#turianweek

[kestrelsansjesses]

Spectre

They came for him when it was all done, the Reapers defeated and the galaxy struggling to rebuild itself without Mass Relays to guide the way. Spectre Garrus Vakarian- how did that sound? It sounded… Shit. How did it sound? Fantastic. More than he had ever dreamed of. Full of bullshit paperwork. A chance to make things right again. Not what he had asked for.

It boiled down to this: becoming a Spectre meant leaving her. She could wake up any day now, the doctors said. They thought hearing a familiar voice would help. Doubts about giving up the opportunity plagued his mind, but he sat next to her, holding her hand in his own, careful to avoid the IV needles, trying not to look at it.

“They want to make me a Spectre, Shepard. Me. Can you believe that?” In a reply to the silence, he said, “I didn’t think so.”

A few machines beeped, filling the air. It was never completely quiet here, and there was always a doctor or a nurse waiting just beyond the door, barely giving them privacy. “I said no. Had to stay here with you. Still. Spectre Vakarian. Has a nice ring to it.” His parents would have been so proud; he hadn’t been back to Palaven since the war ended.

“I should go.” The phrase was enough to send a ghost of a smile across his face. He had heard her say the same so many times before.

He stood, stooped, and went to let her hand rest back on the pristine white sheets when her fingers tightened around his, not a true grip but something more than their former looseness. It had happened before- reflexive action, the doctors said- but his heart still thudded in his throat.

Then Shepard spoke, and Garrus’ world inverted itself. “The Spectres…” Every word was labored, but her eyes were almost open, and he leaned closer to hear what she was saying.

“They’ll take anyone these days.” And for the first time since he thought he had lost her, Garrus laughed, long and hard, until tears streamed from his eyes.

[bethadastra-art]

Panel from the in-progress comic I’m making this weekend!

Day 4: Domestic Life

TURIAN BABIES need I say more

[ballofbitter]

“Thank you, for coming back to me.”

not getting to hug/and or kiss vetra at the end bothered me so i fixed it 

[justkeepcalibrating]

Getting to Know You

Totally written at the last minute for #turianweek because I will find any excuse to write Garrus related stuff and I need an excuse to fill in some Shakarian time. Day one was introductions. This may not be their official introduction, but it's when they first started to get to know each other so I think it counts.

“Garrus,” Melody Shepard called out as she peeked her head around the corner of the elevator.  Noticing the pair of turian feet under the Mako, she became curious enough to investigate.  She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about this turian she had just met already feeling around in the underbelly of their primary mode of transportation, but it seemed as if it were already too late.  With no one around to watch this alien aboard the Normandy, parts of the Mako lay strewn along the ground around him.  She shrugged.  It wasn’t like he was going anywhere anytime soon.

She bent over, strands of hair covering her eyes, a smirk sliding across her face.  “Garrus?  If you’re looking for the kitchen, you’re not going to find it down there.”

After a moment of silence, he pulled himself out and dusted himself off.  "I was just um…calibrating your vehicle.  I was only going to take a look, but I noticed something and I…”  He paused, pushing himself to his feet, his eyes scanning her reaction, obviously realizing that he had made assumptions too soon.  “I…realize now that I probably should have gotten your permission before…”  His eyes fell back down to the mess he created around the Mako.  “I’m sorry.”

Melody put her hands behind her back, her smile only growing in her failing attempt to play nice with the new guy.  She had only interacted directly with aliens a handful of times, but she knew nothing about them.  Commanding them was a chance for her to get to learn.  If only she could shake this impending awkwardness that he could no doubt pick up on.  “Nono, it’s fine.  You’re part of the team now, so feel free to do what you gotta do.”  

“Oh…well, I appreciate that.  Just let me know if you don’t like any of the changes that I add and I can have them removed right away.”  Garrus said casually, obviously just as lost for words as she was.  

“Sure…”   The awkwardness only seemed more and more evident to both of them as the silence between them only grew with each moment.  The two of them stood there for what felt like an eternity.  Her reason for being here completely disappearing in her mind after the presumptuous action had taken her off guard.

Garrus was the one that finally broke the silence.  “Was there…something that you needed me for Commander?”

She smacked herself on the top of her head.  “Oh, right!  I heard from some of the C-SEC guys that you were a pretty good shot.  I was coming down here to see if you wanted to see if you were up for a bit of a challenge.”  Her grin spread as she folded her arms in front of her chest.  “I’ve been told I’m one of the best snipers in the Milky Way.”

Garrus scoffed at the comment, his eyes giving her a quick once over.  “You?  You’re a little small to be holding up something that large.  Pistol, I’m sure, but a rifle?  I don’t think so.”  He tilted his head to the side as he watched her.

“Well then, why don’t you put your money where your mouth is, Vakarian?  Let’s get a couple rounds in at the shooting range and the winner buys lunch.”  She playfully smacked his armor, confidence oozing out of her very core.  Garrus didn’t look impressed.  “It could…also, give us a chance to get to know each other.  I’ve never really spent a lot of time around a turian.  This could be fun.”

“A free lunch, eh?  I suppose I can make some time.”  

“Well Shepard, same question.”  Garrus grinned, his head looking over in her direction after hitting another target.  Their little game had become more entertaining than Melody had expected.  With each hit, the shooter got to ask the other a personal question.  The officers weren’t wrong.  Garrus was a good shot, but who was better?

“I have three brothers and a sister,”  Shepard responded as she set up her next shot.  “I have one brother that’s older than me, and everyone else is younger.”

“That’s a pretty big family.”  Garrus laughed, watching her intently.  “How do you keep up with them all?”

“No way.  You get one question per shot, Vakarian.  Those were the rules.”  Melody closed her left eye, the other looking through the scope as she lined up her shot.  She took a deep breath and let the bullet fly continuing her perfect score.  Upon realizing at how good a shot both of them were, the game quickly became who would miss first. 

The turian laughed as he inspected the target.  “A human that can shoot, I’m almost impressed.”

“Well, don’t get too cocky.  I’m just getting warmed up.”  She sat back on her bum and crossed her legs, thinking hard about her next question.  “Okay okay, I got one.  Are you closer to your mom or dad?”

“I was closest with my mother.  I haven’t really kept in contact with my father and I’d like for it to stay that way.”

“How come?”

Garrus shot a look over at her, a smirk on his face as he lined up his next shot.  “Now look who’s trying to break the rules.”

Shepard placed another bullet in the chamber as she looked down the target practice hall.  “I was only curious,” she mumbled.

Another shot rang out from the hall followed by the noise the target made as it flipped backward.  “My father is just a rules man.  I’ve tried to make him happy, but every step forward only seems to get me two steps back.  I’ve gotten to the point where I’ve stopped trying.”  

