#who knows there was also fire and blood and. mandibles maybe?

[triangular-static]

okay this is one of those things that i imagine people who read journal 3 a while ago already knew but i'm just reading it now so.

static when a dimension is destroyed that's fun huh :] when the cause is a dimensional rule being broken :] i wonder if the same kind of rule would apply to whatever bill did trying to show a 3d reality to a 2d world :]

[literaila]

magnetic attraction 

part one. 

tasm!peter x fem!reader 

summary: after a bad interaction with peter, your interaction with spider-man could not be any more chaotic. 

warnings: ha. angst/fluff. and then. so much banter. too much banter. 

a/n: to bob, who put on her spider-man mask and pretended to roleplay with me (also i don’t hate john green. the fault in our stars is good.)

*

"hey, what's the answer to number seven?" 

here's the thing. 

despite any and all efforts made to introduce peter into your life as an ex--because you broke up. that's a thing--he is anything but. 

simple solution, you know. 

avoid him. 

follow the rules of break-ups. write yourself a checklist and make sure that there aren't any empty boxes left at the end of the day. no spaces to fill, no void to think about. 

channel the resentment. fuel the anger, make yourself even madder, make him a bad guy so that maybe you won't miss him this much. block his number, forget any important thing that you know about him. 

simple. easy. breathing is hard in comparison. 

and still, you can't do any of it. 

because you don't hate him. you really, really can't. 

and the thing, you and peter have always been magnets. 

even before any of it, you were drawn to each other. 

when he pushed, you pulled. when you pushed--he grabbed on so tight you were worried about blood circulation. 

you met him in chemistry, and after that, you met him everywhere else. 

the grocery store and on campus and walking home from places that peter really shouldn't have been. 

you met him and that was that. 

you have always been lab partners. and you're not speaking to him enough--at all, because there are rules--to fix the issue. to ask to sit somewhere else. 

to break this foundation with a sledgehammer. 

and if there's a tiny part of you that just can't let go--erase a checkmark--then you ignore it. you don't want his warmth. you don't want to feel him laughing right next to you. you don't want to even know peter at all. 

you don't-- 

"what?" you don't look over at him. it's an unspoken rule. 

"number seven." 

"it's--" you breathe in, steal a look at his paper. completely blank. "can't you see it?" 

"what?" peter's voice is so soft, so quiet and unrelenting that you can barely hear it. 

it blares like a siren in your ear. 

"my paper. can't you see it? i can see yours." 

"why are you looking at my paper?" 

this might've been a joke, four weeks ago. 

"peter." 

he doesn't respond. pretends to write something down even though you both know that he was sleeping the whole class--until the teacher came over and asked him if he needed to see the nurse and peter responded with a polite smile which you definitely didn't stare at. 

it's too quiet. 

"here," you slide it over to him, just slightly, looking straight ahead at a poster of a skeleton. mandible, clavicle, sternum. 

you wait. 

"why didn't you just look over?" you ask him, maybe just because you have no sensibility left. 

"it's cheating if i steal it off of your sheet." 

"you're opposed to cheating now?" 

you can practically hear his teeth grinding together, as sure as a drill to a nail. 

you breathe in. fire moves down your stomach and back up. it doesn't take a genius to know that no matter how many deep breaths you take, the feeling isn't going to go away. 

radius, ulna. 

"nevermind," peter slides the paper back to you. he's got bruised knuckles. 

"you don't know how to do any of this," you say to him, pushing it back. 

he pushes, you pull. 

you look back up. sacrum, patella. 

"i got it." 

"peter." 

he is completely silent. 

there are only unspoken words between the two of you. 

"i got it, okay?" his voice is soft, but it's a snap. it's a rubber band, hitting back. 

you both know it. 

and so, your fingertips brush the edge of your paper, because if he doesn't want your help then you don't need to help him, and if he doesn't want to talk to you then it's even easier to cross 'silent treatment' off of the list. 

it only takes him a moment to stop you. "sorry," he whispers. 

and it's enough. because you're feeble. because you know him, even four weeks later. 

you scribble over the list. 

"will you help me with this one?" 

you know that he doesn't need help. you know that you probably do. 

still, you lean a little bit closer--making sure to keep a foot of distance at all times. "okay." 

peter looks at you, a small smile on his face, and you forget to look away. 

you forget all of the ground rules and fall off the edge of the earth. 

you trip and run directly into him. 

and you swallow, tasting the bile before you can push it down. you feel the fire, anger, like you've been trying to throw away. 

"what--" you swallow again, try to take a deep breath without it being too noticeable. "you've got another bruise." 

and a cut. and a yellowing face. and circles under his eyes that can almost compare with yours. 

immediately peter looks away. he hides again. 

you want to feel ashamed, you want to be guilty. but even still--fear isn't something that goes away with him. 

and love, no matter how much you beg it, won't burn itself to the ground. 

"doesn't matter," peter mutters, scribbling on his paper again. "do i need to divide or multiply--" 

"peter." 

he looks towards you, but he's staring at the wall. 

"what happened?" 

"i thought you didn't want any more excuses." 

"that doesn't mean that i don't care, peter," you whisper it, but the words come out of your mouth like an attack. 

peter's eyes meet yours, and you see a flash of something almost unrecognizable. 

"actually," he swallows. his frown sends sparks down your core, leaving burn marks in their wake. "i thought that you didn't want to talk to me at all." 

you struggle for words, you try to reach out and grab them but they're too far. 

this is much more than a worksheet. 

"that's what you said, right? that you didn't want to talk to me until i--" 

"this isn't--that's not--" you're too close to him. 

you're far too close. he's leaned in enough. 

you can feel him. 

and this, god, this is breaking every ground rule. this is unspoken and broken promises and your throat feels dry and your hands are clammy. 

you've never not known how to talk to him. 

peter scoffs, in the silence, into the expanse of the world and directly in your face. he throws back more than you could ever catch. 

and his eyes are completely serious when he says "just leave me alone, y/n."  

the bell rings, and peter gets up. 

he's better at this than you are. 

*

and later that night, you're still angry. 

you're still completely fed up with reality, with being alone, with having to sit there in class and just pretend that it's all fine. 

you accuse peter of lying, but between the two of you, the scales are only balanced. 

maybe that's why you're standing on the roof of your apartment building. 

a bad day, a couple of bad weeks. feelings that wrap themselves so tight around your throat that they keep you from breathing. 

peter, and his smiles, and his eyes--because you know his eyes. 

and you can pretend all you want that you've given him no room to be angry; that he has no right. 

but you'd just be lying. 

a particular brand of hypocrisy. 

so maybe it's self-pity that leads you up the stairs. maybe it's loneliness. 

regret, never. yearning, absolutely not. 

you lie to yourself again and again and imagine that it's all some joke. you'll laugh eventually. 

you don't want peter to come back. 

you don't want to be afraid to look in his eyes, at his face. you don't want to expect him to come home late at night and have blood dripping down his face. you don't want to presume that everything he says--all the stupid promises he makes you--are only lies. 

you don't want precedents. 

and you really don't want to be alone. 

so, the roof. the tiny little things to help you escape from the ever imminent reality. 

peter isn't coming back. you don't want him to. 

and still, talking to him earlier that day, being angry at him, getting him to snap at you. 

it felt like relief. 

it felt like a gasp of air, like drowning yourself for years and then finally deciding to swim up the surface. it felt like scrubbing the infection from your skin, finally, and finding a new layer of yourself underneath. 

it felt like peter. 

and you miss peter. you're not stupid enough to deny that. 

and the book you'd been reading--because the roof is a substitute room--is missing. 

you look under another box. push some spare trash around, hoping that maybe you'd just misplaced it. 

you're doing this when you hear a crash just a couple of feet behind you. 

a quick casual earthquake almost making you trip over the nearest box. 

and when you spin around, still trying to catch your balance, you realize that you aren't alone. 

maybe it's the man that crashed onto your roof--because it is yours--almost tackling you as he came down. he is two feet away from you.

just maybe.

you're frozen in shock for a moment, fingers reaching out to touch him--just to make sure that he's alive--but never getting quite close enough. 

luckily for you, spider-man jumps up before you feel around your pockets for some spare courage. 

"jesus," he says as if he didn't just almost kill you. he looks away, up at the sky, like he's expecting it to laugh back. 

and you stare at him. unsure what to say. 

what to be doing in a situation where a superhero has fallen onto your roof and ended the possibility of any quiet time. 

how to feel when the man turns to look at you, frozen. how to feel when, after a moment, he merely waves a hand at you like he's a celebrity. 

"what are you doing here?" the words fly out of your mouth, stupid and slightly scared. 

"i--" he shakes his head. tilts his head like he's trying to get water out of his ear. 

your brow furrows. your heart stutters off the edge of your ribs. "are you hurt?" 

"fit as a fiddle." 

you blink, trying to comprehend the words at the speed they come out. 

you stare at him, then look up, then back to him. he's whistling, completely casual. 

"you just fell onto my roof," you say, eyes wide. 

spider-man takes a step away from you, shakes out his foot. "was it that obvious?" 

"you..." you stare at him. he's taller than you are. long. breathing too hard. "you're spider-man." 

"pleasure," he pretends to tip a hat at you. you ignore that, for his own dignity. 

you feel your heart climb out from your body, telling you that it's going to take a break. 

"where did you come from?" you look around, expecting a camera and crew to jump out from behind a box. 

"a building," he says, so simply. "was trying something new." 

"it didn't work." 

spider-man looks at you again, head tilted. "ha." 

"aren't you, like--" you swallow. "supposed to be nice? and uh, good at what you do? isn't there a superhero code to... not scare unsuspecting strangers?" 

"i'm nice," he defends. "i'm spider-man," he reaches his hand out as if to introduce himself. 

you stare. blink. try to shove the shock away from your system. 

it doesn't work. 

"i already said that." 

"you can shake my hand anyway. tell your friends." 

you blink. "what?" 

"did i hit you?" he asks, very serious now. maybe concerned. he tries to take a step closer, maybe to look at you, but you move back. 

a bit perturbed by this man being an inch away from your face. 

"i'm okay." 

he tsks. "that's not an answer." 

"i'm pretty sure you didn't hit me," you revise, continuing to step back every time he gets any closer. 

but he is much faster than you. 

"pretty sure?" 

"positive." 

"really?" 

you nod your head, very seriously. you analyze every little twitch of his limbs. 

"because you don't seem okay," he says. he taps his temple. "you might've hit your head." 

"i didn't fall." 

he pauses, movement stopping. "maybe i hit my head." 

"that would explain a lot," you say, the words coming out before you can stop them. 

spider-man is still staring at you. you're pretty sure that you hear him laugh--but you're also certifiably insane, so who really knows?

he waits a moment, like he's searching for something, and then bends down. 

when he straightens, he's got something in his hands. "this yours?" 

you swallow. squint and try to see it clearly. "yeah," you say, "that's-that's my book." 

and in that brief moment, you begin to wonder if you're just imagining all of this. 

spider-man turns it around in his hands, looking at it very closely. "the fault in our stars?" 

you nod. 

"you're reading this?"

you nod again. 

"seriously?" his voice goes up with his words, a bit disbelieving. 

you furrow your brows, cross your arms. "what's wrong with that?" 

"it's just... oh, you know, the worst." 

"you've read it?" 

"no." 

you wait for him to elaborate. he does not. 

"then how would you know that it's bad?" you ask, not believing that you're actually having this conversation. 

that spider-man is judging your book choices. and that he fell onto your roof and still hasn't apologized for almost killing you. 

maybe you did die. 

"do you get out a lot?" spider-man asks you like you're a weird little hermit bothering him on his night out. like he hasn't just made you question every single concrete thing you thought you knew. 

"what does that have to do with anything?" minute by minute, your scowl gets harder. 

spider-man doesn't answer, merely nods his head as if your response gave him everything he needed to know. 

"what?" you demand, trying to grab the book from his hands. 

spider-man laughs. it's a small chuckle amidst the wind. he's got a deep voice. "i think it's a part of my civic duty to keep this away from you." 

"i've never heard about you being an asshole in the news," you mumble, trying again to grab the book from his hands. 

"what was that?" spider-man asks, leaning his ear towards you comically. 

you give up. stare at him for a moment. 

any emotions you feel in this exact moment have no name. 

"for a superhero," you tell him, face void of anything, "you're not very super." 

"what a nice thing to say," he brings his hand to his chest, mock-appreciative. 

you glare. "can i have my book back?" 

"for a civilian," he says, sing-songing just enough to make it noticeable, "you're not very civil." 

you almost, almost groan. you almost, almost laugh. "why are you here?" you demand, again, irritation climbing up your spine. 

why you're his designated target is unclear. 

"don't you have better things to be doing than annoying random girls on rooves?" 

he pretends to consider it. "not really, no." 

"there are no cats to save from trees?" 

and really, you don't mean to joke. you don't mean to let the smile slip. 

"you're funny," spider-man says, leaning back against the ledge of the roof. "why are you here?" 

"i live here." 

"pretty sure that door says 'do not enter.'" 

"you can't see that far," you tell him, trying to look back. you, of course, already know what it says. 

"i actually can." 

you cross your arms again. raise a brow. "how?" 

he taps his head like it's an answer. 

you stare. insist on being as stubborn and unwelcoming as possible. 

"you know, if you don't answer my question i might be forced to alert the authorities," spider-man pretends to look down at his nails--which, as far as you can see--are non-existent. 

"really?" you deadpan. "a masked vigilante, threatening to call the cops on me? for sitting on a roof?" 

spider-man waves a hand. his ankles are crossed. "please. they love me." 

"i can't see how." 

he raises his hands in defense. "wow. after all i've done for you..." 

"like almost murdering me?" 

"like saving you from a friday night alone." 

you frown. 

his words are a gentle reminder. a gentle push over the edge of this roof. 

"can i have my book back?" you ask, serious now. 

"are you going to answer the question?" 

you imagine that he's blinking at you. you imagine pushing him off of the building. 

"it was loud in my apartment. it's nice out here." 

"your family?" he inquires. 

you shake your head. "just... loud in my head, i guess. whatever. i needed a change of scenery." 

"and to read the fault in our stars." 

you glare at him. 

"i'm honestly saving you," he says. "you should be thanking me." 

you try to grab it from him again. "thank you for stealing my book?" 

at that point, he sits on it. your jaw drops but he ignores it. 

instead, he shrugs, so nonchalant. "just looking out for you." 

you sigh. drop your head in your hands and then look back up. "yeah. okay. can i have it now?" 

"how much did you spend on this?" 

"what?" 

spider-man tilts his head. it seems like he's teasing you but you honestly can't tell. 

"i didn't. we had it." 

spider-man clasps his hands together, a professional psychologist. "so you, before the concussion, just happened to spot this on a bookshelf and decided to read it?" 

"i don't have a concussion," you stare at him, squinting. "and yes." 

"are you an avid romance reader?" 

you blink. tilt your head. "i don't understand the question." 

he nods. "so, no. i mean, obviously. no person with any sort of knowledge, or sense would--" 

"hey!"

he shrugs again. "i'm just saying." 

"okay, then, spider-man," you cross your arms again. "what would you suggest?" 

"maybe finding a real boyfriend. or girlfriend." 

you scoff, a little bit shocked. 

somehow, you've relaxed. adrenaline has brought you here and dropped you off, kissing you goodbye. 

spider-man is an idiot. and a jerk. 

"what are you implying?" 

"that you don't have a significant other," he scratches his neck. "i thought that was obvious." 

you glare at him. "and you do?" 

he pauses. raises a finger in the air like he's got something to say. stutters. drops his hand. 

you smile, smugly. "exactly." 

"yeah, okay, but i get out," he copies your stance, staring. 

"when you're crashing into buildings, maybe." 

he rests his chin on his hand. "ever heard of a coffee shop?" he asks you. "great place to meet people. or the subway? an abandoned church? the park?" 

"nope. don't recall," you respond, dryly. 

"this is new york," he gestures around him like he's making a point. like he's got any point at all. "there are tons of people." 

