koter supposed. Aeos shook his head.

“Nothing so petty. I have observed him and determined him to be the weakest among all the others of the Hierarchy, the most easily levied in times of crisis.”

Koter narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

Aeos stepped from the shadows, his hard and unyielding stare no lesser for having been revealed in the harsh lighting. Dark hair parted over a sharp brow, a neutral expression made severe for a narrow and piercing gaze, a killer’s intent. “The Hierarchy’s strength relies upon the discipline of its soldiers,” Aeos began. “They must be willing to follow orders of their commanders, or else the coordination of their numbers and firepower will shatter and fall to the cunning of their enemies. A leader of thousands will know that casualties and sacrifice are inevitable, and must instill this willingness to die in their subordinates, even as they themselves must be insulated from such risk. Should they refuse, the loss of leadership will quickly degrade the coordination of their fighting force, even if they retain sufficient numbers to continue fighting. But Providentius refuses this maxim, priding himself on never having lost a unit in combat. He is unwilling to face the realities of his duty in a true conflict, and instead risks his own life than that of his men. He cares surprisingly little for the fact that he would leave his entire fleet rudderless should he die in the attempt. His noble spirit is a liability, not a benefit.”

“In other words,” Koter supposed, “his mind is more valuable than his life, or the lives of everyone it leads.”

“In a manner of speaking,” Aeos agreed with a nod. “A commander worth their salt should know that good intentions are not a rule for winning wars.”

“You are wrong.”

An amused chuckle escaped Aeos. “Oh? And what about my assessment is wrong?”

Koter crossed his arms and regarded his handler with a narrow gaze. “You see the Hierarchy as a cohesive society pursuing its self-interest, sacrificing a limb to save the greater body; as if it were so different from the Alliance in that respect. But you are mistaken; the giving of oneself in our society is shared by both master and servant, by both head and foot. In this, Providentius is the most fearsome admiral of all. Everyone who serves him knows that they are not pawns to be thrown into the fire for some greater purpose they cannot truly believe in; he breaks the barrier between those who leader and follower, knowing the needs of those who fight for him as one who fights alongside them. Not a single turian among his ranks can serve him in a way Providentius himself will not do for them, and he has devoted the entirety of his being to the well-being of his people. They would give their lives for him not out of duty, but of their own free will. His greatest weakness is not his love for his men; it is his greatest strength. He is surrounded by men whose loyalty he has earned.”

Aeos turned to face Koter square in the eye. “Does that include you? Take yourself for an example; you are killed more easily than he is; yet for your sake, he would surrender himself, and become all the easier target for it. You become his greatest weakness.”

Koter did not shrink back, but crossed his arms over his chest. “Have I served under you for so long that I have become a fragile thing in your eyes? Or do you consider me a thing you must protect much the same way you think Providentius himself does?”

This time, Aeos was silent. Smiling a little, Koter continued.

“Our weaknesses are not so different, such that is common to all flesh and blood. They seem to be only to those who don’t understand what makes it our strength. You didn’t choose Providentius because he was an easy target; you chose him because he is more like yourself than you want to admit. But I think that is a strength, not a weakness.”

[bioware-bard]

WIP Wednesday

Title: The Cost of Betrayal Fandom: Mass Effect: Andromeda Characters: Lucas Ryder (Pathfinder), Kaelyn Ryder, Reyes Vidal Genre: angst