The hall fell silent.  Obviously, that question was a lot heavier than she had meant for this session to go, but it only brought out more questions.  “And your mother?  What does she say?  Maybe she can say something to him.”

“She’s gone,”  Garrus said matter-of-factly.  He quickly cleared his throat as he stood.  “You got three answers.  You owe me,” he chuckled followed by silence.  “You must be really close with your family.”

Melody’s mouth fell open as she kept her eyes trained on him.  “I suppose.  I’m also more close with my mother.  I followed in her footsteps when I joined the Alliance.  With everything that has happened, I’ve gotten distracted.  I haven’t talked to her in a while.”

His eyes fell, but a smile formed as his fixed his eyes straight ahead.  “You should.”

“I’m sorr-”  Garrus held up a hand stopping her, placing the butt of his sniper on the ground as he looked over to her.

“Don’t be.  It’s been a while.”  The two were silent for a few moments as Garrus came up with his next question.  Melody sat there flabbergasted.  She had no idea what to say to him.  She couldn’t even imagine what her life would be like if her mother was gone.  The thought alone… “Did you always want to join the Alliance?”  Garrus finally continued, obviously used to the silence that followed that fact.

Melody smiled as she remembered her childhood.  The memories flooded back to her as she lined up her next shot.  Another shot rang out.  “My mother and father did want me to go into the Alliance.  They would dress me up in the uniforms when I was small and did everything they could to make me interested in joining.  They were probably a lot more strict on me because their attempts didn’t work on my brother.”  She leaned her head back, thinking back to answer his question.  

Garrus lined up his next shot, awaiting his answer.

She thought for another moment before her face lit up.  “Once I learned about the different types of aliens, there was a time that I wanted to grow up and be an Elcor.  I liked the way they talked,” Melody said.  Her life long dream obviously dashed as she grew up.

Garrus laughed, a sudden shot quickly followed, but this time no target was hit.  Both of their eyes went wide as the realization slowly hit them.

“I won!”  Shepard jumped up.  “Ha!  In your face!”

“Pbbt, my finger slipped.  You can’t expect me to keep a straight shot after a reveal like that.”  Garrus placed his rifle on his back, his arms crossing as he turned to her.

“The only thing I wanna hear out of you is ‘You are the best sniper in all the galaxy’.”  She made her way over to the turian, a smug grin crossing her features.

Garrus walked by her, not even making eye contact.  “I’m not saying that.  The deal was lunch, not admitting defeat.”

Melody ran up beside him and looked up at him.  “But you are admitting it.”

“We are going to have a rematch and that’s final.”

“Name the time and place.  I’ll take you on anywhere!”

If you like what you’ve read, feel free to read my other Shakarian fics here!

[sparatus]

slides in at the last possible minute for turian week

garrus and the unnamed turian ambassador from the citadel dlc that he hooks up with if unromanced..... garrus will always be my favorite romance but at the same time i always think these two are really cute together and i want them to be happy

special thanks to @99bottlesofhorosk for help with the clothing palettes and the idea for the background and halos xoxo

[anymash]

Turian week Day 4 - Domestic life

Children of all species from the galaxy love sweets and don`t know when is time to stop (^_^)

Buy Me a Coffee  ✦ Instagram

[theravenofwynter]

Palaven

With vast caves where the Turians first emerged; wide and deep, where they first learnt to hunt.

With the most magnificent auroras in Council space, white, blue, green, purple and droplets of red across the night sky.

Palaven, with harsh days and cool nights, with radiation and an even harsher climate; heavy, torrential rain is the norm, while at the highest mountains there’s a smidgen of snow.

Where the prevalence of water is underground, where in the dark underground tunnels Turians fell into natural wells never to be seen again.

With flora and fauna that evolved with radiation absorbing plates that open at night, the sweet citrus scent drawing animals and predators.

With a diverse and vast climate, with harsh winds and heavier rains, with the best view in the entire galaxy.

Palaven, where the climate beat discipline into its resident species, the thing everyone else knows them by.

Palaven, irredeemably changed by the Reapers, under attack from all sides, but the same people that once fell into its natural wells have learnt their planet better than anyone.

Palaven, changed, not lost, and unconquered.

[bethadastra]

Day 3: Turian Arts

Also titled: Important Themes in Turian Visual & Vocal Art (as written by an art history graduate with too much time on her hands)

*note: these are just little headcanons that I have jotted down over the months whenever something crosses my desk with my museum work. They are by no means absolute, and I intentionally leave a lot of room for interpretation, because if turian art is anything like human art, it is one big hot mess.

Themes I include are: practicality, nihilism, design, illustration/2D, and vocal traditions. (under the cut because there’s a LOT)

Practicality: Practicality goes hand in hand with general turian culture. I have noticed that there is a popular trend in headcanoning that turian art (and most especially architecture) must be practical in order to be beautiful, and I 100% agree with this. With this in mind, I don’t want to deny that impractical art would exist; in fact, I believe impractical art (such as art that is made solely to be ridiculous or useless beyond being looked at) would make an excellent example of time periods in which turian artists are experimenting with their audience’s reactions, and rebelling against institutionalized art.

Because we know that social harmony is an important component of turian culture, it would make sense that turian-designed spaces would encourage social harmony, in that they are clean, multi-functional, historically relevant, and can be used to encourage the Heirarchy’s tier system (think stairs and spaces where it is implied that certain tiers can enter & interact)

Also, practicality can cover the scale of the art. My best guess is that turian art can either be small enough to be portable (an appealing option for a commissioner who might be at war or have to move during war times), or so over-the-top grandiose that it suggests permanence or the scale of the commissioner’s wealth/power.

Also, because of the radiation that Palaven experiences, most of the art created would have to withstand the natural phenomena, or cease to exist. This means that there might be a need to work with materials that are impervious to solar radiation, or work with processes that emphasize this natural relationship (such as the development, if any, of a photography genre that utilizes radation and light in the photo-making process).

Nihilism: While this isn’t the only theme taken on by turians, I believe that nihilism becomes a strong creative theme; especially once turians reach their “space age.” Nihilsim stems from turian war culture, and can serve as a counterpoint to the Heirarchy and its establishment of rules and absolute morality. While art is often representative of unique ideas, historically, art also has strong roots in forming arguments or responding to real life. I find it hard to believe that each and every turian ever went into their years of service, served the Heirarchy, and followed the rules. (with Vetra Nyx’s backstory, we get a small glimpse into what this might have looked like). One of the best genres to look at nihilism represented in art would be abstract expressionism, in which many creatives who had become disenfranchised with traditional arts after WWII looked to reflect on their inner (often negative) emotions, rather than the external narratives that had been so popular before. Artists such as Franz Kline, who separated their work from specific stories & investigated the balance between simplicity and complexity in abstract painting, might give us an understanding of turian art, where it might be common to see a turian who spent much of their life fighting and killing turn to the arts to sort out their emotions and personal trauma.