"and yet, you're still alone." 

spider-man scoffs. "i have better things to do. responsibilities." 

"then how come you've been sitting on my roof for half an hour?" 

"i'm helping you, obviously." 

"how do you know that i don't have better things to do, too?" you shrug. "maybe i'm a superhero." 

"no superhero would read john green in their spare time. we have standards." 

"i find that hard to believe," you look him up and down, making note of spandex. 

he balks--or, at least, seems to. "you are not making me want to give it back." 

"please," you flutter your eyelashes, smiling. "i'll even cancel my subscription to the daily bugle." 

he scoffs again, beginning to say something when there's a crash from below the two of you. 

another earthquake. another superhero falling onto a roof. 

spider-man leans over the ledge, looking down at the city below. then back to you, posture changed. maybe a little bit tenser. 

"just for that comment, i'm leaving," he says, but his voice is easygoing, calm. 

you don't think you want to know what's going on under your feet. 

you reach out to grab the book from him--to forget about this entire night, especially the possibility that it might have improved your mood. minimally. 

but in the blink of an eye, he's gone. 

and there's no evidence that he was ever there. not even a book. 

you run towards the edge, worried that he fell, that he just stole your book, or that you really are going crazy. 

and you see him, swinging away with one hand. 

book in the other. 

you turn around, groaning. 

think about performing a citizen's arrest. 

*

when you climb into bed that night, you try to ignore it. 

realities. sitting on a roof in the cold of the night for no reason. feelings that have faded away, if only to leave a mark. 

you try and try to forget about the entire day. 

about peter and his resentment, his lies, his excuses, and how tired he looked. 

spider-man, who despite all else, made you laugh. at least once. 

that lingering feeling tucks you in. 

concern and worry and fear all morphed into something else. something like doubt. something like you can't feel your own heart. like you have no idea whose skin this is. 

a bug crawling on the ceiling, keeping you awake. 

when you fall asleep, it's to that feeling. 

*

part three.

my masterlist here. 

tags:  @moonlarking @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @random_writer1021

[m0thh-chai]

Experimented on yautja and the subspecies that it created

Alright let’s get down to business. An AU that my friends and I regularly play with, It’s pretty fucking Hectic. I modeled it after Avatar, where humans come to the native planet, and fuck everything up. So here’s the summary before I get into it.

Humans arrived on Quatza-rij, or the yautjan “home world” if you will. The Fuckers kidnapped 2 Yautja children, and experimented on them. The kids were killed during the torture, but special Alien circumstances scientists got their dna, and mutated the fuck out of it, including making more yautja with it. Without further Ado, here’s what happened.

Yautja Abominations

A Yautja abomination is a species that is mainly yautja, but with added dna and advanced abilities. They are generally larger, stronger, taller, faster, and advanced. On rare occasions, the added dna they were mutated with was an animals. Let’s say…Dragon for the sake of this I guess. They would have Horns, wings, sharper claws, longer teeth on their mandibles, maybe tails, and very rarely could breathe fire. The abominations are yautja, mixed with whatever the fuck the humans decide to mutate them with. But after a while, some of the yautja abominations escaped from the facility, leading to wild yautja abominations, not lab grown ones. They tend to be on the edge with Yautja Malisons, with some abominations being accepted and taken as berserkers, and occasionally generals.

Yautja Purebloods

Yautja purebloods are the backwater of the yautja. They are seen as outcasts, because they are the most human with significantly less yautja malison blood than an abomination. They by no means can pass as a yautja Malison(I’ll get into them), whereas some Yautja abominations could. Their yautja malison features are the following: Fangs, no mandibles. A few of the dreadlocks that you see in malisons, but also have human hair. Claws, but They have much smaller Claws than both other subspecies. They tend to have skin patterns/markings, such as what we saw in the first predator movie, that yautjas marking was spots, and in the elder we see in avp, spines. However, this species has evolved to have many secret abilities. They adapted to live out of sight, in secret, and in conditions that no other subspecies could. But by far, their most effective gift is their strongest connection with the gods. While a Malison priestess needs to see a spirit sight, have her spiritual token, her spiritual familiar, her spirit sisters even, a Pureblood priestess needs no more than her Spirit Staff to have a stable connection with her deity, and some can even speak directly with theirs if they are at a spirit sight. The reason they have this power is from their creation. The yautjan child that was captured and it’s dna used to create them, was born from no female yautja, but from the goddess of Power and divinity herself, No’a’tey(made her up and will make a post abt her later).

Yautja Malisons

I really don’t have much to say about these guys, because you see them in every predator movie. If you figured out that I just call them malisons before, then 10 pts to you I guess. But yeah, Malisons are the purebreds, the originals, the ones who weren’t experimented on, and the ones who are native to the mother world. As you know, Malisons are the strictest subspecies by far. Tradition tends to be extraordinarily strong and important for them, Such as their ranks, battle formations, their code, who can become a general, who can become a priestess, how you must complete a ritual, etc. Some will accept abominations and nearly none will accept purebloods, viewing the latter as a stain in the species, especially since the purebloods are yet to even consider sharing their hidden abilities with the Malisons.

Bonus

Abominations and Purebloods have been known to occasionally create clans together, such as the Night clan(clan that I made, my ocs live there, will explain that in another post). Such clans are also open to Yautja Malison Badbloods, depending on what they did to be named Badbloods, and these clans tend to be much less strict, intimidating, and harsh, with more of a laid back and calm approach to everything.

(Gonna @ a few people with yautja stuff for no reason)

@cyvorg

@shaymin-99

[the-goddessfighter]

[ Alien vs Predator Batarou AU - Part 1 ]

by: Little1993lamb

for: Temperans-sama / @the-goddessfighter Word count: 7252 Warning: Background characters' death. Some violence and gore mentions, but not too explicit.

Not exactly a fanfic but more of a long scenario AU headcanon. Caution for bad English and very limited vocabulary as I'm not native English speaker and still not fluent enough, OOC characterizations, and lots of inaccurate concepts compared from the movie plotline as this headcanon is just loosely inspired by it, so please forgive me if this not so good I'm so sorry 🙇💦

----------------------------

This AU headcanon was based on my weird "Alien vs Predator" movie-like dream I had weeks ago. But for this AU, the story has slightly modificated to fit Batarou situation:

• Badd as a Spaceman, working for the extraterrestrial research scientists organization, unexpectedly met Garou in one of his mission.

• Garou as one of the Yautja/Predator warriors, aiding Badd on fighting against the Xenomorphs Aliens.

The other headcanon concepts, like Garou's concept designs for the AU, are written on the notes at the end of story below.

As I promised before, this is my present for you to begin the year 2021, Temperans-sama (and of course also everyone in the fandom). I hope you enjoyed this AU headcanon!

Let's get started! 😊😉👌💖

-----------------------------

Badd was working for Space and Extraterrestrial Research Organization as their Spaceman. Not as the researcher because he hates to work in a lab, he rather to do some actions in the field or outdoor works. There were several divisions for Spacemen jobs in the Organization, but what Badd specialized was the ones who could do fighting or combat. Basically like security guard to ensure the safety of Research Organization members. Sometimes he also being included in a rescue team when there was something life-threatening emergency situation happens.

One day, he got a mission along with his other coworkers in rescue team to save their crewmates, who previously were sent to investigate an unknown spaceship that was approaching Earth's orbit but then they were trapped in there.

Just after arriving on the ship and navigating their crewmates' location, they found a bunch of terrifying monstrous Xenomorph aliens attacking them. Battle was ensued, many of them died because they weren't expected these creatures' presence in the spaceship. None of the hostages crewmates informed them because turned out either they were already dead or incapable to send complete information to the base.

In the middle of fighting inside an alien spaceship, Badd finally met one of the hostage crewmates who is also one of his bestfriend and he joined to fight along with his friend against the creatures.

At the end of exhausting battle, Badd and that one friend survived on escaping from the ship along with some few other crewmates. When Badd asked him on a private room, "Why didn't you send help request more sooner?", the friend just answered, "Because I was waiting for this moment".

Badd saw his friend's appearance changing into an unknown stranger figure: a spiky white haired humanoid alien with heavily intricate armored body. Surprisingly, he is not so hideous like the other alien creatures but still has an otherworldly figure.

Badd was stunned when the stranger alien explained his intention using some language translator device on his helmet armor,

"Initially, my warrior troops were gonna invade your precious Earth but unexpectedly our spaceship was infested by those creatures you've seen before. I'm the Leader and the only survivor during the ambush and that's when your naive crewmates coming to our already wrecked ship. They sent SOS signal to your base when they were under attack. Because I want a chance for long-term survival, I borrowed your dead friend's appearance by shapeshifted as him".

He continued, "Luckily, you found me and think of me as your friend! I must gained your trust by playing along as your crewmate the whole time so I could hop into your ship together with you, thus fulfilling my intention to invade the Earth. Thanks for bringing me along, tiny human..".

The alien warrior ended his speech with a growling voice into the still stunned Badd's ear. Then he reached on his armor helmet mask and slowly took them off, revealing the true face of him:

A humanoid monster-like face with wide ridged forehead, intimidating-looked narrow hollowed eyes in which have round big golden-coloured irises, no nose, has these huge mandibles complete with two sets of long pointed tusks on them, and when they opened a bit Badd could see rows of sharp teeth inside. This alien warrior also has swept-back long spiky white hair, it was the most eye-catching feature on him.

Realizing Badd was observing his unmasked face, the white-haired alien suddenly snarled by opened his mandibles up in front of Badd's face to scare him. He wanted to test if this human would weirded out or cowering in fear from seeing his real appearance or not. But Badd only jolted back in reflex from getting surprised, without any hints of fear detected in his eyes. "You.. aren't scared by me?"

Badd was taken aback by the question, "Huh? Nah. I've seen much worse and it wasn't you, obviously".

"Not for a little bit? Nothing at all?", the alien didn't convinced by Badd's statement at all.

"Yep. 'Sides, I rather looked at your face than have to witness those Lovecraftian abominable creatures in that spaceship before. Hey what are you trying to do, by the way, huhh??", Badd could swears this white-haired alien just wanted to make fun of him. 

The white-haired alien just humming and nodding to himself, "Hmm.. You're indeed an interesting one.", as he placed his hand under his chin and rubbing it, it seems like he found some amusement in Badd.

Although he was indeed caught off-guard by the surprise snarl, Badd didn't afraid of him on a slightest, instead he actually was mesmerized by the alien's charm. Badd blurted out, "Are you gonna eat me?".

The white-haired alien just giving a funny look for a second and then grinning widely after hearing that silly question, showing all of his sharp teeth and fangs inside his mandibles, "No, not yet. Not until I know you better..", a chuckling sounds like a cat's purr was heard from him as he caressed the human's soft cheek with his long claws.

Badd frowned on what the alien had said, 'So in the end he will devours me if I'm not useful anymore?'. He didn't wanna think what he should explain to Zenko when the time has come.

When Badd said he didn't afraid to die, it doesn't mean he wanted to leave his beloved little sister alone, not when she hasn't finished her education in college and reaching her dream! Also, sure as hell not by being eaten by this strange alien!

Seeing Badd was slightly affected by the threatening words, he retreated his hand back. "Well I'm just joking, I never and wont eat humans, don't worry. They make a good prey but totally not good for consumption at all". Then he laughed loudly at Badd's dumb-strucked face. Badd started to feel pissed off: they both had just met and this alien already have the guts for teasing him twice??

The laughing finally ceased, "I think we should cooperating from now on. What is your name, little human?", the alien curiously asked, those bright yellow irises staring deep into Badd's rich dark chocolate eyes, searching for any hints of fear emotions but instead found some fire ablaze in them.

"Badd. My name's Badd, just remember whose human who had saved your sorry ass", he answered while removing the clawed hand that caressed his cheek, boldly swatting it away from him.

The charming white-haired alien quickly caught Badd's hand and clasped it with his palm, "Ooh a feisty one! Seems like I was right for choosing to fight along with you minutes ago, you're quite strong for a mere human. I like that. And you can call me 'Garou'. Nice to meet you, Badd..".

From the corner of his eye, Badd saw 'Garou' took something from his pocket. It was a small piece of the Xenomorph's sliced finger. He squished it a bit until the green-ish blood residue leaked out from the cut, then slowly moved it closer towards Badd's face.

"Stay still, Badd", the warrior instructed him.

"WHOAA NONO NO NO, GET IT AWAY FROM MY FACE!!", the young spaceman tried to swat that finger thing from Garou's hand and moved away as far as possible, refusing Garou's request.

"I said stay still! Calm down it's just a quick little brush", Garou insisted as he keeps holding Badd's hand to prevent Badd from swatting and moving too much.

The moment Badd's forehead being brushed by the blood as Garou carved a symbol on him, his skin sizzled from the contact of corrosive acid fluid and those left red scratched marks as the result.

"OUCH OW THAT HURTS! IT BURNED MY SKIN, JACKASS!!", Badd shouted then grimaced at the burned sensation on his forehead, he let out pained moaning. "Uuh.. What's that for?"

"I'm 'marking' you. You fight along with me, you even managed to kill those creatures despite being a human. Therefore, you earned my respect to bear an honourable mark from me," Garou smiled proudly at Badd, genuinely happy to find such a strong fierce human at the first meeting.

Badd didn't know how he should reacted at the explanation, but after seeing Garou's genuine proud expression he thought maybe it was actually a very rare honourable thing to be given outside his clan. From the spaceship window glass reflection, Badd could see the fresh carved scratched-like mark. He was admiring how neat the mark Garou has carved onto his forehead. An honour mark.

"Umm.. Honestly I didn't expected it, but.. Thank you, I guess?", Badd muttered while caressing his freshly marked skin.

"You're welcome, tiny human. So, right now we are heading towards your precious Earth, right? Do you have any spare room in your house for me, hmm?", Garou grinning confidenty, expecting for more interesting things from Badd after they live together.

Badd felt an impending huge migrane forming in his head, as well as the sudden urge to facepalm so hard, "... Goddamnit."

This would changed his normal daily life.

----------------------------

As the consequence of accidentally helping Garou, Badd must hide his existence from the Research Organization. So, after arrived back to the Earth, Badd must gives false-report for the base that their rescue mission was failed and only a few of team members were survived.

During that time, Garou made himself invisible but also could shapeshift into anyone for more advanced stealth tactics. Badd allowed Garou to live temporarily in his house, as long as Garou wont harming his beloved little sister Zenko and his cute cats.

At first, Garou forgot to shift into his human form in front of Zenko when Badd sneakily brought him into his house at late night. He didn't know Zenko was still awake at that hour because she was waiting for his comeback.

Badd wanted to smack himself after noticed Garou's big mistake, but after staring intensely at Garou for a full minute, Zenko just nonchalantly said,

"So you've got back from the space and you're bringing an alien boyfriend home? Hmm.. Not bad. Nice choice by the way, I always know your type, big bro", and she gives Badd thumbs up of approval.

Garou takes a liking on Zenko's bravery, maybe he could get along with her more easier later. On the other hand, despite his attempt at correcting Zenko that Garou isn't his alien boyfriend (yet), it makes Badd feels relieved that his little sister doesn't really mind of him bringing an extraterrestrial being as a new roommate in their house.

Garou spending most of his time at Badd's home by trying to learn human's behaviour and any other knickknack Earth-y things out of curiousity, that he slowly forgetting his original intentions and getting more interested on building a newfound relationship with Badd.

Badd also slowly growing fond of this charming alien, especially when Garou becomes more protective to him and his family, not to mention Garou actually learning humanity better than actual human. He was actually surprised that Garou had decided to develop a new "adaptive" form, in which a mix between his real form and human form, to help him communicate better with Badd while still maintaining most of his real appearance. Especially when it requires him speaking by human language more fluently.

Sometimes when Badd wasn't working or taking a day-off, they would spending time together at home and exchanged stories of their life. After Badd promised Garou that he wont tell any information to the higher up in the Organization, Garou explaining his life as a Warrior from his own planet, the secret history behind the invasion mission toward Earth and the super advanced technologies they owned compared with what human have currently.