"Vidal," Lucas said on a growl and raised his pistol, aimed it at Reyes. Reyes entered, holding up his hands in a placating manner. "Ryder, listen to me." "Oh, you're done saying pretty words." Lucas practically snarled the words as his gun hand twitched. "You used those on Kaelyn and that's how you managed to steal her away. The last ones you'll utter will be the location where you're keeping my sister." He raised his weapon further, looked through the sight at Reyes' heart. "Now." "I didn't take her, Lucas." His finger trembled on the trigger. "Liar." Reyes remained standing with his hands in the air, the only thing indicating his stress being the tight lines around his mouth. "Ryder, please," he said softly, eyes never leaving Lucas' face, "I don't know what Sloane told you, but I did not kidnap your sister. I have no reason to." Lucas scoffed, "Right." He lowered his pistol slightly, but still kept it pointed at the exile. "You wouldn't want to try and get at the implant in her head for your own gain? Sounds like something you'd do." Reyes' eyes changed, expression turning contemplative, then angry. "That's what she told you? You would believe I could kill Kaelyn?" He lowered his arms and stepped forward. Took another one when no one shot at him. "Lucas, think. Sloane is manipulating you. I have no reason for wanting to piss you off. I wanted to work together, but you chose Sloane, who has always hated the Nexus. Think, man!" Vetra coughed, drawing everyone's attention. "It makes sense, Ryder." Lucas snapped his head around to glare at the turian, who added, "Lower your gun and we'll figure this out." "There's nothing to figure out! I don't even really fucking care why he took Kaelyn, but he took her!" Drack stepped forward, sheathing his gun as he grunted. "You're hurting, kid - in more ways than I can count. You're desperate and don't want to lose your sister, I get that. But you know Sloane's story doesn't make sense." "Lyn wouldn't go into the Badlands alone without telling us," Liam spoke up. "Not even for him," he said with a nod toward Reyes. "Not now." Lucas finally lowered his gun completely and shook his head. He raised his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his noise between two fingers. Clenching his eyes shut, he shook his head again. "No. Reyes lies. Sloane can't." "What?" Cora asked softly, everyone else staring at him with various incredulous expressions on their faces.

[drelldreams]

ME Detailed Character Template 💙

It’s long, so under the cut.

[I.] Basic Data

Full name:

Alias:

Age:

Gender:

Species:

Place of birth:

Date of birth:

Occupation:

Location:

Romantic orientation:

Sexual orientation:

[II.] Physical Appearance

Basics

Height:

Weight:

Build:

Skin color:

Eye color

Hair color: (If species with hair)

Crest color: (If species with crest)

Fringe structure (If turian)

Hair length:

Hair structure:

Facial features:

Tattoos

Scars

Piercings

Fashion

Armor:

Casual attire:

Formal attire:

Overall fashion style:

Color palette:

Make up:

Accessoires:

Signature scent:

Demeanor

Speech mannerism:

Voice description:

Default facial expression:

Body language:

Presence:

[III.] Combat & Physical Abilities

Biotic abilities:

Weapon abilities:

Physical abilities: (Hand to hand combat, melee weapons, extraordinary agility, being examples)

Tech abilities:

Special skills: (Infiltration, assassination, espionage, leadership, investigation..)

Fighting style:

Threat level:

[IV.] Personality

Positive traits:

Negative traits:

Most dominant traits:

Mental disabilities/impairments:

Fears:

Goals:

Likes:

Dislikes:

[V.] Relationships

Family:

Friends:

Lover(s):

Ex(es):

[celestialship]

for the kisses- 19 with garrus? :3

19 - on top of a scar/injury

Megan Shepard was getting sloppy. She had never quite been the same since coming back from the dead, but it was hard to accept that she had been this unprepared for battle, to have taken a slash from a blade, resulting in a gash that caught her at the collarbone and cascaded up to her shoulder. Back on the Normandy, while the medics attended to other casualties, Megan found herself in her own quarters dealing with the injury. She didn’t want to take resources away from other crew members who needed priority.

The bleeding had stopped, after a temporary bandaging on the battlefield between gunfire. Now, as Megan unwrapped the injury, she was able to give it a good look over in the mirror. Megan sucked the air through their teeth upon examining the gash. Probably wasn’t going to scar, but it was going to look ugly for quite a while.

A knock came from the bathroom doorway, which Megan had left open, and she startled at the sound, feeling a bit indecent in only a tank top and pants. “Yes?” she said quickly, a bit embarrassed, only to turn and see Garrus standing in the doorframe. Megan sighed in relief — she didn’t have to worry about her presentation as much in front of him.

“I heard you got hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?” The turian asked, almost seeming to be scolding his superior.

“Good to see you too, Garrus,” Megan scoffed.