When we consider how often turians have been at war, we could make a guess that their art world experienced dramatic changes at relatively similar time periods as when they went to war (both with themselves, as shown with the Unification Wars and the sudden popularity of colony markings, as well as going to war with other species). I strongly believe that when turians went to war, as well as made contact with new species, new subgenres of nihilistic art emerged that borrowed themes and techniques from cultures who they were either at war with, or were meeting for the fist time.

Design: From a culture that puts high value on function & collectivism, it would make sense that spaces meant to house this species would be given great thought and consideration in their design.

Furniture and appliances would be designed to have flexibility when dealing with all sizes of turians (think of objects that can “grow” with their owners, like shoes or a chair). Clothing would have to accommodate the spikes and spurs that naturally occur with the species, and outpost colonies would probably stick to more “military” style clothes as to maintain high functionality in times of war.

I won’t even go into military design, like war ships and weapons, because that’s a whole post of its own. But the need for practicality, simplicity, and effectiveness would be necessary if we’re to believe that weapons of turian design are the best in the galaxy.

Illustration & 2D Art: Illustration, most especially blueprints, is considered high art, because it is representative of something practical being made real. It wouldn’t be uncommon to see turian sketchbooks filled with blueprints and plans for houses, weapons, and the like. Narrative illustration (like an illustration for a children’s book) would also exist, but I believe it would not be considered as prestigious of an artistic undertaking, because it is more of an off-topic thought, and represents something abstract and temporary.

Painting as we know it would not have a strong history on Palaven, mainly because the preservation of paint pigments would be too difficult of a task when considering radiation and Palaven’s weather cycles. Similar issues would happen with photography, or any other media that relies on organic material that would be affected by Palaven’s environment. So while it could exist, it is likely that painting would be a younger form of art than sculpture or metalsmithing.

Voice: Because turians have unique voices, it would be safe to argue that turians find meaning not only in the words that they speak, but also the tone/inflection/use of subvocals. Our closest human equivalent is the accenting of specific words when we speak, so that the phrase “I never said she stole my money” with a different emphasis creates different meaning. Turians are capable of doing this with any phrase, but have enough finesse that they can say the phrase “I never said she stole my money,” but imply something completely different, like “I went for a walk today and ate a sandwich.” With this in mind, we could assume that anything involving turian voice would have an artistic history, most especially singing and speaking.

 Song: I make it no secret that I love listening to bird songs and imagining if turian’s ancestors had something similar. I don’t think it would be a stretch of the imagination to think that turian pop music from any given time period includes vocals that might have lyrics that classify it as a song of rebellion or what-have-you, but when listened to with the intended subvocals, change the meaning to being a song about love, or something wholly unrelated to the lyrics. With this in mind, I think that there are many subgenres of turian music, in which there can be dozens of types of love songs, and covers of famous songs can take on wholly new meanings when sung by different turians.

Dramatic Histories: If Fleet and Flotilla is any indicator, it seems that quarians and turians love their drama. This makes sense, since they seem to share not only anatomical similarities, but also cultural (if a single musical romance is any indicator). This small (but emphasized) focus on characters who are shaped by their history can go hand-in-hand with my hypothesis on song vocalization, and point towards a trend in turian cinema where what is implied on screen is just as important as the script. In order to make this happen though, I imagine there would be a lot of dramatic silences, emotional monologues, and banter. So much banter. From a historical perspective, this might also indicate that turians and quarians have oral histories that date back many centuries.

[ravenpenandpaper]

In Whichever Universe

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Characters: Garrus Vakarian, Female Shepard (Mass Effect),  Additional Tags: Movie Star AU, Summary: Somehow they always end up meeting each other, and sometimes the Reapers have very little to do with it

A/N: Both for Turian Week and for @ev-t‘s birthday, seemed only fitting to put this up during the 14th :)

Scene 1, act 1:

Falling in love with a co-star really wasn't on her plans when she sighed up the contract for the Sci-fi franchise, love was messy, it was problematic, especially if it involved your co-star; it was a continuous effort, one Jane Shepard hadn't been willing to make, not until she met Garrus roughly five years ago. Falling in love with Garrus Vakarian, Turian heart-throb of the Milky Way, really wasn’t what she had planned; what either of them had planned.

Shepard sighed as she snuggled closer to her co-star, planting a kiss on his neck.

"Insatiable," Garrus muttered with a rumbling of his subvoclas, amused, even as he raised himself on his elbow to kiss her properly.

"For you? Always." She grinned into the kiss, fingers ghosting over his bare waist. Both of them naked on Jane’s trailer before the start of their day, enjoying each other's company, they still had a bit of time, hopefully.

"Jane..." he rumbled with a sigh, gripping her waist tighter, fingers-

"Shepard? Vakarian? Five minutes to make up and 30 to start!" Came their Salarian understudy's voice, followed by a knock on the door.

"Going!" They shouted back, Jane slumping back and away from him with a sigh, Garrus' hand coming to rest at the nape of her neck, a laugh escaping his throat.

"To work?" He grinned.

"It's almost over..." she agreed with a certain melancholy that had become her norm for the last few weeks of filming, as the end neared for the shooting so did her cheer and Garrus hated seeing her like that.

"I'll be here remember?" He gently bumped his forehead against hers, mandibles fluttering in a grin, a gentle reminder that the movie wasn't the last of the two of them, not by a long shot.

"You always are, some days it feels like you always were," she smiled as she looked up at him, quickly stealing a kiss before forcing herself back on her feet, "to work then!"

He grinned as he looked her up and down before donning Adviser Adrux Kryik's Heavy armour, the thing was nearly impossible to put on, regardless of what their Hierarchy contact said about 'keeping things real' and 'making an example out of the Turians.'

He glanced at his fiancee - the word still bringing a pleased knot on his gizzard accompanied by gentle disbelief - as she put on Commander Valkyrie Hawthorn's armour, the X7 in her chest - fictional as it was because humans didn't really care about 'keeping things real' - was the final touch in her transformation.

"Let's go kick some Reaper ass, Vakarian,” she said with a blinding smile; Garrus was struck once again by how lucky he was.

Scene 2, act 1:

"Need some company?" Adrux Kryik asked, walking into their room, Commander Hawthorn was looking at the datapads, looking for a last effort, a last something she could dig out of the ass-end of nowhere so they could have a chance at winning.

"I don't know how we're going to win this Adi," she whispered, confirming his fears, putting the data pad away and looking up to him.