It's kinda fun to have someone from another world to talk casually with, since Garou himself didn't have many close friends in his own troops. Not even to the old Elder warrior, Bang, who Garou regards as his adoptive father and his former trainer.

In return, Badd telling Garou about his favorite things, his childhood stories, his family including his late parents, everything about Zenko as he adores her so much, also about the reason why he took such adventurous yet dangerous job as Spaceman for the Research Organization. If Garou ever curious for some Earth-y stuff that he still didn't understand (as he called those things "outdated ancient stuff"), Badd will also explaining about them to him.

On special occasion, Badd would brings Garou and Zenko out to go shopping together or having fun on amusement park. He thinks it's good idea to take Garou with him and introducing many fun things humans usually do in daily life. It feels good to have a sense of having a full family again after he lost his own parents years ago. Besides, seeing how adorable Garou trying to enjoy human's entertaintments or bonding with Zenko was amusing.

To blending himself in public when they're going outside together, Garou usually shifted onto his "human-persona" so he wont attracts unwanted attention from people. But when he's around Badd's house, Garou just shifted back to his original form or his adaptive form since Badd loves it so much and wants Garou to be comfortable as himself at home.

Fortunately, it seems Badd's neighbourhood was inhabited by chill people. They never questioned further or suspicious about who Garou really is, especially after Zenko purposely introduced him as "her big brother's new boyfriend who just moved in from another city". Badd immediately blushed or flustered everytime they mentioned his "handsome boyfriend", as they also greet Garou warmly and saying that Badd was so lucky to have this gorgeous man as his lover.

Garou persistently asking Badd what is this "boyfriend" supposed to meant and why did Badd always deflecting his genuine questions while being all bright red faced with higher heart rate. Despite never got the answer, Garou likes to tease the cute little spaceman that he adores so much.

-----------------------------

After staying on Earth for months in Badd's home, Garou started to questioning himself.

Garou wondered if his original mission is really worthy or not, because in truth what he had said to Badd about the reason why he comes to Earth is not entirely true.

The real story was, Garou was just wanna visit the Earth for sportmanship and training himself to become the best hunter warrior. He was going to prove the Elites that he is worthy enough to get more superior rank that the one he currently is. That's why he also brought the Young Blood packs along with him to train them once they arrived on the Earth.

Until that accident happened because of a miscalculation: the Xenomorph alien larvaes that supposed to be used on humans, the supposed hosts, for initiation and hunting ritual were infesting his packs when they were still in the middle of their journey towards the Earth. Garou's plan was destroyed spectacularly, he lost all his pack members before he reached their destination. At least on the better side, because of that accident he could meet Badd along the way, so it feels not too bad.

On the other hand for personal fulfillment, he wanted to seek different challenges in another planets to polish his hunting skills and adding new experiences. So, the invasion plan was actually just his secondary mission, in fact it was actually just a bluffing. But it sounds like a more cooler way to threatened Badd back then. 

Not that he ever cares about human civilization and the entire human population in Earth, as he remains indifferent for them and regards them as mere weak prey for hunting sport. But he found out this one particular human is very fascinating to him: Badd. The more he interacted with Badd, the more he gets attached.

Not to mention lately Garou sensed something wrong with himself that only occured everytime they spend time or hanging out together, like there's warm feeling in his chest or sudden protective instinct whenever he is near Badd.

And while Garou considers humans are ugly, for some unknown reason he thinks Badd, in human's expressive language, is "beautiful". Inside his fierce hot-headed appearance, Badd has the kindness and all the sweet personality package in his heart. Which is total opposite with Garou, who is ruthless and cunning. Those contrasts has really melted Garou's own cold heart, surprised that he could managed to find such special human being.

Badd was supposed to be his prey, not a companion. If only Badd were born as the same kind like him, without doubt Garou was 100% sure Badd would be a perfect Warrior partner to fight along with, as he had already seen Badd's remarkable strength as a human. Such the best dream-like scenario ever that will never happens to them, but still very good 'what-if' situation.

The moment Garou saw Badd could kill the Xenomorph aliens alongside him in a combat and capable to defend himself, he respects Badd so much. It made Garou wanted to initiate Badd as one of his kind, a honourable strong Warrior. Or taking Badd with him to train as his personal human Apprentice.

For his bravery and incredible fighting abilities, Garou presented Badd a gift as a sign of respect for him. It was one of his exotic Yautja warrior's weapon collections that he managed to bring along in last expedition: an unbreakable metal bat.

Garou thinks it suited Badd's brawler fighting style, and because the bat made from special metal from his planet it can't be destroyed with anything on Earth. Except if it was smeared with corrosive acidic Xenomorph alien's blood, it would slightly melt. Whoopsie. But anyways, still an honourable thoughtful gift! Garou hopes he can witness the day Badd will using the metal bat in a combat.

Maybe it's not really bad he prolonged his stay on Earth for the sake of Badd and Zenko, although just for a bit. Garou wanted to have more "connection" with Badd before he continued the original plan. He wanted to know more about this special human, always being near him and protected him.

At least before the old man Bang realizing Garou has been missing for awhile after last Xenomorph attack and doing some search party for him by sending reinforcement army towards the Earth. 

------------------------------

At the same time on his workplace at the Research Organization, Badd was contemplating his life decision.

Badd was thinking why should he still insisted to hide Garou's existence? He could just secretly reported the truth to the Organization behind his back, handed him to them as new research subject and thus ended the Earth's next possible threat.

But that's so wrong!

Just thinking about Garou being treated as a test subject like some lab guinea pig made Badd's blood boil. Not that they can ever catch Garou and managed to survive from him, though, as he knows how strong Garou is. Surely Garou is an extra-terresterial being, but in reality he's not so different from human. There's also alot things that separated him from another Alien species he had encountered before.

Garou has a good heart and moral despite being an asshole sometimes. He's super intelligent and quick to learning something new, willing to cooperate once they're bonded over mutually trust.

Speaking of morality, Garou has better grasp of humanity than most people. Although he is a ruthless warrior, he wont bringing harm to those who are already weak or sickly people, unarmed opponents, childrens, or females especially the pregnant ones. Those are basically the Yautja Clans' Warrior Rules, as they only do fair fights. Badd thinks Garou's own kind are very cultured people, that's cool.

One thing Badd didn't expect before was the fact Garou is kind of "nerdy guy". He thought Garou was a ruthless jock-type warrior who only likes hunting or chaotic things, but in reality he is just the biggest nerd Badd ever known. Garou has always been curious about anything he deemed interesting enough, like human's lifestyle, social classes, education, or even the cuisine. Currently Garou is obsessed with martial arts and his homemade food, also when they're going out together he always asked for buying some fast food preferably with Cola for the drink. Truly an example of alien with unique taste.

The more Garou learned from Badd and observing people around them, the more he understand what human and their "humanity" is, both good side and bad side. Garou said he considered himself on grey area. But he would try to be on the good side, just for Badd.

About Garou's appearance, Badd never got scared of Garou's real form. In fact, he finds Garou in his full warrior armory looks charming and kinda handsome. He had seen Garou in the middle of daily training to sharpen his instincts during his stay at home, surely Garou got a lots of cool fighting techniques and movements, both bare-handed or with weaponry. Truly showing a professional experienced Warrior skills. Or when Garou shifted into the adaptive form so he can spar with Badd more comfortably without really hurting him.

Not to mention his unusually bright golden irises when Garou stares intensely at him, the way Garou tilted his chin up with those long slender clawed hand, that teasing smug grin with those sharp teeth show-off, and those surprisingly soft slicked back spiky white hair..

Yeaah okay, Zenko was totally right about him being into monsters. Fortunately to Badd, she wont and never judges his taste on men.

And Garou is actually a very good friend.. Or maybe more, if only his feeling ever reciprocated. Badd wondered if he could asks Garou to just stay forever on Earth together with him.. 

------------------------------

Badd was just coming home early in the afternoon from the work, as he only finishing yesterday's home paperworks and delivering it to the office. Time to get some rest after working the whole night filling the mountain pile of papers, Zenko still in school at this hour anyways so he would take a brief nap before picking her up.

Strangely, the house was too quiet. He usually hear some noises from across the room, whether it was Garou watching some tv programs or news or movies, or sneaking around the kitchen as he attempted to raid Badd's fridge contents (nowadays he often found out all the meat stocks or even any of homecooking leftovers in his fridge vanished thanks to Garou's huge appetite).

Badd tried to calling for Garou and checking on his room upstairs but there still no sign of him. He guessed maybe Garou went to their sparring place in the woods, training by himself to polish his hunting skill. Or maybe Garou was lurking on city downtown again?

Badd wished it was the former, he doesn't want Garou to make some trouble with humans when Badd was not with him. Even if Garou indeed goes to town he hoped he just do sightseeing or observing people from afar. Whatever, Badd will take a nap while waiting for Garou.

Just as Badd started to sleep, he heard the bedroom window clicked open suddenly. He immediately jumped out of the bed and grabbing his metal bat, ready to whack anyone who dared to sneak into his house like this. Nothing on sight, though, until some invicible force putting down Badd's metal bat and revealing it was Garou in his "adaptive" form, who just deactivated his invisibility cloak after entering his room from the window.

"Yo Badd!", he grinned widely, happy for successfully surprising Badd again. 

"Oh for fuck's sake Garou, please just use the front door! I already gave you my spare key, right? What if someone sees you and thinks you're a robber- Forget that, you were in invisible mode nobody could ever see you anyways, Mr. Ninja Warrior". Badd flomped down on the bed again, feeling ridiculously tired by Garou's antic yet relieved that his favorite alien is back. "Where did you go?"

Garou sets his knapsack down while explaining his disappearance, "I was so bored doing nothing in your house and my instincts will slowly dulled if I don't practice my routines, so I sneak out to nearby forest hoping to get some good prey for hunting practice. But it seems like Earth's creatures are not challenging enough to become my prey. It's either too small, too tame, too weak, or too pitiful it can't satisfy my hunting urge".

Garou sat beside Badd on the bed and stared at him, "Why can't I fight your people? It would makes alot things more interesting..", he whispered the last sentence with a naughty shit-eating grin on his face.

Badd propped himself up from the bed to grab Garou's arm and pointing his index finger in front of Garou's face, "No, I wont allowed you to do that! No hunting on humans, not on my watch. If you want some fight you can spar with me like what we always do. I'll take you on in a fair fight. Was that still not enough?". Was I'm not enough for you, Badd left it unsaid. He frowned at the though of Garou not satisfied with his effort.

"Ugh, what a let down, I would love to add human skulls on my trophy room when I get back to my planet soon. But your wish is my command, Badd. I promise not doing that for your sake", Garou huffed and rolled his eyes, but his tone softened. "About our sparring, while yes we can still spar with eachother, it doesn't fullfil my hunger for hunt. That's different", he shifted closer to Badd and gazing deeply into his rich dark chocolate eyes.

He continued, "You're not a prey anymore and I hate to see you getting hurt everytime I went overboard in our fights. You're my human companion, I only wish to protect you. But thank you for letting me spar with you every week, it was really fun", Garou touched Badd's forehead, where an initiation mark as fellow Warrior was given by him after their first encounter. Then slowly he put his clawed hand on Badd's cheek, caressing the soft skin gently while looking at Badd with much tenderness.

Badd just averted his eyes from Garou's uncharacteristically tender gaze, face heating from blushing too much as his heart-rate spiked. Of course Garou would know he was flustered by his touching words, he could see it by his vision, by the way. Not that Badd hated to be treated like this, in fact he felt so happy that Garou considered him as a human companion, a "someone special" for Garou.

"Umm yeah you're welcome, then.. Don't worry I know you will never really hurt me. Besides, I'm a tough guy, y'know? I can totally revive through fighting spirit and have another go with you", Badd placed his own hand on top of Garou's, letting the charming alien caress his face more. It's very comforting he loves it when Garou showing some rare affection to him.

They enjoyed the heartwarming moment until suddenly Garou moved away from Badd, "Oh I just remember something! Wait here", he let go his touch on Badd as he rushed to get his knapsack on the floor, picking its content and shoved it in front of Badd's face. "Here I got this for you, accept it!".

It was a flower bouquet. A simple makeshift one, but what made Badd astounished was Garou's choice of flowers: all of them were rare exotic flowers, which only grows on mountain or on the deepest part in forest. All of the flowers were wrapped by a wide green leaf as replacement for plastic wrap ('is that a banana leaf??'), and tied together by a thin rope.

"Wow.. Thanks, Garou, these are very pretty ones", Badd carefully took the beautiful bouquet from Garou's hand, still mesmerized by the exotic colourful flowers. He cradled it close on his chest. "Where and how the hell you get these flowers? I didn't even know that they grow or ever existed around our sparring place??"

Garou scratched his head, "After I got bored by pitiful failed attempt of hunting and start heading back to your house, I saw one kind of wild flower plant growing at hidden small valley near our sparring place. I though you would like it so I took some then continued searching for more wild flowers in the middle of forest until on the top of hills. Worth it for a passing time aside from going hunting", he shrugged like it was no big deal.

"But why?? What's the real reason?", Badd was honestly baffled by Garou's whole effort to flatter him.

"I saw from TV or on the street when we were going outside that you humans like to giving and receiving flower present as, what is that, "courting attempt"? Also you always go 'Aww that was so sweet~" or swooning like a fool everytime you and Zenko watched that scenes in some sappy drama movies. I don't understand why humans feel an enjoyment from getting a reproductive part of plant. Is that something meaningful behind that?", Garou raised his non-existed eyebrows in honest wonderment.

Badd tried to answer him, "Well.. It was--".

Garou continued his rants, effectively cutting Badd's explanation, "On my planet everyone courting their companion with a head or remnants of deadly dangerous prey, showing how great their hunting skills are. The more kill count the better. While your people giving a flower bouquet, a plant, really? You humans are just weird", he was shaking his head.

"So.. You didn't deny that you were courting me, right? You realized what I like and tried to do it for me even though you didn't understand the meaning of it, so that you can make me happy. Was that true, Garou..?", Badd slowly connecting the dots and stated the conclusion to Garou. He clutched the flower bouquet tighter, as once again he feels warmth in his heart. Not expecting the ruthless alien warrior has a soft spot.

So this meant his feeling is reciprocated? Garou feels the same as him? 

"What-- I'm-- Okay, you're right I was! There you have it now. Happy? Damn, this still weird to say..", Garou awkwardly confessed to Badd, not sure what should he says next. If he were in human form at that time, Badd was sure he was flustered heavily.

"Mmhm..", Badd hummed in agreement, as he placed the pretty flower bouquet on the nightstand carefully. Then Badd clung his arms around Garou's neck and pulling him down together with him on the bed, so now Garou was on top of Badd.

"Whoaa what are you doing?!", Garou propped on his elbows not to crush Badd directly with his weight. He wanted to protest but stopped himself when he saw Badd smiling softly full of fondness at him.

From very close distance, Garou could see how Badd's eyes are twinkling and the pinkish blush on his cheeks made Badd looked more prettier than usual. Those are something that made Garou was at lost of words when he tried to describe how beautiful this human is. His own companion.

Without saying anything, Badd released his hold around Garou's neck. He was caressing Garou's jaws and then cupping his face gently, before pulling Garou down towards him to peck his forehead. Looking briefly at Garou's softened eyes, Badd smiling again then finally kissing his lips. It was a light kiss but also a lingering one.

After a minute that feels like eternity, Garou released himself from the kiss and asking Badd in a soft whisper, "What was that for?". Not with the tone of rejection but instead searching for confirmation.

Beside the "human's courting", Garou also had seen this kind of acts on TV dramas or in real life, where a couple of "lovers" touching their lips onto eachother's for the purpose of showing their affection. So, he wanted to know if Badd was also meant it.

"Do y'know, when someone accepting the other's courting attempt, they would hug or kiss them. To show how much they loved and appreciated the other. I was doing the same to you, Garou.. You don't understand how long I was waiting for this moment", the raven-haired human answered while caressing Garou's face, the adoring smile still haven't leaving his face.