“I shouldn’t have to hear from Joker that you got injured. Why didn’t you come get me?” Garrus fretted, and initially Megan was annoyed, but it didn’t take long for her to piece together that he was just worried. Garrus seemed to take on Megan’s well-being as being partially his responsibility; undoubtedly, he wished he had been on the battlefield with them this time, or at least been the one to receive them onto the ship to look them over.

“I just wanted to dress it properly as soon as possible. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you first.” Megan accepted his worry, apologized for causing him stress, and returned to examining the gash in the mirror.

The turian walked closer, standing behind her as she looked herself over in the reflection. There was silence for a few moments, only broken by Garrus’s rumbling voice. “Beautiful.”

A hardened naval commander shouldn’t have the ability to blush. But Megan Shepard’s face began to grow red. “The gash in my collarbone says otherwise,” they said in a dismissive manner.

“No it doesn’t.” With a gentle pull, Garrus placed his talons on Megan’s uninjured shoulder to turn them around. He looked down at them with a soft gaze, smiling as he met Megan’s eyes, then glanced down at the injury itself. Leaning down, he gently placed his lips upon the gash, lingering as if willing the spot to heal. Megan found herself breathless at the gentle kiss.

Pulling away, he tilted his head at her, admiration written across his face. Then it gave way to an ornery smile. “You know, some men find battle scars attractive.”

[anderwhohn]

@dutyworn asked: our muses are in an arranged marriage / betrothal / nihlus, first contact war era?

There were certainly downsides to being not only one of the most highly respected and decorated Spectres in the Council's employ, but also the cousin of one of those very Councillors, when it was him that the Hierarchy and Council had agreed upon to represent the Turian Empire in this arrangement for peace with the newly discovered human race.

Nihlus knew too that part of the reason he was selected was due to his own vocal protests about the whole Relay 314 Incident, that the humans were calling the 'First Contact War'. While it certainly hadn't been a full scale war by turian standards, at least not yet, there had been enough questionable choices from the top on both sides that had eventually led to the Council's intervention and forced peace talks.

Now if only those 'talks' hadn't somehow led to the arrangement he was currently facing...

A human bondmate... Not that he had anything against humans himself - if anything, he found them fascinating and full of potential, a potential that could benefit the galaxy on a whole in the future - but the lack of choice in the matter...

He wonders if the human had volunteered herself, or she had been volunteered in a similar manner that he was. It was certainly frustrating, though looking over the dossier he'd been provided of her, she had some of the greatest potential he'd seen from her species so far.

Perhaps, once things settle a bit, he'll get back at Sparatus for this by putting her name forward as a Spectre candidate. It would certainly make his own job easier if she were a Spectre herself, rather than having to keep everything classified hidden from her. He doubts that would make their situation any easier if he was always having to hide things.

Walking through the Citadel Tower, he pauses when he spots a small cluster a humans in the atrium, most of them in business suits or military dress blues, while one human female stood out in civilian clothing. Curious, he wanders closer, enough to overhear one of the older males refer to her as 'Shepard' - his bondmate-to-be, it seems...

"Excuse me," he interrupts, stepping closer with what he hopes they understand as a friendly smile flaring his mandibles just a bit. "I couldn't help but overhear - you're Commander Wren Shepard? Nihlus Kyrik, Spectre. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

[messydiabolical]

Rituals

So this fic has been in my WIPS since last May, but finishing it as originally intended eluded me (the second part of this was going to be a lot longer). I like what I had so far though, so I thought heck with it, why not post here? A Thane lives! fic for warm feels. Thane Krios x Garrus Vakarian (vakarios),  Kolyat Krios, OC Hanar, OC Salarian, OC drell god. Thane lives AU. Keprals treatment. Drell Gods and worship. Words: 2163

Thane has been recieving kepral’s treatment and now it’s results day. Unsure of how to feel about it, he has Garrus and Kolyat with him to recieve this life changing news. Afterwards, Thane realises he has not been embracing life fully, and it’s time to start living. (suggestive, but no smut) Fic under the cut:

Mozandyr-Shev Sciences Inc. had not been designed with patient comfort in mind, being as it were more of a research facility than a typical medical centre. Facilities for examinations and treatments were present, but features such as calmly decorated waiting rooms or private suites were foreign concepts in the large open plan space. At least the lack of Gods awful muzak was a plus. 