"With you leading the Victory Fleet my love; focus on getting the weapon going, I'll clear a path for you, let me take care of the rest." He smiled, crossing the room slowly and sitting beside her, "you've got this, we've gone over the plan over twenty times Kyrie, you've got this, you were born for this."

"Adi, Adi promise me..." she gripped his vest forcing him to look at her. "Promise me we're gonna make it."

"I- I can't,” he paused, “Valkyrie..." he whispered as he looked away from her, head hanging in sudden shame, "I wish I could lie to you..."

"Adrux..." she whispered, taking hold of his hands, carefully removing his gloves, "Adrux, I want you to hold me, just for tonight, please! It might be the last time we-"

"Kyrie-" he breathed, a whine in the back of his throat, Spirits if he lost her-!

"Make me forget tomorrow's coming, make me forget everything but you." Valkyrie pleaded, entwining their fingers, them kissing his knuckles, her eyes pleading, "let me pretend we're gonna have forever, just the two of us."

"Yes," he whispered, caressing her cheek, "anything for you, my love."

"Adrux, Adrux I-ACHOO" Jane reeled back, staring at him unblinkingly before breaking down in giggles, leaning back and ignoring Garrus' disgusted face, "Spirits... your face! I'm sorry," she breathed between giggles falling back on the bed and turning to their director, "sorry can we take a break?"

The man, one Alec Freeman, looked at his wrist, the old watch still working perfectly, "okay, that's gonna be two and a half hours, you both still have that interview with the Empire to sort it out."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Jane sighed, "I've no idea why they have an investigative reporter covering a movie."

"You know why, Jane," Garrus muttered besides her removing the prosthetic from his face with a shudder, he hated that thing, "she's still in trouble over the Salarian's egg incubators and the scandal with the Hanar priest," he prodded his right mandible with a finger, flexing it to regain the proper movements.

"And since she did nothing wrong, there's no reason to fire her, but to put her out of the proverbial limelight for a while," she said, eyes far away before she focused on him, "stop probing your face, Garrus, your mandible’s already tender," she frowned at him, swiftly getting up and planting a kiss on the offending part, putting his hand away.

"Ma'am," an Asari understudy called her, handing a datapad, "the reporter is asking if we can move things earlier," she was a pretty little thing, probably not even 90 yet.

They glanced at each other briefly, before Garrus sighed and leaned down to kiss her temple, "I'll order something and then meet you there ok?"

"You're just leaving me to the wolves," she scrunched up her nose in mid distaste while he laughed.

"You are Commander Hawthorn," he mock saluted her before heading in the opposite direction, ignoring her muttered complaints.

Scene 2, act 1:

Jane smiled as Al-Jilani continued to talk about the movie, the needled sentences made her want to punch the woman, she wouldn't, of course, she wasn't a barbarian; Spirits knew she wanted to.

"-he battle with the Reapers is the highlight of the movie, uniting all species in a common enemy, bringing all the galaxy together, personally I think that's quite a feat." The reported said, lacing her fingers together.

Jane remained silent, just nodding in agreement, it was quite a feat, the council, in their 1500 years of existence, had never managed that.

"Do you think, theoretically speaking, that the humans could do that? Would a Human councillor be able to do that?" Al-Jilani asked, eyeing the actress sitting in front of her.

"I don't think humanity will get a seat for at least another hundred years," Jane laughed without humour, "we're the newcomers, the fact we have an embassy on the Citadel, when other species still don't, is a credit in and of itself," she laced her fingers together, staring at the reporter with curiosity instead of animosity, "I still don't think humanity as a whole has proven itself to the galaxy, the events in Mass Effect, are, as one would expect, extenuating circumstances."

"Do you think Humanity’s not ready for that responsibility then?”

“I think Humanity as a whole has a lot to offer the galaxy, but we still have not given anyone a reason to trust us,” she paused briefly gathering her thoughts as she drank from her cup of water, “after working with such a multilateral team I've come to realize that we need to cooperate more with other species, instead of working on the ‘Humans first, Humans only,’ the Terra Firma party would have you believe. They’re not the enemy here, mindless racism, mindless violence is our true enemy.”

“Is that instance influenced by your relationship with your co-star?” al-Jilani asked with a gleam in her eye.

"Definitely, have you ever found that one person you can be yourself with? No walls between you two, no acting? That person you want to be better for? Not because they make you, but because they inspire you? That's Garrus and I."

"Does Vakarian feel the same way? Can those barriers really be breached between people of two different species?" The reporter asked with a dubious frown, Jane didn't blame her, her history with former lovers had been well documented, but Garrus-

"Sure they can," Garrus answered, walking, no, swagging into their interview, a plastic bag with something that smelled heavenly - probably their lunch - in his hand. "If I didn't love her half as much as she just proclaimed to love me I wouldn't be bonding with her," he sat beside her, his face plates arching in the equivalent of a human eyebrow. “The feeling is entirely mutual by the by,” he grinned at al-Jilani, an amused flicker of his mandibles.

“Given that you two met on set, can we assume the chemistry between Commander Hawthorn and Advisor Kryik shares the same intensity?”

They looked at each other, a flicker of her eyes, a twitch of his lips before Shepard turned to the reporter shaking her head, “their chemistry is different, their whole dynamic is different, Hawthorn has the weight of the galaxy on her shoulder, the hopes and dreams of humanity, Kryik has the eye of the Hierarchy, the duty of carrying the Turians through the war, but he is her subordinate.”

“A relationship between captain and subordinate isn't really frowned upon in the Turian Military -” Garrus begun, easily stepping in before Khalisah could question them “- and we tried sending in that message, their relationship is entirely consensual, but there are some things Hawthorn has to do alone and Kryik can't follow, no matter how much he may want to.”

“Such as?” She asked, interested for once.

“Sorry Khalisah,” Jane interrupted, with an amused smile, “spoilers.”

Scene 2, act 2:

“You know,” Jane started as she speared one of her steak cubes with a fork, the meat just that side of rare with a tender red centre, just how she liked it, with a side of potato salad.

“Eat, we still have the cabin scene to finish,” he smiled, amused.

She snorted, swallowing a mouthful, “you just want to kiss me again.”

“I do like kissing you,” Garrus shrugged, unrepentant. “I prefer doing it in private, but kissing Hawthorn is just as good.”

“To think you didn’t get my advances until I kissed you,” she grinned before turning back to her food, ignoring the people passing them by, most of the crew knew to leave them alone between takes, especially since the news of their engagement spread through Council space. Sometimes Ashley or Jeffrey would join them, but it was rare, their fellow actors in their own convoluted romance to care about anyone else.

“I got your advances, make no mistake,” he smiled at her, idly putting a lock of hair behind her ear with a caress of his finger, seeing the goosebumps on her skin. He did love the reactions she had when he touched her.