"Huh, I guess this proved what Zenko told me weeks ago was right, you have the hots for monster guy", Garou was smirking in victory, glad he was the one who captured Badd's heart.

"Don't be such a bighead, you silly alien warrior", chuckled Badd while he ruffled Garou's spiky hair. "You were the one who fell so hard on me, as far as making me your companion, swore to protect me in the name of warrior honour and do the whole 'weird human courting' for me. While noone ever dared to do the same as you. Admit it, you're a dork".

"What did you say?! A dork?? How dare you--", Garou offended complaint was halted as he processed Badd's entire words. "Wait, you said noone ever trying to court you before? Why? You seems more than average people in appearance or attitude", he showed pure confused look to Badd.

Badd gladly took Garou's appreciation remark before answering, "Have you seen my temper? Or listening on my way of speech? Or knowing my habit on ditching someone for Zenko if I'm not very interested in them? Nobody could handle that, Garou. Maybe except you, you're the only one who ever wanted me..", he pulled Garou down again for more soft kisses.

Garou hummed in their kiss, "Hmm, then it was their loss. For not considering you an amazing person". He swept the wild strands of Badd's hair away from his forehead, peppering kisses on it gently. Garou has learned it from Badd and now he tried to do the same for him.

"Aww thank you, Garou. Besides, I like my man being tall, strong, dangerous, loyal, and have lots of adorable soft spots behind the whole cocky bravado", Badd purred in bliss from Garou's affection.

"Says the one who said he hates skyscraper-like tall man. Which was the truth, hmm, Short-stack?", Garou lifted one of his non-existed eyebrow in amusement. He likes to tease Badd with that endearment term.

"Sssh it was for the public, lemme have my preference in secret. And don't call me a Short-stack, say that once more I'll bash your head using your metal bat gift!", he pushed Garou aside then hit his sternum hard enough before closing his eyes and snuggling his head on Garou's chest.

Garou just let himself being pushed aside while chuckling, "Whoa okay Short-stack, I wont call you with that name again-- Badd?", he found his companion looked sleepy.

"Mmmh lemme take a nap for awhile, there's still 2 more hours before I have to pick Zenko up at her school. Please staaayyy with meee..", Badd slurred the last line from sleepiness, he curled his body against Garou's own big body, snuggled even more closer to him.

Garou just taking Badd into his embrace, made sure his human companion feels comfortable in his sleep. He caressed Badd's soft silky raven hair, "So, are we 'boyfriends' now?".

"Whut are you talkin' 'bout? I already introduced ya as mah 'boyfriend' to our neighbours, right? Always has been..", Badd tried to answer despite getting more sleepier.

"Oh right", Garou nodded at the memory. So Badd was really meant it that way? Glad to know.

Badd purring at Garou's caresses on his head, "Mmhm.. Love ya, Garou". After the unconsciously big declaration of love, he finally went to sleep, peaceful smile still plastered on his beautiful face.

Garou was at lost on words again. He heard the Love word and his mind just exploded. Badd loves him. The human loves him, an extraterrestrial being.

Thinking about it again, is that even allowed? To love someone from different world and different species? He wasn't sure if the Warrior code would let him taking a human as anything else outside as a prey, an apprentice, or a companion.

Honestly this is the first time Garou received a romantic love, not a friendly love or familial love. Because as a warrior who dedicated himself to be the best hunter, romance is not even listed on his priority list. He can't say for other fellow Elites who seek love interests by charmed them with their hunting abilities, but for himself Garou doesn't even interested on that thing back then.

But with Badd? How can he rejects his love, not when this special kind of human is compassionate, wonderful and not to mention worthy of his full respect. Badd is also the only human who doesn't cower in fear in front of him at their first meeting. Even as far telling him that he adores his soft side.

Him, a ruthless hunter, a "monster", was loved by a kindhearted human.

"... I love you, too, Badd."

Garou whispered it softly into Badd's ear, he embraced the sleeping boyfriend's body tighter before following him into the dreamland.

Both were smiling in their sleep.

-----------------------------

-Few months later-

There was another new exploration mission from the Research Organization to obtain alien egg or larvae samples from the same wrecked spaceship on the previous expedition, so they could studying and observing the newfound alien species.

The newest mission was successful as the researchers team bringing the samples with them and be able to come back with minimal casualty. Thus Badd didn't need to join because he is working in rescue team.

At first week, everything was okay according to the plan. It seems the autopsy of larvae samples was successful as the Organization researchers have gotten some new informations from it.

Until an unexpected accidents occured during the second week of research.

The alien eggs samples in the special laboratory room were suddenly hatched and bursting out the new "facehugger" larvaes. Some of the lab staff were infested by it, while the other larvae strays were killed on the spot to prevent any infestation happening on more victims. Therefore the research was cancelled and the lab staff who became its alive hosts were quarantined until further notice.

The higher-ups were tried to keep it down so nobody outside The Organization know about this accidents. All the scientists and other staff members also tirelessly forced themself to solve this emergency situations. They tried to save the victims who currently become the alien's host, as far as preparing extraction operation for them hopefully it will have successful result.

But just a few days after that incident happened, all of the matured embrios inside the alive hosts bursted out from their body when they were still in the middle of intensive body examinations. The victims were died immediately, leaving a bunch of terrifying creatures that emerged from the wounds and crawling out attacking people in the laboratory.

Everyone was shocked by those horrible gorey sight, some of them were panickly calling for help while the others trying to escape from the room but stopped by the juvenile aliens' quick attack. When the security team came to rescue, most people in the room were either already dead from fatal wounds or barely alive still struggling to avoid getting attacked by the creatures.

The team quickly eliminate the rest of juvenile aliens by shooting it all, ensuring it wont leave past the entrance door. After ensuring no more alive aliens detected, they immediately sent the survivors to the hospital while the dead ones were sent to the Organization's morgue.

By this horrifying incident, the Organization executives hold the emergency meeting on that day They discussing how to solve this unexpected catastrophe during the research, how they should tell to the victims' family about the incident, or if this research are really worth it with these casualties. The higher-ups commanded them to call or reaching everyone who were involved on the newest expeditition mission, to make sure if there is nobody else got infested among the crew members.

Someone reported that most of expedition members along with other spaceship passengers on that mission have gone missing for days, and a few of them were found dead at their home with the same wide gaping hole wound on their chest. Two recordings from CCTVs on one dead victim's home clearly showed 3-4 Xenomorph alien younglings that just born or bursted from the victim's body, crawling outside the house towards neighbourhood area.

From those reports and evidences, it was confirmed that the crew members who participated on the newest exploration mission actually contained alive Xenomorph larvaes before they landed back on Earth, and somehow the infestation itself couldn't be detected because it was still on very early stage at that time. By the calculation of every "chestburster" larvaes that would be born into juvenile Xenomorph aliens from the total 30 suspected victims, it could be up to 120 individuals. And one of the juvenile aliens could be the next Queen that will reproducing new batch of eggs on somewhere else right now.

The plan has failed. This accident has shaken the Research Organization to the core as they prepared for worst scenario: the Xenomorph alien has already reproduced and multiplied itself inside or outside the Organization building complex. Not to mention they haven't managed to supervise the suspected victims current whereabouts prior the incident. Thus, as for the first step action to prevent bigger fatalities happens, they alerted all of the Research Organization members.

At home, Badd got the emergency messages from his higher-ups as he also explaining Garou about what was happened at the moment, that there was infestation of Xenomorph aliens among the researchers in the Research Organization. The higher-ups already deployed all of their hunter squads towards several different locations based on victims' last sighting or their home address. The higher-ups also instructed him to join the hunter squad for outside building complex area or near the suburban area to search the rogue Xenomorph aliens or at least for any survived suspected victims.

Garou suggested that he will also doing the hunt with Badd as it's the Warrior's duty to banish those alien species' existence, as it was their main prey. He asked Badd to always stay near him during the hunt so he wont get hurt by those beasts. Garou promised Badd that he will protect him, no matter what. But he wont promised to do the same for the others, no guaranteed he will helped them. Mostly they will be on their own. 

Both had agreed to eachother, they set their own combat gears. Garou wore his warrior armor and brought all his hunting weapons. Badd also did his part, not forgetting to bring Garou's metal bat gift, he couldn't wait to finally trying it out to smash those aliens' head off. He strapped it on his backpack, shoving all of other combat equipments on his car trunk, then driving his car out along with Garou towards their destination.

Before they go to the mission location, Badd dropping Zenko first to their neighbour family house to make sure someone watching over her and keeping her safe during dangerous situation. Garou shifted into invisible stealthy mode on their way to the squad assembly point, secretly blending with the rest of Badd's hunter squad members.

They started to investigate the forest near the suburban area which was previously has been reported for most recent Xenomorph alien sighting.

----- ⭐To Be Continued⭐ -----

--------------------------------

Notes:

So I made this headcanon because I had a dream which was strangely similar like the movie's plot, although not exactly same. Still don't know why and how I got that kind of dream since I haven't watch the movie again for so long 😅

The dream was about where I was accidentally saving the Queen of Xenomorph who infested my friend and took control of her mind, then turned out I must ensured the Queen's next survival 😱😰

But the difference between my dream and this Batarou AU is that I met a Queen of Xenomorph alien, while in the AU story Badd met one of Yautja warriors as I've decided to make Garou as The Predator instead. I thought it would be cooler than him being a Xenomorph alien, lmao! ✌😁

Coincidentally, besides getting an inspiration from my own dream, this AU especially for Garou as Predator also inspired by the fact we getting his Awakened Monster form from Murata 😳✨

Combining both the ideas, his Murata-styled Monster form and the amazing Predator figure appearance, WHAM, we got badass concept of Predator Warrior Garou! 👏👏😤

By the way, because I've made Predator Garou and his entire clans can do some shapeshifting as the more advanced hunting skill, he has 3 forms in this story:

1. Original form:

Exactly like the Predator in the movie, but the differences are the hairstyle, body build, and the ability to speak human language. Instead of dreadlocks, his hair is swept-back long spiky white hair. His body is more on slender-built than buff as Garou is an agile-type warrior, but he is so much taller than his canon-self, approximally 200 cm, unless he was shapeshifting into another form. He can speak human language in original form, but a little bit difficult to do it because of his mouth's structure so whatever he spouted when he talks would sounds like either growling or hissing. 

It's Garou's default form when he was among his own kind. Showed this form the first time he met Badd in rescue ship to threatened him (but failed as Badd didn't afraid of him at all), or when he was facing off some Xenomorph aliens in combat during the research organization's incident catastrophe.

When Garou revealed himself in front of the Organization executives at the next part (spoiler!), he refused to show his true face as they aren't worthy enough to see it, unlike Badd and Zenko. Hence he only shifted into adaptive form at that moment before Badd comes to defend him.

2. Adaptive form:

After living together with Badd for months, he has adapted into a new hybrid form, a mix between his own original Yautja form and human form. The result is like Monster Garou in Murata's style! No more arthropod-like mandibles with tusks, but instead human-like jaws with rows of sharp teeth and fangs (just imagine it like Murata's Awakened Garou). His hair is just like his canon-self with the iconic long horns-like spiky white hair, but at some point Badd cuts his hair shorter for more easier maintenance, so it now looks like Awakened Garou with short hair-style.

Mostly Garou showed this adaptive form when he was around Badd and Zenko at home. He knows Badd likes it so much thus alot of teasing, so he decided to make this adaptive form as a new default appearance during his stay on Earth. More practical to use as he doesn't do much hunting at that time, also the new set of jaws makes him easier to communicate by human language with Badd without his tech-armor helmet mask.

In this form, Garou still in his super tall self even though the height can vary around 185-190 cm, depends on the situation, ex: sleeping as he's a big boy Badd's bed or couch wont fit, so he'd shrink a bit. Sometimes Garou and Badd would spar at their secret place in the middle of woods using this form.

Despite the adaptive form is not quite suitable for hunting strong prey like Xenomorph aliens, Garou prefers to use it whenever he was training with Badd. Also, he can kiss Badd while in this form. Actually even more easier when he was in human form, it's just Badd loves this form more. Don't kinkshame Badd, he is one of monsterfucker, lmao. 

3. Human form:

Because he has shapeshifting ability, Garou can create his "human persona" everytime he blends into human crowds, especially when Badd asked Garou to go outside with him, occasionally also along with Zenko. Exactly like Garou in canon, but now with short-hairstyle as Badd said it suits him more. Garou interpreted it as a way to say "You look more handsome" but denied profusely by Badd.

He still maintained his lean-muscled physique like his other forms, but Garou shrink his height down into 177 cm because not only being too tall would catch many attention from people (Garou: "It's not my fault you all humans are just so goddamned short!"), Badd hated it when he was being towered by his own "boyfriend" when they're walking together in public. Although Badd accepted his tall monstrous height when they're only with eachother.

Badd's neighbours were successfully charmed by this "camouflage" appearance, Garou in a very cocky way tried it on Badd but it seems Badd only tolerates Garou's human form. Honestly, Badd loves his adaptive form as it shows Garou's own will to connect more with Badd while still maintained personal aspects of himself. Badd also totally didn't mind his original form as it was Garou's true face, and to be shown the real Warrior's face behind the mask is a great honour for Badd.

-----------

I just remember that I've been in Batarou fandom for a whole year since January 2020, so you can think this headcanon AU as a new year gift and a thankful gift for the fandom 😆😚🎂🎁🎉🎊

Special thanks for:

🌸 @kaincuro​ and @the-goddessfighter​

Thank you so much for being huge inspirations! You guys introduced me about the beautiful side of Batarou ship via your awesome blogs and encourage me to also participating by sharing ideas to the fandom. Because of you, I managed to stay in this fandom for 1 year full despite 2020 being a hard year.

Thank you Cain, for being a wonderful person and providing us the Good Quality™ Batarou contents, both headcanons and arts! Whenever I'm on bad days and want to read Batarou stuff, I always go to your blog, it never fails to makes me feels alot better! Seeing your fluffy Batarou drawings and your amazing explanation on headcanon about them are absolute mood booster, it really helped me going through my hard days, seriously. So I wanna thank you from the deepest pit of my heart, because of you I could passed a difficult year more easier.