Everywhere the eye was drawn was a feast of the sci-fi fantastic; lab benches scattered with all manner of gruesome gizmos and gadgets, flasks bubbling with questionable substances, holo-screens running simulations that looked straight out of a horror game. 

Looks can be deceiving of course, and while this was hardly a location one might want to wile away a pleasant afternoon, the laboratory had come to be a place Thane knew he would eventually treasure in his memories. Probably. Hopefully. Today will tell.

He rolls his head side to side, trying to ease the tension building up inside him as the minutes slowly trickle by. The movement nudges Kolyat and Garrus, wedged as they are so tightly either side of him on the far too small sofa. The loveseat looked suspiciously like the ones down in the main lobby of the commercial building, Thane suspecting it had been dragged up there by one of the doctors after a previous, ahem, incident.

Great crashing sound, cracking glass. Panicked exclamation in a flanged voice, “Shit shit shit! Sorry!” Doctor Mozandyr extends one long tentacle, pulls aside the plastic sheeting, revealing the lab to our view. Garrus on the floor, scooping up parts of a broken data pad. Swivel chair upturned beside him. “I’ll pay for that!”

Office chairs designed for salarians turned out to be ill equipped for restless, twitchy turians.

When Thane had next attended the laboratory, the love seat had appeared.

For today’s appointment both his lover and his son had insisted on accompanying him, leading to the three of them awkwardly crammed together now. At first Garrus had opted to stand, but his pacing earned him increasing glares from the impatient Dr.Shev. The salarian was hovering over a nearby bench, armed with tweezers and a petri dish that Thane could have sworn squawked every now and then. After Garrus’ pacing had him brush against a table, the contents wobbling precariously, Shev had turned to the turian and brandished the tweezers in a way that could only be described as menacing. He spoke in a clipped tone, eyes narrowed, clicking the tweezers furiously to emphasise each word. “Please make use of waiting facilities, Mr Vakarian.” Garrus had sheepishly withdrawn to the sofa, Kolyat and Thane hastily shuffling to make room for his large frame, Kolyat barely suppressing a snort. 

Now the three of them sat in growing silent tension. Garrus’ pointy hip spurs were digging into Thane’s left side, whilst the leathers of his and Kolyat’s coats made loud squeaking, scraping noises every time anyone so much as inhaled too hard. It might not have been physically the most comfortable of positions but Thane was comforted nonetheless, surrounded by loved ones, and grateful beyond comprehension for their presence. Even his eidetic memory couldn’t help him explain exactly how he’d come to be so incredibly blessed; what precise actions this past year had granted him such love and mercy at what should have been the bitter end of a lonely death. There weren’t enough words or prayers to express his thanks. His debts to the gods and the people around him would be lifelong in repayment, and he would pay them gladly, however long that would be. 

Today will tell.

At the far end of the laboratory the familiar click and whoosh of a pneumatic door sounds, Doctor Mozandyr emerging from that one’s office. With a last brief prayer calling for the strength to accept whatever is to come, Thane stands and takes a few steps forward. He feels his companions rise behind him, guardian shadows at his back, and is struck with familiarity; their formation so much like Shepard’s preferred teams of three when entering battle. Their ‘squad’, as they liked to call them. Thane supposes that fighting against Kepral’s has been a battle in its own right, and he couldn’t have asked for a better squad to have at his back.

Mozandyr detours towards Dr.Shev, briefly leaning down to share some hushed words, and Thane takes the moment to glance behind him.

Kolyat is standing tall, trying to appear stoic, but his sub-vocal song rumbles a jumbled mix of worry and projected comfort. He’s scared, but being so very brave. Garrus has moved in close beside him, and though he may not comprehend what the sub-vocals are saying, he can hear the notes emanating from the young man. He lifts a hand and places it on kolyat’s shoulder, squeezing there and holding. A tone of gratitude layers into Kolyat’s song, and a sound that indicates a familial fondness. Thane’s heart warms, and with a soft smile at them both he turns towards the approaching hanar, braced for what is to come with the knowledge that he is backed with their support.