“Honey you only realized I was interested when I insisted on practising the kissing scene in the second movie and may have groped you a bit during it,” she smiled, looking at him through her eyelashes, chasing the warmth of his hand with a hum.

“There was no ‘may,’ about it Jane; you definitely groped me.” He grinned, leaning back in the chair, watching as she sighed and went back to eating, she did love watching her.

“And you still didn't get the message,” she snorted in between bites of steak, foregoing the fork for a moment as she picked the cubes, savouring them, they still had thirty minutes of lunch.

“Finish your food, Jane,” he rumbled, amused.

“You’re just gonna stand there and watch?!” She laughed, cleaning her hands on a napkin, picking up at the salad, she knew she would need it, they would be filming most of the scenes between Kryik and Hawthorn.

“By the by, have you seen Nihlus?” She asked between bites; they had met Spectre Kryik at the very start of the franchise, during pre-production, the Spectre got a kick out of having his name on a movie, ’almost as awesome as Blasto!’ he had said at the time.

“He called you when you were finishing up the scenes with the goodbyes yesterday, said he wanted to be present at the wedding, still moaning you chose me over him though, also that I choose you over him,” he smiled at her, an embarrassed flick of his mandibles, he had somewhat forgotten about the call since Jane had gone home upset with the scene, it was finally hitting her Mass Effect would end, sooner for them rather than later. “He said he’d be by whenever we marked the wedding, just make sure he knows about it.”

“Was there gunfire at his end?”

“Surprisingly no, I think he was at the Citadel or maybe Illium, I hope he was at the Citadel anyway.”

“Remember last time we were on Illium? Jackie almost got sold to slavery if not for Nihlus,” she laughed remembering, more of a giggle than a full-out laugh.

“Come on, finish it up, we have that scene to finish,” he smiled at her again, the softness that settled over his heart whenever he saw her laughing something was something he hoped never to get used to.

Scene 2, act 1, take 2:

"Need some company?" Adrux Kryik asked, walking into their room, Commander Hawthorn was looking at the datapads, looking for a last effort, a last something she could dig out of the ass-end of nowhere so they could have a chance at winning.

"I don't know how we're going to win this Adi," she whispered, confirming his fears, putting the data pad away and looking up to him.

"With you leading the Victory Fleet my love; focus on getting the weapon going, I'll clear a path for you, let me take care of the rest." He smiled, crossing the room slowly and sitting beside her, "you've got this, we've gone over the plan over twenty times Kyrie, you've got this, you were born for this."

"Adi, Adi promise me..." she gripped his vest forcing him to look at her. "Promise me we're gonna make it."

"I- I can't,” he paused shutting his eyes tight before he could look at her, “Valkyrie..." he whispered even he looked away from her, head hanging in sudden shame, "I wish I could lie to you..."

"Adrux..." she whispered, taking hold of his hands, carefully removing his gloves, "Adrux, I want you to hold me, just for tonight, please! It might be the last time we-"

"Kyrie-" he breathed, a whine in the back of his throat, Spirits if he lost her-!

"Make me forget tomorrow's coming, make me forget everything but you." Valkyrie pleaded, entwining their fingers, them kissing his knuckles, her eyes pleading, "let me pretend we're gonna have forever, just the two of us."

"Yes," he whispered, caressing her cheek, "anything for you, my love."

“I love you, so much,” she whispered even as tears gathered in the corner of her eyes, even as he lowered her down on the bed and they rested against each other, a gentle bump of their foreheads.”

“Cut!” Alec shouted, looking at the datapad in his hands, “we definitely got it this time, thank you.”

Jane smiled, caressing her lover’s mandibles, Hawthorn’s personality and Shepard’s intertwining, looking at the gorgeous man on top of her. She felt him caressing her face, wiping out her tears even as she felt him rumbling, “Garrus?”

“Right, scene over,” he smiled weakly at her, a rumbling in his chest that clearly signalled distress, that much she had learnt.

“I love you big guy,” she leaned forward, stealing a kiss from him. They usually avoided PDA’s on set that weren’t between their characters, but in such a heavy and emotionally draining scene. She looked at their audience from the corner of her eye, all of them politely looking away from the two of them, and hugged her partner her hands resting at the back his neck. “I love you so much,” she smiled, indulging in a second kiss even as he stood stock still, hands gripping her waist even as he relaxed against her.

Alec cleared his throat pointedly, and they parted in somewhat embarrassed silence, they never had to have the ‘Talk’ from the director, not about being professionals; Jane looked at the man rolling his eyes at them, smiling sheepishly, looked like they wouldn’t be breaking their form, not that day at least.

Scene 1, act 3, ‘home’:

“So what happened today?” She asked as soon as they finished wrapping up the day, walking side by side to their shared trailer, mostly to remove make up and, in Garrus’ case, the prosthetics on his face.

“Got overwhelmed, just-” he stopped, taking her hand in his, caressing her fingers.

“Intrusive thoughts?” She asked gently, rubbing his knuckles, “stop poking at your mandible, it’s gonna be sore the whole night.” She admonished, changing sides so she would walk on his right, taking a hold of the offending hand and dropping a kiss where the prosthetic usually went; Garrus had zero patience for letting make up crew remove it.

“Just don’t want to lose you, not now,” the ‘not ever’ was silent but she still squeezed his fingers.

“Lucky for you, you’ll never have to.”

“Jane,” he sighed, a displeased note to his subvocals, he hated platitudes.

“I’m not gonna promise forever unless I mean it, Garrus, and I do, you know I do,” she sighed, their trailer was in sight, but she didn’t want to go inside, not yet. “How’s this, I’ll never voluntarily leave you, I’ll try my damned best to honour that promised,” she smiled at him again, impish, “and you know my best is pretty damn awesome.”

“Because you’re Commander Hawthorn?” He asked lightly, his thumb running through her knuckles, a gentle caress neither of them were exactly aware of.

“No, because I’m gonna be your wife, and that’s one role I cannot fail,” she grinned, suddenly stuck with a thought and dragging him back to their trailer.

“Jane? Jane!”

“You know when we talked about living together? Getting our own place? I may or may not have gone ahead and gotten a contract signed up for a flat on the Citadel, one of the nicer Wards, just you, me and Commander Whiskers. What do you think?” She turned to him with a blinding smile, her hands shaking slightly, it was almost like asking him to marry her all over again.

“I think you need to show me the place, then we need to buy furniture,” he gripped her hands tight, drawing her into a hug and getting her off her feet, “I think your collection of ships are gonna look awesome next to my collection of riffles.”

“I think… I think I’m gonna stay with you for the rest of my life.”

[emrisemrisemris]

It’s #turianweek, and for day 1 I got to thinking about First Contact. Specifically, first contact, ifyouknowwhatImean.