Please keep running your amazing blog, you're great and we love you! 😉👍❤🌸

Thank you Temperans-sama, for being one of greatest Batarou artists I've ever known in the OPM fandom and for your dedication on always working hard making many beautiful Batarou drawings to deliver to the fandom! Everything you've made are PERFECTION, really a God-tier artstyle. Not to mention your Batarou art always the Softest and Fluffiest! 😚👌💖💖

Thank you for kindheartedly willing to listening my super random headcanons or AUs, even as far liking it and drawing the illustrations for it, all of the arts are magnificent I'm so grateful for that AAAAA thank youuuu- *sobbing happily* 😭🙏💕💖 I feel so happy for being able to talk and sharing ideas with an incredible artist like you waaah THANK YOUUU!! Please accept my promised thankful gift for this year, I hope you like it 😚💕🎁♥

Biggest respect, support, and neverending love for you~ 😘❤💜💙💖💝💐👏

🌸 @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas​ and @guby1620​

You guys are such very good friends during my stay in the Batarou fandom throughout the year, thaaaank youuu! Both of you deserved the best! *hugs tightly and never let go*

Thank you Eir, for being one of the most talented Batarou fanfic writers and most supportive understanding friend! I feel blessed to ever know you through your first Batarou fic a year ago, I still remember being one of your first reviewer and we shared alot of new ideas or random stuff. Now you already become a multitalented artist on both as fic writer and art drawing I'm so proud of you! 👏👏😤✨

Also, thank you for writing so many Batarou fic gifts last year, all of them are my favorite stories until now I really appreciate them! Keep being awesome, Eir, and yes you have my endless supports~ 😉💖✨

Thank you Ruby, for being a very talented Batarou artist with the most loveliest artsyle and I really admired you for that! You always have fluffiest ideas for arts and I love your handsome Garou + adorably sweet Badd drawings. I always enjoyed our interactions whenever we talk about our HCs, you're very easygoing and fun person to talk with, also you always successfully cheer me up with your cutest Batarou art 😉👍💯✨

I should thank you for liking my AU stories, even making one of them into a Doujin THANK YOU SO MUCH I didn't expected you would included the Reincarnated Demon/Angel AU into your long project I feel both grateful and honoured AAAA THANKS A LOT! *died from happiness* 😭💞💖💝

Undying supports and greatest appreciation for youuu, Ruby! I will always waiting for your new creations 👏💝🌸🌻💐

🌸 @garous-nipple​

I wanna say thank you for being one of the most talented Garou-centric fanartists in the fandom, you're amazing and I always love seeing your progress on evolving your artstyle throughout the time. You have great drawing skill and trust me you have already on the path to become next Murata! May this year will becomes Garou year as his inevitable comeback in the manga is near, so you will get loads of new art inspirations 😤👍💯🌟

Thanks alot for always accepting my requests or art idea suggestions! You absolutely deserved all of the best appreciation for your hardworks, we the OPM fandom are loving you 😉👌💖

I hope you enjoyed Garou's "the Predator" concept design headcanon as a humble new year gift from me 😆💝🎁🎉

And lastly for special mention:

🌸 @himbo-in-limbo​

I know we haven't interacted yet, but knowing that you love both Garou and AvP after stumbling into your lovely blog, I've decided to include you, too! As someone who only saw AvP once and not too familiar with the story, I honestly kinda embarassed of myself and afraid if my headcanon wont makes any sense so I apologized if there's alot mistakes and inaccuracy in here or if it's too OOC, please forgive me 🙇💦

I realized it's not perfect but I hope you like my concept design of Garou being a Yautja! Also sorry for the Batarou hints I hope you wouldn't really mind about it 😅😉💕💝🎁

(btw, all of your OCs are fantastic and very thoughtful-made! ❤)

----------

Once again I'm so sorry if my writing sucks, I wanted to share the idea but I don't have good writing skill at all please forgive me.. 😭🙇

I hope I can continue for the second part which is also the last part, it's currently on 1/4 way of completion. I'm currently stuck on the action scene why does it so hard to write battle scenes heeeelpp! 😫💦

So please wait for me, yeah? Wish me luck I could finished the story 😅🙏

Thank you so much, we will see again on the final part! 💖

-Little1993lamb-

-------------------------------

Temperans:

Anon! Thank you very much for sharing another fantastic fic for this fandom! Sorry for taking time to post it here. You know? My vacation will be over soon and I'm getting ready for TuT school

I would like to have dreams as interesting as yours, I hardly dream anymore, and it is nice that you can capture an idea from that. Honestly I've been a bit off these days, I miss our guys a lot and the way the webcomic is unfolding really distresses me (I'm so scared for Badd X'C). But your fic lifts my spirits every time I read it! So I wanted to reward your hard work with a drawing. I really like H. R. Giger's art and I tried to give that vibe to my art (I tried X'D). Thank you anon for always being there to support the fandom unconditionally! I hope you have a better year and health! 😘❤💜💙💖💝

[tazmuir]

GET READY FOR...

SEABOUND! A LOCKED TOMB UNIVERSE SURVIVAL ADVENTURE AND HOUSE IDENTIFICATION TOOL

You and a couple of your friends, if you have any, are on a boat in the ocean. Why are you here? Is this even relevant in the universe? Who cares. This ocean’s purpose is to help you pick… your true House identity.

Luckily, on this magical survival journey you have the opportunity to pick items to help you. You may salvage five items of the fifteen I am about to list under the cut. These items will be the key to who you are, secretly, on the inside. You’re probably going to die, but at least you will know who you are, which has to be some kind of comfort, right

These items will score you points with one or more Houses. Once you have made your selection, read the guide, tally your points, and discover… Yourself!!!!

PICK YOUR TOP FIVE OUT OF...

A sack  of mandibles

A sack  of fresh human hands

A  rolled-up flag of the Cohort, soldiers of the blessed Necrolord Prime

Pen and  flimsy

A bottle  of 160 proof rum   

A  waterproof portrait of the Emperor, here portrayed as the Merciful Resurrector

An empty  bottle with a lid to seal it

An ancient flare gun of curious make

A book  of antiquated Ninth House prayers

A 25 litre container of BLOOD

A single  sharp rapier

A  shaving mirror

A case  of absolutely disgusting army rations, hard and bad

A case  of extremely glamorous luxe rations, but poisoned

A  tinier, leakier fold-out raft, with a dubious motor

What’s that, you want it in image format??? 

WRITE YOUR TOP FIVE DOWN...........

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

It may be helpful to organise a tally sheet, like so.....

Don’t scroll down until you have made your choices...

No peeking past this point....

I mean it..............

DO NOT LOOK BELOW UNTIL YOU HAVE SETTLED YOUR CHOICES, UNLESS YOU ARE A HUGE CHEATER, IN WHICH CASE GIVE YOURSELF AN EXTRA +10 THIRD HOUSE POINTS

*****************

ITEM GUIDE

*****************

A SACK OF OLD OSSICLES

+15 Ninth House points

Only a Ninth House necromancer would want this. Not even a bone necromancer would look in joy on a sack of ossicles. If it was a more useful bone or even a fresher bone, sure, or let’s say a whole skeleton, that would be arguably useful, but in the hands of most bone adepts the ossicle is simply an ossicle. You’re from the Ninth House if you ranked this highly, which means odds are good that you are 90+ and have kidney and bladder problems.

A SACK OF FRESH HUMAN HANDS

+10 Third House points +7 Seventh House points +6 Second House points +5 Third House points +5 Fourth House points +5 Fifth House points +5 Sixth House points +5 Ninth House points

Fresh human hands are generally useful. Fresh flesh (say that five times fast) will carry a goodly amount of thanergy (death energy) and thalergy (life energy), which in the hands of a necromancer might be put to good purpose. Extra points to the Third and Seventh houses, places where you’re likely to find very talented flesh magicians; five points to the other houses as flesh magic is quite generally used, and if not, there’s a whole articulating hand in there for the bone magicians. The Ninth House don’t rate this quite as highly as the sack of ossicles because you have to get the flesh off first. The Eighth House does not want your sack of fresh human hands.

The Second House gets an extra point because we could always eat those hands. We’ve eaten worse.

A ROLLED-UP FLAG OF THE COHORT, SOLDIERS OF THE BLESSED NECROLORD PRIME

+15 Second House points +5 Seventh House points +1 point for every other House

Only a Second House denizen would think this was a must-have. It doesn’t even have a pole. You can’t fly it. You can just look at it and think patriotic thoughts about the Cohort. The only reason you get +1 from any other House is because you could maybe use it as shade. The Seventh House scores a cool five points off this one because it would be a very Seventh House thought to be found dead and draped in the Cohort flag. Symbolic… aesthetic…. Raw

PEN AND FLIMSY

+15 Sixth House points +10 Fifth House points +10 Seventh House points +10 Eighth House points

Reaching for the pen and flimsy first is a very Sixth House thing to do, because you’re going to immediately try to form a committee, have a huge argument, split off on your own and do some kind of brainstorm of ideas, then maybe you’re going to write down a bunch of bullshit equations and jot notes on the back about ways in which this might contribute to your research. The Fifth House also may well reach for this, but it’s to write down everyone on the boat’s memoirs, and perhaps a group letter expressing regret at what a bish they’ve made of it and perhaps a small measure of buttoned-up, restrained feeling for their lovers back home.

The Seventh House have written a single, very beautiful and oblique sentence about the water. The Eighth House have written down a list of any moral crimes committed on the boat.

A BOTTLE OF 160 PROOF RUM

+15 Third House points +5 Fourth House points +1 Second House points

CUP OF ACE, CUP OF GOOSE, CUP OF CRIS

The good Third House citizen has resigned themselves to death, but to not go gentle into that good night. The Fourth House thinks they could light this on fire, or something? Who knows

The Second House citizen will surprise you by doing a generous shot of this before everyone starts playing Mercy Stab The Weakest Members Of The Boat So They Won’t Have To Suffer.

A WATERPROOF PORTRAIT OF THE EMPEROR

+15 Eighth House points +5 Seventh House points +5 Ninth House points

The Eighth House citizen will pray at this grimly until they die. The Ninth House citizen will also do a certain amount of praying at this grimly until they die, but get less points because they’ll also be praying to other things.

The Seventh House citizen may hope to drape the Cohort flag over one of their dead bodies, and this to be held by another, and then they’ve got a tableau so symbolic that their rescuers will set it up as an art installation.

AN EMPTY BOTTLE WITH A LID TO SEAL IT

+9 Sixth House points +9 Fifth House points +9 Eighth House points

There’s no water around, so what are you going to do with this EXCEPT use it to put your rolled-up memoirs, thought crimes, or the useful rebuttal to that one article you just thought up and hope someone will rescue and publish?

AN ANTIQUE FLARE GUN OF CURIOUS MAKE

+15 Fourth House points +5 Fifth House points +5 Sixth House points

This thing will blow your head off. It’s a gun. Don’t – don’t fucking fire it here (NOISE OF BODY PARTS HITTING WATER)

It is intensely Fourth House to take an unbelievably dangerous piece of kit you barely understand and bravely fire it in the hope of getting rescued. It is also intensely Fifth and Sixth house just to keep a museum piece around so you can look at it and admire it. How interesting our antecedents were, to be sure

A BOOK OF ANTIQUATED NINTH HOUSE PRAYERS

+15 Ninth House points +5 Sixth House points +5 Seventh House points +1 Fifth House points ‘Nuff said.

The other points reflects different desperations in the Sixth and Fifth houses are for reading material, and the Seventh House might add this to the tableau as an Enigma.

A TWENTY-FIVE LITRE CONTAINER OF BLOOD!!!!

+9 Fifth House points

Nobody wants this and very few people are talented enough to separate the toxic iron stew from some drinkable plasma, or something. The Fifth House in its boundless optimism may take this thinking they might call a ghost, but otherwise, yuk

A SINGLE SHARP RAPIER

+10 Second House points +9 Fourth House points +9 Seventh House points +2 Third House points

The Second House knows that the death of a colleague neatly stabbing you is better than a death by drowning. The Fourth House is going to fuck up an octopus. The Seventh House is going to have it present, centrally, on the boat, and cast down glances through their eyelashes at it but otherwise never mention its presence, tortured. The Third House just wants a sword for the delicious drama. Delicious, delicious drama

A SHAVING MIRROR

+6 Fourth House points +2 Third House points

A mirror can reflect the sun, generating up to seven million candlepower in light. A mirror would be a very Fourth House idea: something that sounds unrealistic and stupid on first blush, but turns out to be a one in a million incredible idea that may even save your life.

The Third House just want to check their mascara, and also see over their shoulder before one of their boat colleagues sticks the single sharp rapier inside them. Drama

A CASE OF ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTING ARMY RATIONS, HARD AND BAD

+9 Second House points +1 to every other House

We can’t fault you for practicality.

A CASE OF EXTREMELY GLAMOROUS LUXE RATIONS, BUT POISONED

+8 Third House points +5 Eighth House points

Fuck this noise and pass me the caviar, darling

The Eighth House are also ready to receive the poison, but they will try their damndest not to enjoy it.

A TINIER, LEAKIER FOLD-OUT RAFT, WITH A DUBIOUS MOTOR

+5 Fourth House points

This is not going to get you five yards on a free ticket, which is why hopping into it and getting that dusty, wheezy motor going, then sailing for help as the rest of the boat watches you sink into the ocean and get snapped up by a giant undead squid is the most Fourth House thing you could’ve done.

  **************

FAQ

**************

 WHAT DO I DO IN CASE OF A TIE?

Pick the House descriptor most like yourself, or most like the person you secretly wish you were, or with the colours you like best.

WHAT DO I DO IF I DON’T LIKE THE ANSWER?

We all have to live with pain. I have gotten sorted into Slytherin House every Sorting test I have ever taken. This is not correct. I am a muggle, and demand to be treated as such.

BUT I REALLY HATE MY ANSWER.

Then you’re a Firebender. Everyone loves being a Firebender.

CAN I BE IN THE FIRST HOUSE?

No, you cursed grandpa.

ARE YOUR HOUSES REALLY MADE UP OF NARROW STEREOTYPES?

No. You are just as likely to find a party-loving Second House member as you are to find a Fourth House deep thinker who always looks before they leap. These are simply the crude crystallizations, such as those used for soap operas and toothpaste advertisements.

SOMETHING ELSE?

Whatever your problem, you can always make up your own House, with the rider that you would have to make it up as though you were ten years old and were basing it heavily around whatever you were into at the time, which would mean that my House would be inspired entirely by the Warcraft II: Tides of Darkness manual

  **************

COUNT UP YOUR POINTS, DIVINE YOUR HOUSE, AND THEN…

Congratulations, dullard/poser/fool/stodge/nerd/drip/zealot/weirdo! You’re in the Second/Third/Fourth/Fifth/Sixth/Seventh/Eighth/Ninth House!!!

[dicedungeons-and-dragons]

Scales

Note: As most of you know my campaign has well as truly taken over my life and I’ve been writing little (and not so little) stories based around it. And I’ve decided to post them from time to time, they’re going to be tagged ‘cotd fics’ if you want to blacklist them, I’m also sticking them under a ‘read more’ but I know they glitch a lot so sorry if it doesn’t take. Here’s a little one because I’ve been plagued by the fact that dragon bloodline sorcerers canonically have scales. 

His mother noticed when he was five. 

She found little patches of pebbled skin on his shoulders, along his elbows and knees, and running along his spine. The skin wasn’t red, or itchy, or like any rash she’d seen but she’d been worried and taken him to the local physician anyway. The older man hadn’t known what to make of the tough little bumps either and had given them a special lotion. Waylan got in the habit of putting it on the patches every night and morning, but the pebbled skin never went away. 

***

His father takes notice of it when he’s nine. 

His mother has been dead for eleven months and things are different now. There’s no more music constantly drifting through their home, his father works longer hours, and Waylan is silently expected to care for himself. The expectation is distant. His father doesn’t call him a burden, doesn’t scoff or roll his eyes when he asks for something, but he makes a point of showing Waylan how things are done in the house and where things are so that he doesn’t have to ask for them again. So Waylan learns how to make and tend fires around the house, for warmth and cooking, how to do his laundry, and eventually, where the first-aid kit is. 

He burns his hand on the fire poker, not having realized that he’d left it resting too close to the roaring flame he’d brought to life. His father heard his scream from across the house and he’d come running. The sharp red line already had two blisters bubbling up inside of it and his father had picked him up and taken him straight to the bathroom, setting him on the edge of the tub before rooting around in the small dresser that sat beside the door. He’d put a thick cream on the raw skin, wrapped it, and warned Waylan to be more careful. 

When he’d taken the bandages off a few days later the blisters were gone, but a distinct line of that pebbled skin had risen in their place. 

***

Waylan figures it out when he’s fourteen. 

After his hands catch fire, after he can suddenly hold a piece of wire and talk to someone over a hundred feet away, after he realizes he has magic. And once he realizes it he starts to research, finding scant moments to slip away from his father when they’re in Creta so that he can buy as many books as his bag can hold about the arcane. And when they’re home he reads. He learns about the different sources people have for their abilities. There are people who use words and songs to pull their magic from the strings of the universe, people who through their own means and study are able to learn the craft like a science, people who draw power from the natural world, and people who are just born with arcane magic. Though his mother had taught him to play piano when he was still little he doubts his fumblings there are the source of the fire he can feel burning under his skin. So he figures he must have just been born like this. 

And there are plenty of records of other born sorcerers. There are some who can’t contain their magic and strange, sometimes destructive, things happen around them. But he understands what Sabroth and Dojhan say when they speak draconic and he’s never been taught. And he thinks that maybe he should be more surprised to find out that there’s dragon blood somewhere in his family line. But he’s more relieved just to find some answers. He reads the chapter on mages with dragon blood four times that night. And when he goes to bed he traces his fingers lightly over the raised rough skin along his shoulders and the backs of his forearms. 