The hanar doctor finishes conversing with Shev, the two coming to stand before Thane. 

“Sere Krios, this one apologises profusely for the delay. Doctor Solus wanted to review the results themselves. The live connection to Sur'kesh was proving, ah…” 

They pause, searching for a polite way to word their frustrations, though Thane notes with wry amusement that one’s bioluminescence is subtly flashing something that loosely translates to ‘piece of shit networks.’  Being away from other hanar for so long, this one was much less formal than you’d usually expect from its species. Or they had forgotten Thane could read them.

“...Difficult. The Professor has now finished the review and concurs with this one’s and Dr.Shev’s conclusions. Doctor Solus regrets that he cannot speak with you in person and sends regards. Ms.Lawson is regretfully out of contact range at this time.”

Dr.Shev clears his throat, continuing from his colleague.

“Would you like to come through to the offices for private consultation, or shall we speak here?” He glances at Kolyat and Garrus.

Thane pauses for a moment to consider. If today’s results aren’t good, would it be better to learn this in private, break it to Garrus and Kolyat quietly after a break for composure? His ears tune in to Kolyat’s song, still softly rumbling from behind, the support and courage offering him strength.

“Ah, my thanks, but we’ll take the news here, together.”

Doctor Shev bows his head in acknowledgement and proceeds, acknowledging the group as a whole.

“Very well. We tested 18 biopsy samples in total. Six from each lung, six more from organs most affected by kepral’s damage. All subjected to a barrage of stress tests to simulate effects of long term moisture exposure. One sample rendered inconclusive due to machine fault, will require further liver biopsy for full robust analysis, but conclusions still consistent enough to give results today.”

Thane dipped his chin in acknowledgement. He’d been forewarned there was always the possibility of errors. Only needing a single repeat seemed to be a positive thing.

“17 remaining biopsy samples completed testing correctly. Results conclusive. No signs of Kepral’s damage present. Treatments appear to have been successful.”

Time seems to stand still for a moment, the words frozen in the air as a litany of memories washes through Thane’s mind. He realises in that instant that even now, even after the past year or so of life changing growth and awakening, he hadn’t really believed he could escape his fate. Hadn’t believed he deserved it. That while he may have scraped enough extra time within this life to try to make amends, Kalahira’s shores were just one step ahead. 

It’s overwhelming, too many thoughts and feelings ready to drown him. To choke his lungs even if Kepral’s no longer will. 

A hand on each shoulder brings him back to the present. Teal scales and sable hide grip him, grounding him, and he lets out a long, slow breath, unaware he’d been holding it until now.

Through eyes that are rapidly misting over he looks up at the two doctors.

“I-�� his voice hitches, and he clears his throat, so thick with emotion he can feel it like a physical weight. “I don’t know how to adequately convey my gratitude.” The moisture in his eyes reaches critical mass, spilling down his cheeks, tickling across his frills in heavy wet rivulets.

“Thank you.”

***

Two handmade clay cups of water sit on a wooden tray, words of a Rakhanan dialect remembered by so few ornately carved into its edges. With a low bow from his kneeling position, Thane reaches for the left cup, bringing it to his lips and speaking over the brim.

“Life is precarious. Should you will it, it is a gift easily rescinded.” He takes a sip, the brackish water an assault to his senses. his body calls to reject it, spit it out. Pushing past the call, he swallows against the ocean salt without fuss or grimace. He gently places it back onto the tray, and brings the second to his now parched mouth.

“Kalahira, you have granted this one the gift of life.” He sips once more. Fresh, cool water, potable and invigorating, washes across his tongue. It tastes like life.