So who was the first human to kiss a turian?

Somebody Had To Be First

Gio Minasian had grown up on a farm in the middle of what could charitably be described as the back end of nowhere, put up with the jokes about farm kids and local wildlife right through basic training, and bristled reflexively whenever one of the Earth-trained senior techs looked surprised that their hotshot translation specialist had a Shanxi accent thick enough to float rocks. Never mind that the colony had eight official languages and had produced some really innovative work on processor-efficient real-time translation. Never mind he'd come top of his class at SXTU. There's this thing called the Net, you'd think they'd have heard of it - 

 "Trust me, I get it," the alien said.  

The translators were working well now; they'd begun to recognise colloquialisms, although it'd probably be months before the databases were large enough to give sensible results for slang. "The way some people talk, you'd think we'd never left Palaven. Cradle of civilisation, crucible of the Empire -" 

 "Where are you from?" Gio said curiously. The alien - turian - was seven feet of chitin and spikes, and had a two-tone voice that purred and buzzed in a barrel-like chest, and which he could have listened to for hours.The translator had rendered his name as Luhe Rexarn. 

 "Taetrus. Farm country, like you." Luhe downed his drink and reached one clawed hand for the decanter. "And the jokes. You would not believe -" 

 "Oh, I would," said Gio. "I have to say, it's kind of ... nice to know aliens have the same problems we do." 

 "Some things are common to all races," Luhe said laconically. "Idiots, for one. A shortage of good-looking people, for another. Present company excepted." 

 Gio sighed, and pulled out his tablet. "Sorry, I think the translation software just threw another error. Still working on some -" 

 "Oh hell, what'd I say?" Luhe leaned over, voice concerned. "I only meant to flirt a bit -"  

Gio opened his mouth, then closed it again, and then put the tablet away. 

 * 

 "How do you - look, where did you learn how to -" 

 "I've slept with asari. You're not that different. Just beige." Luhe's claws stroked his chest, tongue - Christ, that tongue - exploring Gio's ear. "You're a pretty fast learner yourself ..." 

They'd found an empty shuttle and blacked the windows, and gone at it like they were teenagers again. Gio wondered briefly how many other members of the bloated diplomatic party had sneaked off similarly: he'd seen enough of his roommates' Net profiles to know he wasn't the only one intrigued by spines and fangs, even if the whole thing had been strictly theoretical up til now - 

Luhe stopped. 

 "I ... don't feel so good ..." 

 * 

The morning after, Gio took what felt like his own bodyweight in antihistamines, under the sardonic eye of Dr Ogun, and reported as ordered to the captain's office. 

"Congratulations, Minasian," Captain Chen said. She had a whole repertoire of dry tones; this one could have given the lunar regolith a run for its money. "You've made history." 

 Gio fixed his gaze on a point slightly above the Captain's left ear, and said enquiringly "I'm sorry, ma'am?" 

"Somebody had to be first. Well done. You're it." Chen sighed. "Look. I know the - details - are none of my business. You're both consenting adults, we aren't at war - at the moment - and you didn't disgrace the uniform. At least I hope you didn't," she added as Gio contemplated whether it was actually possible to spontaneously combust from embarrassment. "What I need to know is, what do you want us to say to the press?"

[zialinart]

Avitus Rix and Macen Barro, the turians pathfinders, for the Turian appreciation week because I was sad Bioware didn’t make a happy ending for those two

[kestrelsansjesses]

“i can’t breathe, i can’t –” for Rydros!

The Archon’s fingers reached through her chest, going through flesh and bone as if they were water. His claws seemed to sink directly into her heart, fingers lengthening to impossible dimensions, until they were no longer appendages but entire entities on their own. Two sought outward, twining around ribs until one was in the left lung, one in the right, puncturing them as easily as childhood balloons. The air hissed out until there was none left; choking on her tongue, Wren Ryder came awake, gasping. No air, no air!

Somehow, she managed to sit up, hauling herself up the headboard to gasp desperately, no longer sure where she was, who she was. The Archon- where was the Archon?

Someone laid a hand in between her shoulder blades. All she could feel was the claws it ended in, more talons, not the right amount of fingers. “Ryder.” A flanged voice, one she knew. Ryder. Yes. That was her. She was Ryder.

“I can’t breathe, I can’t-” She still didn’t know who was speaking to her, but a few words choked out; their very presence should have logically told her she could breathe, but she was still stuck in the dream, the real world feeling more faint than the dreamscape.

A large fist thumped into her back, hard enough that she was forced to take a deep breath of air. Oxygen. She could breathe again, taking desperate gasps that slowly calmed in time with a slow rubbing along the small of her back, fingers finding every knot to relieve the pressure slowly. Though she was still on high alert, she could remember parts of who she was, where she was. This was the Tempest, the low hum of the ship’s power supply a necessary noise for falling asleep now. Even when docked, it was far from silent, just how she liked it.

She was Wren Ryder, human Pathfinder as of a few months ago. The title still sat on her shoulders uneasily, but she had grown to inhabit at least part of it decently well. The Archon was still a force to be reckoned with, still out there waiting and lurking, but they were getting closer. One day they would defeat that bastard. He had killed her once already though- that was what the dream was about, fading just as quickly as it had come on, leaving only a residual panic.

“You with me, Wren?” And that was Kandros at her side, concerned enough to use her first name. Kandros. Wordlessly, she buried her head against his hard chest, feeling how cool it was against her cheek. He stroked the back of her head carefully, catching her hair and releasing it as carefully as he could. “Another nightmare?” he finally ventured.

Ryder gave a muted nod before extracting herself, running a hand through her hair and then rubbing her eyes, trying to convince herself that it was only sleep that made them feel so watery. “This one didn’t feature Tann in it, at least.” A forced smile cracked her face.

Kandros lay back down, gesturing for her to do the same, placing a pillow in the crook of his arm for her to rest her head. As she snuggle down into it, he ran his fingers through her hair still, strands gently winding around his digit and then being released to lie half-wavy on the pillow. ���The Archon?”

Instead of giving an answer, Ryder said, “I’m going to kill him one day, and then I’m going to put his head on the front of the Tempest as a trophy.”

“Not on a pike? And I thought you were a woman of taste, Ryder.” Despite the way her chest still felt too tight, she laughed, turning her head and propping herself on an elbow to kiss the side of Kandros’ mandible.

Silence lapsed over them again. Was it safe to fall asleep? Her eyes felt so heavy, but she could just remember the pain, how her dream manifested itself in a physical way she hadn’t thought possible.

“Sleep, Ryder. I’ll stay awake.” And just like that, while it was not totally better, she felt more relieved. If she slipped back into it, Kandros would wake her up, and though her brow was still slightly furrowed, she was more than happy to slip off again.