Scales. Thin and flesh colored, not the metallic (or dare he think, chromatic) color of his ancestor, but another remnant of them. Something left behind to protect him. 

He stops using the strange lotions from his childhood. 

***

Gadreel doesn’t notice them until after they start to date. 

That’s not a surprise really. The protective patches blend in with his skin, they’re pretty nondescript until they’re felt. Gad’s fingers twitch where they’re curled around his hips, his calloused fingers taking note of the unexpected tough texture. 

“Scales,” Waylan mutters against his throat. He wants to try and press himself closer into Gad’s lap, but he’s still unsure and off balance. The stump of his arm aches and it would really kill the mood if he fell over because he couldn’t catch himself. 

“Scales?” 

“Dragon blood.” He says in draconic, nipping sharply along the edge of his jaw. He taught Gadreel the tongue he’d been given by birthright. “Now fuck me.” Waylan adds in the orcish Gad had taught him. 

He doesn’t comment on the patches of scales he finds as he runs his hands along the rest of his body. 

***

Ray finds out shortly after. 

She is their resident healer, though both Lugh and Vani can make due in a pinch, and he is the resident torture victim. He’s got a lot of healing to do. Ray chatters away at him when he seeks her out to take a look at his arm. She healed a lot of the damaged, closed the bone over the marrow and stopped the bleeding when they’d found him. But the damage to the muscles and nerves required a check-up. So he lets her chatter and waits patiently as she finishes unwrapping the bandages to get a better look. 

“Oh,” he doesn’t look at her or at the rough stump of his arm. His stomach twists and sinks. That wasn’t a bad sound necessarily, but he doesn’t like the idea that she’s surprised by some new development with the injury. “Does this always happen when you’re hurt?” Teeth clenched, he finally glances down at the stump. 

The scales are thicker, thicker then he’s ever seen them anywhere on his body, almost as defined as Dojhan’s. They’re an unhappy, flushed raw color where they’re swelling around the stitches Ray’s supposed to be removing. 

“Never been hurt like this before.” He grunts in response. Ray mulls that over for a second. He wonders what inane thing she’ll come up with this time and half wants to yank away from her touch. He’s not half bad with a medical kit himself, he could probably take care of this on his own the slow way. 

But instead Ray just says, “Tell me if anything hurts.” And starts trimming away the black thread. When she checks the bandages on his chest as well they find a similar line of rough thick scales. 

***

He notices after a few more months of traveling with the party that the scales don’t go back to the way they were before. 

The ones around the stump of his left arm are still thick and rigid, a protective insulation against the potential discomfort of his mechanical prosthetic when he manages to procure one. As are the ones tracing the wound left by Gadreel’s axe. But he starts to notice the scales growing thicker in other places. Along his other arm, down the front of his chest and thighs, spider webbing out from the slash the Crimson Sign left across the hollow of his throat. The more they fight, the more his magic grows, the more scales he feels on his skin. They’re still invisible save for the pink tinged ones that line his scars, but Waylan can’t help but note the changes. 

The scales are for protection and the gods know he could use as much as he can get traveling with this lot. And when he leaves them, leaves Gadreel, only a few days after the winter solstice to travel to one of the most isolated and dangerous places in the world, he's grateful to carry that protection on his skin.

***

He tells Corzaren. 

They’re in the ruined castle, and after weeks he’s finally persuaded the undead creature to remove his armor. Seeing what two hundred years of decay has done to the knight is strange, but in a different way than he’d expected it to be. Waylan had known that Corzaren would be nightmarish. But the skeleton in front of him with red coal bright pinpricks of light burning in its eye sockets isn’t frightening really. Though he wonders if he’d feel differently if he didn’t know Corzaren as well as he does. 

“Can I?” He raises his flesh hand. 

“Of course.” Corzaren leans forward, still far taller than him even without his thick armored boots and helmet, and lets Waylan carefully cup his fingers over the bones of his face. It is strange to see the mandible part and hear the words slip out with no assistance from lips or tongue. The bones are rough under his fingers and the heavy thrum of necrotic energy that keeps the knight’s soul bound and animating his corpse makes Waylan’s hand start to go cold and numb after a few moments. 

“Can you feel this?” He asks, drops his fingers down to the creature’s neck so he can carefully touch the interlocking pieces of his spine. 

“Vaguely. I mostly note the pressure. I imagine I feel your touch as much as you can feel this.” He reaches out and runs his fingers along the metal arm. And the magic and machinery that keep the prosthetic going does transmit some of that sensation to him. Mainly a whisper of pressure, and a slight twinge that he suspects is the arm’s magic reacting to Corzaren’s necrotic energies. But no registration of texture or temperature. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“I am content being as close to you as I am able.” That makes his heart do a funny thing behind his ribs so Waylan just settles for tracing careful fingers along the thin bones of Corzaren’s instead. They feel brittle, like even he could break them without much effort, but when he does press a little more roughly he finds them solid as steel under his hand. Corzaren doesn’t even acknowledge the attempt, and to be honest Waylan wouldn’t have even tried if he thought for a second he’d actually do the other man harm. 

When Corzaren’s touch moves from his prosthetic to his cheek he doesn’t say anything, just leans in to the touch slightly as he continues his inspection of the knight’s skeleton. There’s no flesh left on him, and Waylan’s a little grateful for that. He thinks this would be a lot more unpleasant if Cor looked like some of the bodies mouldering away on the lawn. Instead the old bones are clean, and scarred. A deep gouge in his rib here, a nick along his vertebrae there, and notably a crack, long and thin a few centimeters from his sternum on the left side of his ribcage. When Way’s fingers hesitate there Corzaren says, 

“When Westly finished the ritual he asked me to fall on his blade. He was too far gone to sever his own soul from his body, but if I was willing then he could sever mine. Spare me the fate that was coming for everyone in the castle.” 

“And avenge him and his mother?” 

“No, Westly was a kind man, I don’t think revenge would have ever crossed his mind.” 

Waylan doesn’t say anything when Crozaren’s fingers drop to his throat. He’s not wearing his necklace, and the pale pink scar smiles along his throat. “Same person who did almost all the rest of it.” Is all he offers in explanation. He hasn’t told Corzaren about the Sign yet. He’ll get around to it eventually. He doesn’t flinch as the thin bones run over the scar, but they make a loud rough sound in the quiet room despite the soft touch. The undead creature pauses and then does it again, as if he doesn’t know quite what to make of the discordant and unfamiliar sound. “I grow scales over my deepest scars.” 

“Were you anyone else I would think that was a metaphor.” 

“Good thing I’m not then.”

***

Terran knows he has scales after the first five minutes they speak. 

Which is fair, he supposes, considering the man is a real dragon and an old one at that. He’s been around long enough to have seen other sorcerers. 

(“Do you have any kids?” He asked one day when the thought crossed his mind. 

“Absolutely not.” The other had replied with such an air of disgust Waylan couldn’t be sure it wasn’t intentionally exaggerated as a joke. “I have far more important things to do than contend with offspring or run around spreading my seed like a base animal, unlike some.”) 

Waylan doesn’t realize how nice it is not to have to explain himself until he suddenly doesn’t have to. When they start sleeping together and Terran’s hands find the patch of scales running along his sternum, Waylan's mouth automatically opens to speak. But Terran doesn’t hesitate, just scrapes the whisper of claws between the interlocking pattern before continuing on. He doesn’t even blink. And the thing is Waylan never thought he was particularly self-conscious about the patches, but having them treated as if they are no more interesting than any other piece of skin loosens a coil of tension that he hadn’t even realized was taut in him. Terran neither pays them special attention nor ignores them. And that bland acceptance is something Waylan didn’t even know he wanted. 

Over the course of the next few months that treatment has Waylan not thinking about them as if they’re anything strange or special either. It’s just his skin. Not his skin and the patches of scales. It’s all just him, and it’s no more worth acknowledgement than his eyelashes or fingernails. 

So maybe that’s why he’s so confused when Terran starts muttering, voice low and angry, one rare sunny afternoon as they’re laying tangled in a pile of furs together. He feels the dragon’s fingers on his spine, pressing and pulling at his skin, it’s not painful, but the skin is still tight. The draconic letters he’d had Terran carve into his skin finished healing a few weeks ago, but it’s still tender. 

“What’s got your tail in a twist?” He mumbles into the cradle of his flesh arm, reaching back with the metal one to push Terran’s probing fingers away. “If you wrote it wrong I’m going to kill you.” 

“Oh no pet, it’s worse than branding you incorrectly.” He hisses, smacking Waylan’s hand away in response and putting his fingers back on his skin. “You’re marked correctly, and I’m afraid I’m debating the merits of killing you.” 

A few months ago a statement like that would have actually frightened him. Now, “If you’re going to break up with me at least wait until Corzaren comes back so he can sooth my heartbreak.” 

Terran swats him on the ass. “I’m being quite serious, brat.” 

“Sure, why are you dumping me?” 

“Because your scales are coming in.” Terran half snarls. 

And that does give him pause. “My scales? You’ve already seen my scales.” 

“Not these,” to accentuate his point he grinds his thumbs along the inner curve of his shoulder blades. Waylan makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat, the scales there must have gotten more pronounced because Terran puts a fair amount of pressure when he touches them and they ache as he draws his hand back. 

“Ow.” 

“Suck it up I have bigger problems.” 

“You know what, you’re a jackass, I’m dumping you.” He makes precisely no move to extract himself from the furs and go find his scattered clothes. 

“Your wing plates are starting to grow.” Terran finally says. 

“What?” 

“They serve as a place for you to focus your magic and manifest your wings once you’re able to sustain that kind of power.” Waylan considers this for a moment. He knew that sorcerers like him could eventually learn how to create wings and fly, he didn’t know there would be a physical change to accompany the magical one. 

“Okay, so why are you mad?” 

“Because your skin is pink.” 

“Yes. Sorry I can’t be as sallow and pale as you.” 

Terran pinches the back of his neck this time and Way yelps. “You are my blood,” he hisses in draconic. “And we do not come in pink.” 

Ah. So that's it. “So you’re saying you won’t love me anymore if we clash colors?” 

“I should have known from your affinity with fire.” He laments. “But with your eyes and hair I had hoped. A metallic would be better than--” He lets out a string of curses, mostly in draconic, but Waylan thinks he hears the rough incomprehensible sounds of abyssal thrown in as well. 

“Would you rather I be green?” Like you. 

“That was never a possibility, pet,” Terran finally says, huffing out a sigh before pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. “You’re far too terrible at manipulation and subterfuge for starters.” He doesn’t bother taking it as an insult. “But really? Couldn’t you have been gold? Brass even?” 

“I can’t control my blood.” 

“Have you tried?” They’re quiet for a few minutes. And eventually Terran’s hands return to his shoulder blades and he runs his fingers over the scales again and again. 

“When do you think I’ll be able to fly?” Waylan finally asks. 

“I’m not sure, it’ll depend on how quickly you develop your gifts. But I think you’ll enjoy it.” He makes a soft sound of agreement in the back of his throat. “It will be torture to fly that slowly, but when you can perhaps I can teach you a thing or two.” 

“You’re going to still want to be seen with me if I am red?” 

“I suppose, and if I change my mind swatting you out of the sky will be a very efficient way of solving that problem.” Waylan huffs, but doesn’t say anything. After all, Terran doesn’t stop pressing soft reverent touches to the forming wing plates. 

He’s twenty-one when he learns he’s going to have true scales and the wings to match. And he’s greatly looking forward to showing them off. 

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Day 29 - Legacy

Summary: Sheapard and crew finally get to Archangel. Except... that’s not Omega, and he’s not Commander Shepard. Nor for the matter, is that Archangel. Hooray for TV magic?

---

To say it was hell there was putting it mildly.

“Hurry it up or he's gonna fucking shoot us too!”

Bo pushed him forward as they dove for new cover. All around them, it was chaos as all three merc packs converged on them. Every so often, a clear shot would take one out. One even hit him in the shoulder – thank you kinetic shields, for keeping his arm on. They were moving closer to the stairs, to their goal.

To Archangel.

The last push up the stairs was the hardest as he dove behind a partition and fired at a Blood Pack merc. They groaned, and then went down when Bo shot them again. One more remained, and he was soon put down by their guns. All they had to do now was head in.

He was in first, pounding on the door. Once it opened, they were in the sniper's nest. There he was, in blue armor with a modified rifle. Archangel only paused to aim once before he fired and a man went silent below.

Then there was the quiet as they got a break between waves.

Their small group faced him. He got up, and then his helmet was down on his seat. The harsh lights reflected off his carapace and the blue tattoos that matched the armor. His mandibles were twitching, like he couldn't believe it.

“Shepard.”

Garrus.

“I thought you were dead.”

The glowing implants embedded in his face were proof of that. Still, his heart pounded as he approached the turian. There was still too much space between them – especially with the mercs coming.

“Garrus Vakarian?”

He chuckled weakly – they had hit a few times. “In the flesh, what's left of it.”

His mouth went dry. “What are you doing here?”

The turian shrugged. “Just killing mercs. Nice of you to join me, there's plenty to go around.”

Clearly – the next wave was going to be coming shortly. If they didn't act fast – he glanced over his shoulder to check. They weren't there yet. He had time, and with time came the chance to ask a few questions.

He had been dead, they were warranted.

“What are you doing on Omega?”

Another weak chuckle from Garrus as he shifted position. “I got fed up with...”

And then his face went blank. “Shit... line?”

“Cut!”

There he went again, forgetting his fucking lines. They were never going to get through this scene alive.

At least this time, the director called for a break so the mighty Archangel could get himself together. Only he was pretty sure the real Garrus would be able to get his lines right. He'd probably also carry the fucking rifle right too – a shot like that would take his head off.

And here he thought turians went through training...

Ok, so he wasn't actually Alistair Shepard either, and this wasn't Omega. Instead, his name was Alex and he was still on the Citadel. They had gone to Omega for planning, though – Aria had even given her input. How they had gotten it out of her, he didn't want to know. He didn't need to know either; all he had to do was act and remember where he had to shoot.

“Is that the third time today he fucked his lines up, or am I seeing shit?” Bo – actually named Beau, ironically enough – was eating something to get her energy back. “Doesn't he normally have a stick up his ass about that?”

Alex rolled both his eyes and his sore shoulders. Even though it was just prop armor, it was still fucking heavy. He had been working out, but clearly it wasn't enough yet. Maybe he needed to do a few more push-ups...

Ugh, he hated push-ups.

“Maybe he had another one night stand and forgot to learn his lines.” He shrugged. “It's no business of mine.”

Beau rolled her eyes. “It is if you ever want to get out of here. Maybe you can bash his reason out of him.”

Ah. So they were sending him in. Last he checked, he didn't have Alistair Shepard's ability to talk someone to death. Still, they had time. So he shrugged his shoulders as he headed off to give his costar the come to Jesus moment.

Though was it still called a come to Jesus moment if the person getting the talk came from a planet where Jesus wasn't a thing?

Alex was soon on his way, looking around the set of the popular historical drama Mass Effect. It wasn't the first show based on the Reaper War of 2185 and what came before it, but it was being touted as the most accurate thanks to relying on primary sources and journals from the participants. Why nobody had  read the journals before, he wasn't sure. Even before getting the role, he had practically memorized them.

Maybe it was the whole gay, transgender man saving the universe thing that had interested him. Wasn't like he was also gay or trans... oh wait, yeah, he was.

Well, whatever. He was in armor, and he was trying to hunt down a turian who didn't want to be found. Most of his costar's usual haunts were empty. So he was forced to keep going, wondering how uncomfortable the real N7 armor must have been to walk around in. His fake version was really starting to ride up a little in some crucial areas.

It was one of those “glad he didn't have testicles” times.

“Virius? Where are you, you couldn't have gotten far in 5 minutes!”

This set was empty. It was supposed to be Afterlife, but not even the asari playing Aria was lording over it. Instead, he found a turian sitting towards the back, half hidden in shadow. He too was still wearing uncomfortable armor – or at least it looked that way.