“Kalahira, by your bidding, today I will not go to the sea. Kalahira, forgive this one for any despair. I treasure your gift. Kalahira, be praised.” He drains the cup, every precious drop an affirmation. His mixed emotions on receiving his results have left Thane in a self reflective mood. The remainder of the appointment at the lab lives like a strange kind of liminal dreamspace in his mind; he can of course recall every second in crystal clear detail, yet when he focuses on the emotions of it the picture becomes a cacophony, contradicting feelings muddying the memory. It is somewhat unsettling, and he knows that this day will take much deep meditation to be truly settled. For now, one thing is absolutely clear. He is alive, and he needs to start living to live, instead of preparing to die. 

He gives one last low bow, rafak kissing against the silky cloth he had laid across the floor to perform this private ceremony of thanks upon. With a final hum of his subvocals, he moves to stand and clear the makeshift altar away.

After the laboratory Garrus had to make a quick detour to C-Sec on his father’s behalf, but he would not be long. Soon he would join Thane at the apartment, and they only had the one night before he must return to Palaven early in the morning. Thane fully intended to make the most of their time together, and he had plans. There are other ceremonies that can be performed, life affirming and celebratory, that he can share with his lover.

He opens his closet, appraising the collection of leathers and armoured pieces, a wall of black filling most of the space. It takes a little digging to find the softer, less harsh pieces, and he removes every one he has, splaying them out across the bed as he strips naked, gently caressing his scales with smooth fingertips and teasing with claws as he reveals his form.

Touch. Feel. Embrace your sensuality.

The ritual of lovers has no solid rules, no key stages that must be reached. The God Vadaeus, monarch of lovers, intimacy, and pleasure, also revelled in spontaneity and the chaos of life. By their very nature, prayers and tributes to them were free formed, based on general ideas and not rules. Tuning into one's senses was perhaps the only true guiding principle.

Explore. Indulge. Embrace every texture, every temperature, awaken nerves. Feel.

Thane runs his hands over the clothes, closing his eyes as he lets other senses lead. Linens that release the scent of fields on a spring day, cottons so soft against his scales it feels like a caress, silk that runs across his palm like cool water. He finds himself drawn to that silk, the texture alluring, the symbolism of life affirming waters still fresh in his mind. Opening his eyes a warm smile and gentle flush runs across his frills.The shirt is of a deep royal blue. It will compliment his turians colourings beautifully. 

Placing the discarded shirts back in his closet, Thane selects a pair of indulgently soft ruched leggings to complete the outfit. They cling to his form in a way he knows Garrus enjoys immensely, while being much easier to remove than his standard leathers. Or easily torn open, if Garrus’ mood wills it. 

As he appraises the outfit, seduction at the forefront of his mind, an idea comes to Thane. A certain, hmm, accessory, that would really complete the outfit. He grins in eager anticipation, reaching for his bedside cabinet.

[dotarari]

🖊

HELL YEAH, I'm going to talk about my sweet, tired™ Turian boy

This here is Seneca Malraka.

He was made into a Spectre after one of his missions went horribly wrong and resulted him making choices that cost the life of his men. Seneca personally believes he shouldn't have been chosen to become a Spectre but he will try his damndest to do the things he believes is right and will fight for that, even if it means doing something that puts others at risk just to make the mission a success. Seneca is seen as a very talented Turian solider and has shown great leadership skills for someone his age. He usually takes on undercover missions due to not being well known amongst the people, which works in his favor a lot, as he use to be a forensics investigator/detective. Seneca likes to see how far he can go before he catches whoever the hell he's dealing with.

With that out of the way, Seneca may come off as a 'badass' to those who don't know him personally. In reality, he's a huge fucking dork and is really just tired all the time. He has a resting bitch face and each species, including his own race, oftentimes confuse him for being absolutely pissed and mistake his dry sense of humor (usually dark humor) as him being rude. Seneca is well mannered and has etiquette to the point one would think he's of a higher class or a politician. There have been countless times some women have flirted with him for being 'handsome' and admiring how much respect he shows, regardless of gender. But his response to being flirted with sadly is "I should go." Panics at the first sign of someone showing interest in him as he really doesn't feel worthy of any affections.

Seneca also knowns my other Turian oc, Aletheia Lupicus. I would and should go on about their relationship, but that's deep lore and won't go into it until later~

But if you want to know more about him or other ocs, just ask!