[bethadastra-art]

Day One: Introductions

A WIP because life is crazy; Shastina Emperus is a canon (historic) character that I have hit over the head with a sketchbook and run off with. I’d love to write out her story as I see it, but that will be a long long long time coming.

If I used the Shepard system as a personality template, I would describe her as ruthless, renegon, and an excellent strategist. She smokes like a chimney, is a bit of an insomniac, and while she doesn’t realize it at first, she is extremely protective of children. There’s a lot more, but I’m saving that for another time.

[samrubio]

Turian week

Kharis Maxthor

Turian Male

Age: young (25 -27 maybe)

Hierarchy position: medium/ Turian specter

Description:   He’s a tough guy.  He likes to get things done. He doesn’t obey rules. He’s a little grumpy about having a human partner but he also enjoys a nice drink and a nice chat with almost everyone. He thinks his the funniest turian specter (he’s not). He is very confident, very skillful and he is very sexy, sadly he doesn’t know that, Kharis is a young specter so he tries very hard to fit in there. 

[justkeepcalibrating]

The Archangel Rises

Day two of turianweek focused on the hierarchy and how it shaped them.  So here’s some Garrus inner struggle, I guess.  I’m not sure how this fits in, but this is as good as it gets people!  I’m writing and that’s all that matters!

This takes place directly after the destruction of the Normandy at the beginning of ME2.  With Shepard gone, Garrus tries to figure out what to do with his life now that his C-SEC journey is over.  The events that transpire change his life.

Garrus set his empty bottle on the table in front of him as he leaned back in his seat.  He took a deep breath as his eyes scanned the room, folding his arms as he looked at the sorry people he had surrounded himself with.  So, this was what it came to?  With Shepard gone and the rest of the team scattered, he had become just another drunk turian taking up space in Afterlife.  Omega had become a great place to let his anger and frustration out since the crash. 

While the destruction wasn’t his fault, Garrus couldn’t help but blame himself.  There was surely something he could have done.  Something he could have done to make sure that Shepard had made it out of the Normandy before it exploded.  With his guilt slowly eating him up, there was plenty of thugs waiting for him to work out his frustration.

He never expected all of this.  Shepard had been a big part of his life and now she was just gone...It had only been a short time, but still...what was he supposed to do now?  Going back to C-SEC didn’t seem like much of an option even if they would take him back. 

What would Shepard do in this situation?

His head lowered as he rolled the bottle back and forth in his claws.  C-SEC had been great for what it was.  His last ditch effort to help others and in turn make his father happy, but now...

As he watched the other patrons in the bar having a good time, his eyes focused on one group in particular that increasingly seemed to be getting more and more handsy with one of the dancers.  The asari tried to play it off, subsequently removing the turian’s hand from her lower area, but the action didn’t seem to deter him.  It was something they were surely used to, but the action still frilled his feathers.  The turian turned and laughed to his batarian buddies.

Time passed.  Garrus had tried to distract himself with other people that filled the Afterlife, but his eyes still found their way back to the loud group that was being more obnoxious than he usually could endure.  The asari had eventually left their table to take care of some of the other patrons, but Garrus knew that look in their eyes.  Besides, he had nothing else better to do.  Making sure that the well-being of those that have taken care of him during his binge got the favor returned wasn’t a bad way to pass the time.  Plus this could be a good way to get on Aria T’loak’s good side and you couldn’t put a price tag on that.

The turian playfully smacked the human and nodded his head towards the door.  As Garrus followed their line of sight and saw that the girl they had been fondling earlier had started to make her way out the front door.  Her shift must have been over.  Garrus glared at them, his eyes boring into the back of their heads.

Don’t do it.  Don’t do it.

The men got up.

Shit.

Garrus stood up, placed some money on the table before following the boys outside of the club.  The streets bustled with the usual noise, but nothing that could distract Garrus from those in front of him.  The dark parts of the cluster doing well to hide him as he dove in and out of cover.  He took out his pistol, taking care not to be too far out in the open as he followed along behind them.  The boys by this point had caught up with the asari and after a brief interaction, they pushed her into one of the alleyways.

Garrus maneuvered around the walls, continuing to stick to the shadows as much as possible.  The girl shrieked, causing Garrus to move faster and into the alleyway that they had pushed her in.

“Step away, scumbag,” Garrus said, his voice low and menacing.  He didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but he couldn’t deny that it sounded way cooler when he put that tone of voice on it.  It reminded him of some of the old human westerns that Shepard had introduced him to while on the Normandy.  Even now it seemed she still affected him.  He shook his head, refocusing on the guys that were in front of him.

He held out his pistol, but pointed it at their feet, threatening them to step away from the girl.  While the alleyway was dark, he could see them fooling around.  The asari had been pressed up against the wall, trapped by the turians claws.  The sudden intrusion startled the group, their attention completely shifted onto the turian with the gun.

The turian let the girl go, the asari taking off into the alley.  The batarian turned to look back at her, debating whether he was going to continue after their prey, but decided pretty quickly that dealing with Garrus would be more entertaining.  Lucky him.

“Playing hero, eh?”  The turian said, laughing as the three pulled out their own guns.  “Might not be such a good idea.”

Garrus scoffed.  “Oh, you never know.  It may not be a good idea, but it will be a lot of fun.” 

Bullets started flying from all parties, but the entire event became a blur.  The smile never left Garrus’ face as the boys dropped one by one.  Doing his best not to kill them, he had made sure that he didn’t hit any vital organs, ending with a swift kick that knocked them all out.

He was out of breath, with only a few scratches here and there, but more than anything, he had come out unscathed.  He tried to catch his breath, but it had been so invigorating.  While he had helped plenty of people while he was at C-SEC, he always had to follow the line.  By the time he had followed the law to help someone, it was more often than not too late.  That was what pissed him off about the job.  He wanted to help others, but he couldn’t do that with his hands tied.  This feeling though...it was empowering.  He saw some bad guys and he took them out. 

No strings, no lines. no ropes to hold him back.  Just him, the bad guys, and his gun.

He sheathed his gun, his eyes focusing on the figure that was coming back into view in front of him.  The asari slowly made her way back.  “Are they...”

“Taken care of.  Are you alright?”  Garrus said, taking one last deep breath as he focused his attention on the girl.

She smiled.  “Yes, thank you so much for helping me.  I can usually handle myself around the customers, but it seems that some need an extra hand.”  She paused for a moment as she looked down at them.  “No one looks out for the little guys here.  No one really looks out for anyone on Omega.  There isn’t anything that I can offer you, but you have my gratitude.”