Turians just looked uncomfortable in general.

There was his costar. Normally, Macen Virius was the consummate professional bitching at him for every minor mistake. To say they hated each other was putting it mildly – the two couldn't stand each other on a good day. Every moment they weren't acting, they were sniping at each other. Maybe it was a difference in personalities, maybe the turian didn't like humans.

Either way, the feeling was mutual and he was a fucking bastard.

“I didn't ask to be followed, Jones.”

His voice was shaking. So was the rest of him for that matter. Alex cocked an eyebrow as he realized Macen was actually shaking the table he was in front of. Maybe if they had been friends he would've noticed and been worried.

Mostly he was just annoyed.

At least the couch stopped shaking when he added his weight to it. “Well, tough. For some reason people think a dye job and the fake implants give me Commander Shepard's gift of gab.”

“I'm here to inform them they missed the mark.” Macen's voice was a little stronger, though he was still shaking. “Here to gloat? I'll get it right when we start over, don't worry. Just remember to sound appropriately horny when you get there, it felt a little flat.”

That got Alex rolling his eyes. “Appropriately horny? Are we reading the same damn journals, Virius?”

“Yours may have been downplayed because Shepard was easily embarrassed.”

Yeah, and he doubted Garrus had written down 'Shepard wanted to get into my armor on sight' in his. The long-dead turian was a total sub, first off. Besides that, both of them were trying not to get killed by the merc alliance from hell. Even if they had been horny, there really hadn't been time to lay it out on the table.

Besides, Alistair had been dead for two years. Horny was definitely not one of his problems.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Virius.” Alex rolled his eyes as he brushed hair from his eyes. He hated the season 2 look, but it was what the records said. He was having bad flashbacks to older roles, ones he didn't like to think about. “So, do you have a vibrator in there or something to make you shake so much?”

Macen scoffed, but he didn't stop shaking. “I believe a vibrator as a tool is in your character description, not mine.”

His voice lowered. “Shit... it won't stop.”

Honestly, Alex was amazed he hadn't noticed earlier just how tense the turian looked. His talons were clenched so tightly over his prop greaves that it was a miracle he wasn't puncturing right through the lightweight metal. His voice was coming out higher too – the translator was struggling to keep up.

If he didn't know better... he'd swear Macen was nervous.

…

“Shit. This is really freaking you out, huh?”

The words came out before his brain really had time to think about it. Even Macen looked surprised that he had said it – that made two of them. Alex had to wonder if he had been temporarily possessed by the ghost of his role to make him say it. Nope, it had been his accent...

Shit.

“Why do you care?”

That got the human groaning. “Because you're shaking like a fucking leaf and it's not like you! Something about this scene is freaking you out and I want to make sure we don't have to keep redoing it, because I know we're both fucking uncomfortable in this damn armor.”

Seriously, he had one hell of a wedgie and he was pretty sure he had a blister forming in more than a few places.

Much to his surprise, Macen chuckled weakly. “Well at least you're honest. I can give you that, Jones. No bullshit here.”

He stood, leaning over the railing that overlooked the fake club. “Playing Archangel... it's a  really big deal. No one's really gotten him right over the years. He's either mad with power or lost with grief. They never get close to the mark and then suddenly it's thrown into my lap and they tell me good luck with it.”

His talons rasped against the metal as he twisted his hands uselessly. “If I mess up... I'm not doing one of Palaven's greatest heroes justice. Garrus' story deserves to be told the right way. And it scares the shit out of me to think I screw up and be one more fuck up in a long line of them.”

Briefly, Macen looked back. The look he gave almost knocked Alex back. To say he was desperate was putting it mildly. The turian was absolutely terrified as he felt the weight upon his carapace. No wonder he had been shaking so badly, it was a miracle he hadn't been crushed by it. Yet there he was, still in one piece.

…

“It's a heavy weight, getting it right.”

Alex joined him at the railing. He sighed, leaning forward. “I kind of get it... I mean, it's probably different playing Garrus... but Alistair's difficult too.”

Much to his surprise, Macen nodded. At least they could agree on that.

“Like... I'm playing one of the most famous transmen in human history. Somehow I have to pull it together and be the hero everyone expects. If I fuck up... shit, it's going to be nasty.”

Now he was starting to shake a little. “But... we both have to do it, don't we? We have to push through the anxiety and get it right. They gave us the job... so it's up to us to do it right. We have to bear the weight of history and make it look easy.”

He gripped the railing as tightly as he could. There, in that darkened set they both felt the weight pressing down on them. Though they were dressed for the part, neither probably felt anything like what they were supposed to portray.

But... he supposed that was the part of actors. They had to step into the role and do it right. After all, people had put faith in them. And there were countless people waiting for this scene and getting to see Archangel in action.

No pressure or anything.

“You know... maybe you have a little Shepard bullshit in you after all.”

Macen's voice was a little bit stronger as he straightened up. “Bear the weight of history, huh? What a human way to put it.”

Alex felt his cheeks color as he glanced to the side. “Excuse me for not knowing how a turian would refer to it.”

Another chuckle rang out through the dark room, but it didn't sound nervous. Nor for that matter was it particularly malicious. If he had to guess... maybe Macen sounded relieved? With turians, it was hard to tell. They had all that subvocal shit going on that he would never pick up.

But he had stopped shaking.

“You did your best, Jones. Nobody's ever going to come to you for a motivational speech, but you tried.”

There was that tone back. Yep, Macen was back to being an asshole. He was on the mend at last. Now maybe they could get back to wrapping this scene up. They had plenty of fight scenes to get through before Alex would enjoy him getting shot in the face. Oh... he was living for that moment right then as he stood up.

“You coming or what? Our break is almost over.”

Alex jogged to catch up, his shorter legs having to almost double to catch up to his turian costar. They shared a brief dirty look as they left Afterlife behind, heading back to where people were waiting for them.

“Also... thanks.”

Macen was gone before Alex could register what had happened – someone needed to touch up his makeup, his actual orange tattoos were starting to show under the blue face paint. He was left standing there, confused.

That... was weird.

Oh well. He returned to his original position, slamming his prop helmet back on for the reshoot. Beau was next to him, also setting up. Both got to watch as their turian costar moved up the stairs with the gait of a man on a mission. At least he was holding his gun right this time.

Good, someone told him.

“Whatever you did, it worked.” Beau had whispered that – the lights were dimming as things set back up for the big reveal. “Nice going.”

Sure... he wasn't sure what he had done, but why not?

Anyway, it didn't matter. In that matter of seconds, Alex had gotten himself back into Shepard's mindset as they started rolling. There were mercs in his way keeping him from Archangel, and he wasn't going to let him down.

Just one wave to go... and then the door would be safe to approach.

“And action!”

Time to become the guy who saved the universe again. No problem.

[crqstalite]

From the prompt list? I'm sending in something simple with will, hopefully, just go in any direction you want. And that's "Always." For whichever pairing you wish :)

posting this before i chicken out, because i’ve been at this for like eight hours already lol. trying my hand at a little shakarian [petrakarian, in this case], and there’s a sprinkle of happiness if you squint ;)

edit: i’ve also never written garrus before honestly. definitely tried my best but i’m sure there are mistakes in there somewhere. regardless, happy to provide.

pairing: brione petrakis/garrus vakarian. word count: 2,611

-

She's putting it off. Leaving, as it was.

Honestly, she doesn't know why. Her bags are all packed, her dress blues are pressed and folded on the cot next to her. Her datapad has been prepped to send all of her reports straight to Alliance Command. Yet she's left her comb in her duffel, hair decidedly unbrushed around her shoulders, still sitting in her fatigues and they're only an hour out from the Citadel. She could be in the crew quarters, going over any possible assignments they could give her. She could be trying to get another couple of winks in. Anything other than being here, and desperately hanging on to what felt like the last thing she had in the galaxy.

It would've been so much easier not to be here right now, but nothing in the last year had been easy. It's harder to force herself out, hell she's been sleeping in here for the last week or so.

The lights flicker just above her, the battery still stuttering in a way that frustrated Garrus to no end. Not that they had much need for it these days, but she'd offered to take a look at it. He'd been content to let her sit nearby. Talking about trivial things during the first few days after the suicide mission with some of her senses glossed over by pain meds, maybe more than a little wine in their systems. Then it waned into painful silence as they grew closer to the station, wine bottle empty and all sentiments aired. All the things she knows she can't say, all the things she wants to.

She rolls another bandage around her hand, pulling taut. It'd been her good hand too, a lucky shot taken by a Collector that had left her unable to snipe properly during the last leg of the base assault. Still bruised and trying it's hardest to bleed through. Mordin hadn't been there to do it properly, so it had been her, hearing gunshots against the barrier they'd set up, blood gushing from her hand with Garrus asking her if she was alright. Medi-gel spilling from her shaking hands, only being able to offer suppressing fire with her Carnifex before Shepard told them to retreat. Her wrist whined from the motion, and she barely catches a blue eye darting between her and the UI when she groans.

"Still bothering you?" His voice is softer than usual when she catches him in the act, hands stilling over the keyboard, "Chakwas should really take a look at that."

"She can once we're back in Alliance space," Brione haphazardly cuts off the end of it, tucking it under one of the other wraps. She tests a smile with the nearly healed scar on her lip, "Besides, you're the one who was apparently up and fighting with Shepard not even two days after you nearly died, Garrus."

Another beat of silence before he starts again, mandibles flaring as he sighs. Exasperated with her, maybe. He'd been bothering her about it for days now, usually asking how it was and if she needed anything, "We Turians are a bit hardier than our human counterparts," He gestures to the scarred side of his head, bandage recently removed. "Brione-"

"Don't." She lays the gauze down next to her, unable to meet his eyes. She doesn't want to think about the fact these are their last days together, the fact this could very well be the last time she hears him say her name. There wasn't much guaranteed after their non-human crewmembers stepped off the ship, nothing saying he had to stay with her, even over light years separating them, "I'll see Chakwas once, once everyone is gone. Shepard will have my head if I lose a hand before we get there anyway."

"You can't hide in here forever, Brione," Is all he says, giving her a concerned look but finishing his diagnostics on the console first, "No reason in putting it off."

This talk has been a week coming. He hesitates, unsure of himself while she tries to will the tears away, turning away from him. What was she, six? She could handle a suicide mission (which they'd all nearly died on), so why was saying goodbye, saying see you later, saying that she'd see him again soon so hard? She was a captain of the Alliance military, not a babbling schoolgirl with a crush.

Except, that's what it felt like, navigating a relationship with him. She'd downright giggled at something he'd told her.

Does he know just how much he means to her?

It wasn't as if extranet access would be blocked for her when she got back to Earth. By every law that Shepard had learned (and in turn exploited) surprisingly quickly, most of the human operatives aboard the SR-2 wouldn't be arrested under the same duress she would be. Brione could still send messages to Palaven, could still say hello every once and a while.

Hello wasn't the same as being able to sit in a comfortable silence with one at the console, the other completing her daily reports with her legs folded under her, hair tied up in a messy bun at the base of neck. Hello wasn't the same as finding leftovers from the dinner prepared earlier and pulling all-nighters just to spend some time together.

Brione wasn't sure when this had turned into more, when she had started to want more. When she couldn't think of a tomorrow without him. At first, she'd just entertained it as little more than a fling, if she was going to die at the end of the year, then she could cross a few things off her bucket list. And, he was a friend. They'd met a few years before the SR-1, a one off meeting during her shore leave. Then they'd been squadmates, fighting their way through waves and waves of Geth, two snipers snipping at each other for their aim. It boggled the mind that it'd been so quick after Alchera, that she started to discover little things about him when she had little else to do. The small visits about the battery that turned into hour long conversations once she'd rejoined the Normandy. One or the other venting about a minor problem or a large one they'd held onto for so long they'd made a joke of it.

He'd patiently listened when she recounted the dressing down she'd been given after Torfan and the therapy sessions she'd attended afterwards. That, she'd never told anyone about in detail. Hated reliving the day, but it slipped from her mouth so easily while she'd been sitting on the crates. Then she'd sipped on some sort of tea Shepard had picked up on the Citadel, listening to him about Sidonis, about his time on Omega in general. That by the time they were within range of the relay, she'd simply decided she didn't want to let go. That there wasn't anyone like him, that there was so much left that she still wanted. They'd spent the night on the cot he'd dragged in here sometime ago, and she'd never felt so alive.

Then they'd survived. And then there was a whole new life expanding before her, with the Reapers looming over them. But she'd lived, they'd lived, and now she wasn't sure what they were. It wasn't a fling anymore, but she didn't know where he fit into her life.

Whether he wanted to fit in her life. She's sure he could have just about anyone, and he hadn't seemed too upset, giving her the way out of asking whether she wanted something closer to home.

How did he become her home? It could've been anywhere else, on Earth, in London, on the Citadel. But instead, it was a certain Garrus Vakarian.

"This isn't -- it isn't the end, Brione, not if you don't want it to be," He holds a hand out to her, "If I know Shepard, and I'd assume I do, she'll get us back into the thick of it within a couple months. If that."

"That might be a little optimistic," She responds, toying with her hair for a moment before grasping his hand, pulling herself up off the cot to look at him properly. She gently holds a hand against the scarred side of his head, brushing the rough plates with her thumb, "I would've been rather stupid to think this would last forever, running into the sunset. I'm just glad we had what we did, Garrus."

He leans into her touch, his other arm snaking around her waist. Why did it have to be him that she'd become attached to? The first person that'd make her feel more like a living being than a cold blooded killer that remained a few seconds from death every time she stepped off the ship?

Why is he all she can think about these days?

"I," He pauses again, "I'll always just be a comm away. If that's what you want, of course."

"Always, hm?" She asks, "Don't know how timezones work from Earth to Palaven, but if you haven't noticed, I'm not much of sleeping person. You could lose a lot of it, talking to me. But you've never minded it before now, I guess."

"It'd be better than nothing." He responds, when she drops her hand and instead pulls him closer to her. Maybe it's not the most comfortable with him in armor, and her still regularly needing their dwindling supply of pain meds, but she just wants to feel something, anything. She can't go back to the way things were, alone, and cold in an alliance apartment with nothing but her next meal going for her.

"I don't want to leave you, Garrus," She admits, her voice cracking. Brione won't cry, she wills herself not to, even as the dam strains against them, "You, damn you, you're...everything."

"You're...lovely yourself, Brione. Not like I'm itching to leave either, not when everything's already going right for once," He responds, the words thrumming through what she thinks are Turian subvocals. If Turians even can whisper, she's pretty sure he is while gently running his hands through her hair, then trailing down her back, "But I'm not sure I look all that good in...what was it Shepard called it? 'Jumpsuit orange'? Not sure how friendly the Alliance would be to me either."

"Probably not very," She tries to laugh, tries to force anything out at all, but instead all she gets is a choking sound that she could compare to a varren. A rogue tear slips out anyway, and all she hopes for is that Garrus can't see it. Why is she falling apart? Why now? She has a million and three battles under her belt, and this is what shatters her? Not a shotgun, not a scion, but this.

She'd said goodbye to so many people before. To her various adoptive parents over the years, her old COs, even Alenko more recently. None of them destroyed her like this was.

Relationships. They're impossible. They're weaknesses and vulnerabilities that your enemies are just waiting to take advantage of. Even more if your's is a cross-species liaison, one that shouldn't have become everything that it was now.

Brione doesn't want to live without him.

She can't bring herself to say it out loud, so she doesn't. He holds her a little while longer, they don't say anything but reassuring the other all would be well. Or at least they try, and it dissolves until silence when there isn't anything to say but repeat themselves ten times over. They sit for a while after that, time whittling down all the while. Her hands fit a bit oddly in his, but she can't find herself wanting to let go all the while.

Shepard's voice comes over the comm with a timer on their arrival, and she has to pick up her things, fastening the last button on her jacket and throwing her duffel bag over her shoulder. Garrus offers her one last lingering forehead touch when they reach the airlock, and she kisses him softly, knowing if she stays any longer, she won't be able to leave.