She nodded her head before turning and walking back in the direction of her home.  This is what Shepard would have done, he was sure of it.  There was no law here, but that didn’t mean that the people on this cluster would get away with their wrongdoings.  Shepard was sure of her actions and made sure that those that did wrong, paid for it.  Sympathy for those who needed it and more importantly, a just hand.  This was the right decision, he was sure of it.  He had never been more sure of anything in his life.

Garrus grinned as he watched her.  “Maybe now, there will be.”

AN; I hope this was better than it seemed in my head when I read it.  Not quite sure where the ‘frilled his feathers’ came from in my mind, but it made me giggle so it stays.

If you like what you’ve read, feel free to read my other Shakarian fics here!

[sparatus]

Clawball: the Sport of Palavenian Champions

Clawball is a canon turian sport mentioned in supplementary material [wiki]. The contents of this post are strictly headcanon, as Bioware made no further discussion of the sport. And as anybody who was here for the Twins game against the Tigers a few Sundays ago* knows, I am actually a jock wearing a clever nerd disguise, so there’s my credentials for making up a fictional sport. Happy #turianweek!

The Basics

Clawball is played with two teams of five. Each team guards three hoops, which are attached vertically to curved backboards that help guide the ball in. The goal of the game is to put the ball through one of the hoops and gain more points than the opposing team. More casual games and courts set up in public parks use one hoop, rather than three. Games typically last for roughly three hours, with brief breaks between each hour to allow the players to rest, stretch, and get water.

The rules of the game are generally straightforward. Players throw the ball to each other, or attempt to steal the ball from the opposing team. They can only touch the ball with their hands; children’s, amateur, and semi-pro leagues are allowed to use both hands, but professional leagues allow only one hand on the ball at a time. Once a player catches a ball, they are allowed to take three steps before they must either switch which hand is touching the ball or throw it to another player. Players may push opposing players out of the way of the ball, but only push. Striking another player with one’s talons is not allowed. Pushing is limited to only contacting the other player with one’s hands, but full-body checking occurs with increasing frequency in higher-level leagues. As the crowd greatly enjoys body checks, professional players become masters at performing them in such a way that still ensures their hands and forearms are all that make contact.

The ball is roughly the size of a turian head, traditionally made of a shaped porous rock and covered in leather for comfort. Since the turian space age, synthetic materials have been substituted for the rock interior, though balls with the rocky core are still used by traditionalists. Urban legend states the earliest clawball “balls” were in fact skulls, but no evidence has been found to support this claim. At the beginning of each season, each team receives a new ball to use for the duration. New balls are completely smooth, but as the season wears on, grooves are slowly worn into it where the players’ talons grip and slide over the surface. The ball used during a league championship is given to the player who scored the final winning points during the game as an additional trophy.

Fun for the Whole Galaxy

There are clawball leagues on nearly every level -- from all over turian space, to the neighborhoods in a single city, to what essentially amounts to Little League. The most popular and well-known is the Imperial League, which includes teams from most colonies in the Empire, as well as the Citadel. Worlds such as Palaven and Digeris, with multiple major, imperially-important cities across the planet, field multiple teams. In recent centuries, the Imperial League has also adopted the moniker of the Interstellar League, as some felt “Imperial” may come across as too exclusionary.

Leagues for non-turian players have also sprung up in the past several centuries, though these do not reach as wide audiences as the turian leagues. Aliens playing with turians is strongly discouraged beyond casual and amateur games, due to anatomical differences. Alien players are fitted with gauntlets that temporarily augment them with talons similar to a turian’s, so players can perform similar moves to their turian counterparts.

The league for disabled players is also quite popular. This league allows more leniency with the rules, allowing players to choose their own accommodations according to their own needs. A popular sentiment among fans is that half the fun is seeing the different ways players find to compensate for their disabilities, and the new moves and strategies they invent. In honor of this, the Disabled League has made its official motto, “The Sport of Innovation.”

Show Your Team Spirit

Clawball is considered the turian imperial pastime, and as such it’s incredibly common for even non-sports fans to consider themselves (very) casual supporters of one team or another, usually the one from their home city or region, though several Imperial League teams have reached supporters across the galaxy. For example:

In 2183, the Acalin Claw-Fiends have been the reigning league champions for four years running. Hailing from a hub city in Palaven’s far north, the Claw-Fiends are noted for being the favored team of Councilor Sparatus, an Acalin native.

Cipritine holds the distinction of being the only location in the empire to have two teams, the Cipritine Telal and Cipritine Imperials. The two teams share a rivalry and reputation set similar to the New York Mets and Yankees of human baseball; the Imperials are more universally famous, but the Telal are more popular. “Fuck the Imperials” is a common sentiment among clawball fans.

The Carthaan Kabalii brought fame to their otherwise unremarkable colony home, thanks to their reputation as the “lovable losers” of the league, always coming close, but never winning the championships. A popular saying is, “No matter what else is going wrong in the universe, the Kabalii will always lose.”**

The Altakiril Ice-Wraiths [roughly translated from the original turian term, a mythological ice monster] usually hover around the middle of the league, except for the eight years of Quiria Ignascus’s run with them, during which they made it to the championships three times, and even won in 2178, only to be unseated by the Claw-Fiends the next year.

The most popular choice for casual fans beyond their home region’s team are the Citadel Widowers, who were added to the league roughly 250 years after the turians came to the station.

To avoid unfair biases, championship games are played on neutral territory, on a court belonging to neither team. For example, the 2182 championship between the Acalin Claw-Fiends and Navialine Nevescelet was played on Digeris, in the stadium normally home to the Apparitus Aranden.

On smaller scales, planetary leagues (the Palavenian League, the Digeran League, etc) often enjoy even more heated debates than Imperial League circles. These leagues are, of course, divided even more specifically than simply by major settlement, so turians are able to choose a team even closer to their home.

The Citadel has its own league, made up of 2 teams each from the Presidium and each of the five Wards. This league is the most common introduction to the sport for aliens, as well as being a way for turians on the Citadel to bond over the sport without arguing over whose preferred Imperial League team is superior. Despite its comparatively small size, the Citadel League is listed among planetary leagues.

For further information, the Turian Imperial Clawball League hosts an extranet site, with links to the official sites of all teams and other leagues. Or simply ask your local turian!

-

*This is also how I make myself feel better about being this close to seeing a grand slam but missing out because the Tigers’ pitcher pitched too good. IT’S OKAY ESCOBAR I STILL LOVE YOU best inning i’ve ever watched my dudes

**Special thanks to my 11th grade English teacher, Mr. Dressen, a lifelong fan of the Chicago Cubs who told our class that whenever you felt like the world was turning upside down, you could take comfort in the universal constants: the sun will always rise in the east, the government will always want your money, and the Cubs will always lose.