But she does. She has to be able to.

She sees him off, the glint of his blue armor the last thing she sees. She thinks she's the perfect picture of someone who was trying (and inwardly failing) to stay afloat with a forced grin and a wave as he walks off. Brione doesn't care, as much as the crew teases her about calibrations in more than one capacity. A few get a smile out of her, but she feels numb the rest of the way to Earth.

Cold. It settles in like an all too familiar blanket. The chill of not really seeing the faces of the people around her, nor acknowledging what they had to say.

She slips back into her normal routines, after the hearing. Doesn't even realize it at first, but without her usual visits to someone who wasn't dolled up in Alliance blue, there's nothing to it. She's shuttled back to the Citadel after a month, sent to work with Udina. A liaison to Alliance and from the Council, is effectively her job description. It's like clockwork, sleep, work, find something to eat if she was feeling physically up to it, work until she couldn't, then reluctantly sleep again. Fix up her sniper rifle on the weekends, take it to a range to keep herself sharp.

There's no Turian on her six though. No one there to bother her that her shot is off just a few inches so that clips the outside of the target.

She sees his face in every single one that walks by until they all blur together. She hears his voice in every C-SEC officer that speaks to Udina, to her.

It isn't until two months later that she receives a mail on her comm. Right in the middle of another one of Udina's tirades about the lack of Council support and funding, she opens it like any other email she'd received before. Calculating, tired, she reads over the sender, the subject line and is halfway through scrolling through it when the glaze over her eyes recedes and she realizes just who it is. Her breath catches in her throat, taking her leave for the afternoon.

She finally gets a call after work that day. And just as suspected, it keeps her up all night. There's so much to say, so much that she hadn't known. Her new job, his new task force. And yet, he still seems so indescribably happy to see her. That her eyes are barely being held open to focus on him, but that he's here, as much as he can be.

"Sure you don't want to take back that offer of always being on the other end of the comm? Now that we've done it, I might get a taste for it," She says, yawning as she absentmindedly rubs an eye. Udina will give her shit for being there late in the morning (in a couple hours really), but she doesn't care.

"As long as you want me to be," He nods, "Well, hopefully you don't start calling me at the oddest hours of the night or in the middle of meetings, but always, yes."

"Hm. I'll file it under consideration," She perches her head on her palm, taking in every detail the vid would let her, "Always?"

"Always. Now get some sleep, Brione," His voice softens, mandibles flaring into a smile as her vision blurs, "Good night."

Five months after that, communication to Palaven goes dark. The Reapers attack, and she watches wide-eyed as they touch down in Earth.

And her always becomes an empty promise with every refugee she watches come in during the days afterwards.

Garrus is not among them.

[rainbowjay20]

So I am royally pissed.

RANTING FOLLOWS...

Yes, major shit is happening in the world. But real life is still happening. My doctor has been changing from one hospital affiliation to another. I had an appointment that I scheduled three months ago. No one called and told me anything with regards to time, location or new phone numbers. I drove up to an empty office with a sign. Not all the doctors are going with the person listed as my primary and my appointment was with one that was in a different office. The primary's (that is listed in my records) office kicked me out and said I didn't have an appointment without checking my name and they didn't know shit about what was going on, so they basically they kicked me out of the office because they could and they were utterly useless. No information, jack squat. I think they were done for the day and wanted to go home. The other office was closed. Neither phone number given worked and I'm out of my medication. I also have a sinus infection and need antibiotics and maybe some prednisone. My immune system is not doing well because I'm not getting my IVIG(which is another whole mess). My back is still messed up from where I sprained it before Christmas. I also have been having stomach issues and it's the reverse of my usual stomach issues. I also have a virtual visit scheduled with my Endocrinologist, after which she will need to know where to send my information. And I have two more specialists that I need to reschedule because I've been putting them off between Covid and me being sick. Did I mention my scripts need refills? I get appointments later in the day because of my issues.

I am not happy with this. I would have understood rescheduling my appointment. I would have understood a new office situation. But the girls in the one office were extremely rude and unhelpful. Also neither of the new phone numbers were working nor the old number which tells you to schedule an appointment with a different doctor. I used the old app(Epic) to request at the very least my refill and left a note on that system that I didn't get to the appointment and why.

The other thing that is pissing me off is that they knew this change was coming and they STILL SCHEDULED the appointment. Nowhere in the intervening THREE MONTHS did anyone try to get me to reschedule or tell me where I needed to go. And I was scheduled for a night appointment when they knew the hours of the new office could NOT accommodate this. (I am deducing this as my working theory. It appears to be the truth, although I won't know until I talk to someone, if I can find someone who knows their butt from a hole in the ground.)

The last time I had troubles like this, was my previous primary. In addition to screwing up messages from me to the doctor and vice versa, the little shit in the office stole a prescription of mine. They caught her red-handed. They should have called the cops. They did fire her ass.

I just didn't feel up to the paperwork involved.

I seem to attract people stealing pills. My last muscle relaxer script was short 4 pills. Since I didn't pick up the pills myself, the pharmacy basically said too bad, you lose. They were very generous*(this is sarcasm btw) in letting me refill my next script a few days early. I told them the next time I will go to the cops again. Mostly, they just go to the store quietly and examine the video tapes that the store makes, if they haven't gone to the server yet, then ask me and the store employees our side of the story, we write a statement and sign it. They don't really investigate it too much unless there is a superfluity of thefts.

Yes I am aware that I am speaking from a position of privilege. I have a doctor, insurance and enough money(most of the time) to pay co-pays and bills. I simply need to get the rant out now so I don't scream on the phone tomorrow. Catharsis is what I'm going for right now. Unfortunately, not a lot of these things have simple fixes. Or in some cases, they don't have any fix, forgoing a miracle.

These people that don't keep up with what is going on around them and are useless and are at the very least incompetent employees. If I was a boss and these people were my employees, they would be canned the minute I heard about them being rude to a customer/client and practically throwing them out the door/locking it behind them. Also neighborhood is not the best, even if they were clueless they should have made sure I had a way home or a way to get to a way home, i.e. offer to let me use the phone to call a ride/cab/uber/whatever.

I am aware I sound like a "Karen". I was taught that the first rule in any business is the customer is always right. I understand that they were at the end of a long day. I do get that. But also the employment marketplace and economy being as it, people should be eager to keep a job, because they are at least 20 people that need a job more then you at any moment. Never assume you have the worse problem in the world. There is ALWAYS someone in more dire straits then you. (Sometimes that helps. Although it can be hard to imagine, but trying is at least a distraction.)

Did I mention(no pills) I also had a dentist appointment this morning(well early afternoon) where I got two fillings fixed? Luckily, it wasn't too painful. The extended period of prolonged mandible contortions caused more pain than the dentistry.

The window in our car also broke. The cord that runs it snapped, as well as the electronic button panel went kaput. This is after we just put on two new tires and had various other repairs. The window panel costs about 400$ to repair. That's more than the car is worth almost.(Funny, not funny.) It's ten years old and beat to hell. Most likely we are going to need a new car. When I say car, I mean SUV/light truck.

In addition we have a few holes in the roof(including over the bathroom) that leak buckets of water when it rains. If it rains, we have to check the buckets so they don't overfill. We also just had to reseal the toliet(another $400) and replace the ceiling tiles below the bathroom. When we get the roof fixed eventually, the bathroom ceiling needs fixed($$$) plus the downstairs ceiling where the other leaks are. One is a popcorn ceiling.($$$)

I also was going to ask about the vaccine. Most likely I can't get it. I can't get flu shots because I'm allergic. I've also read that one of the vaccine is counterindicated for those with weak immune systems. The other possible problem is the thyroid cancer. Because of how the vaccine works, and the type of thyroid cancer I had, there may be issues. I've tried to find answers online but because my type of thyroid cancer is rare(well, both types) I don't think any studies were done on it.

When the imp of the perverse gets your number or Lady Luck(Luck be a Lady!) deserts you, you are SO SCREWED. Either that or the person who has the voodoo doll🔮 of me is getting creative(or bored) because they are in lockdown because of Covid. I wish who ever it is would stop. Or learn about karma...

Okay, rant out of my system. (Not really, but I can chill enough to try to get rid of the hiccups I just got. Did I mention I have blood pressure problems and stress induced asthma?)

Okay, now I really do think it's a little better.

Catharsis achieved.

[zora-moyashi]

<--- Prev    Next --->

ZM

template doesn't look comfortable. Chara grins back and the group goes to skull lagoon.

Core

The skull lagoon was a remote place, the beach had some driftwood and the water was something murky.

“Are you content?” Ink asked Template

ZM

he wonders if he should say or if ink would get mad. "i just don't want you to get hurt again."

tonic loved the look of this area and ran over to some drift wood pushing it over and finding some crabs. they play with them.

Core

“I won’t, I know to avoid the smaller one.” Ink said. Shatter was looking around, and Neon kept her distance from the water. Tonic could spot spines breach the water

ZM

tonic head shoots up as they watch the water intently going a bit closer. "so like. where are we supposed to go" chara says with her hands up. he's not convinced.

Core

“Not sure exactly...” Neon admitted. Something jumped out of the water and grabbed Tonic’s leg, snapping the bone in their jaws. Chara could recognize them as Corrupted Killer. Ink heard the water splashing. “Besides, we have a guard dog.”

ZM

tonic goes about knee depth and sticks their head under to see if they can see the creature it's dark but tonic is bio-luminescent. and is instantly grabbed by the leg like you said (i was already typing that haha) chara looks over just in time to see the corrupted killer. the water around where it bit through tonic's leg is stained black from nightmare's shell and a glass like substance floats to the top of all of that. template peeks around the vines and sees the fight happening.

Core

Nightmare’s shell acted like a shield, keeping any venom out. The Corrupted Star (pathogen) was trying to drag Tonic under water. Shatter immediately ran over, attacking Pathogen’s tail

ZM

tonic 's right leg was snapped off and shattered so they were no longer in pathogen's grip. they swim to the surface trying to process everything. chara joined shatter in the fight. jumping onto pathogen's back in front of shatter having a knife stuck into her helping her hold on.

Core

Shatter tore up Pathogen’s tail, not showing any mercy. Pathogen’s back had venomous spines on it

ZM

chara snapped off a few of the spines as they reminded her of lionfish spines she manages to put them in her pocket through all the thrashing.

Core

Shatter then went for the throat, making the water turn red with blood

ZM

chara assuming it was done swam up waiting for shatter.

Core

Shatter soon came up as well, licking the blood of her lips. “You ok Tonic?” She asked

ZM

tonic wasn't bleeding or anything as each segment of their body is mostly separately contained. but tonic was clearly unhappy. not even responding to shatter.

one of the crabs they were playing with crawled up onto their arm

Core

“Come on, at least talk to me.” Shatter said. 

( redesign of the template )

(he also has blades that come out of his back that work more like a shield than anything else)

ZM

 tonic stares at the spot where all the blood of the corrupted star was left and looks up at shatter not knowing what to say

Core

“Look, they were going to hurt you, I had to do something.” Shatter explained

ZM

tonic scoots over a tad so they're by shatter and they cling to her leg as they shake, maybe they're scared or sad but they can't really tell which it is.

Core

Shatter hugged him, whispering kind things.

ZM

 chara taps her foot in the sand. "pick your child up or something we need to find ink. now." she looks to killer and then starts climbing the ledge that leads to the mainland.

Neon found the groove, before the others.

ZM

template got out of the area to greet neon. "came back for more i see?" she says annoyed .

Core

“I’m not a fighter.” Neon said.

(What if, since Neon is basically an Ink with a soul, Template starts to like her?)

ZM

(all i can say to that is 'oh no' >:3 ) "hm." he looks down to where the others are trying to find them. "than take your friends and get out. i know you have no business being here."

as she doesn't respond template steps closer. "are you deaf? leave."

Core

(Ok?) “Well, I honestly think the score is settled, but Chara doesn’t.” Neon sighed

ZM

(template wouldn't be okay with that. he'd deny that he likes neon to the moon and back before leaving ink. that's how he is.) he shakes his head in disapproval and goes down to where chara is. chara stops in her tracks "ugh. you again." template responds with "you're the one pursuing ink. what else did you expect." "well gee, you were never around sense i've known her." he shrugs and goes invisible. chara takes a step back trying to find where he is and makes a green bubble to protect herself. a hit from the right slides the bubble and almost cracks it

Core

(Ok makes sense) Shatter and Killer both got between Template and Chara.”

ZM

Template turns chara's soul indigo and those her against the ledge breaking her shield.

Core

Killer attacked Template, as did shatter, who turned into a xenobeast

ZM

He teleported out of the way and into a tree shooting down at the two of them

Core

Shatter climbed up the tree, her six hooked feet made to climb.

ZM

Chara joins shatter and as template was detracted by keeping shatter away, chara jumped high into the tree and smashed him down into the branch he was sitting on.

Core

Shatter smacked Template with her tail.

ZM

He teleported away but because chara was on his back she was brought along as well. He manages to throw her off and down to where killer is, she landed well and was ready for more. He's back up to where neon is

Core

Neon didn’t attack, not a fighter. Killer shot towards Template, extremely pissed

ZM

Template couldn't teleport away again cause he can only do it so many times in a row The blades on his back come out as he just straight up punches killer

Core

Killer slashed at him, only for ink to grab the blade.

ZM

Template took a step back and turned killers soul blue and started pushing her down while waiting for a good shot at shatter

Core

Shatter stayed low to the ground, her spines raised as she hissed

ZM

Template teleported right by shatter and the static hurt her ears. He summon a big pen and stabbed it into her shoulder

Core

The xenobeast didn’t have ears, but the pen did do damage. She hit him with her tail, smacking him away

ZM

The pen got pulled out and the end of it started to glow blue with errors. He quickly made a few 4 legged figures and they came to life attacking shatter

Core

Shatter bit them in half with her mandibles. Killer was fighting Ink

ZM

"Your group is really a pain." He sneered to shatter. Chara helped get the last few figures off shatter. And through a knife at template which scratched his cheak

Core

Shatter split into three, Sectin stayed as the Xenobeast, Dusk turned into an indoraptor and Eunice to a freybug

ZM

He turned invisible and didn't seem to be in the area anymore. He appears behind neon and shoves her to the ground stepping on her back to keep her down. "Tell your friends to quit it or youre the first to go."

Core

“I’m not in charge of them.” Neon replied.

ZM

He takes his pen and stabs it into her neck. It's basically as thick as her neck so could easily decapitate.

Core

“I don’t want to fight you.” Neon hissed, grabbing the pen

ZM

"Frankly neither do I, but here we are." He pushes down harder

Core

Neon spun the two around, Eunice approached, growling

ZM

( Wait what does that first part mean?)

Core

Neon is now on top))

ZM

( idk how she did that but I'll roll with it) he desummond the pen and kicked her trying to get away as eunice got closer he got ready to teleport.

Core

(Made her own back spike up enough to do so) Eunice opened her mouth, showing hellfire. Neon jumped away

ZM

With neon off he bearly made his portal in time and was spit out where ink is. His skin was seared and his scarf of fire as he quickly put it out.

Core

Sectin hit Ink, hopefully into the water, but Ink flew up into the air.

ZM

Template instantly told himself nows not the time but he was struck by the grace of inks movements. Template made a bat like thing that went to pluck at sectin's eyes

Core

Sectin hissed trying to swat at the bat.

ZM

He made a large bird and got on its back to join ink. "I know it's none of your concern. But I loath getting my hands dirty with others blood. Can't we do something about this?"

ZM

Chara joined sectin and than jumped high in the sky grabbing onto ink

Core

“Flee.” Ink replied. Dusk boosted Chara up with her head, allowing her to grab Ink’s wing.

ZM

Chara held on tight as the wing failed. Template frantically looked for an opening not wanting to hurt ink

Core

Inkused the other wing to move them away from the water as they fell.

ZM

When they hit the ground chara took the bag she mage full of sea water and dumped it on her

Core

Ink screeched and hit Chara away

ZM

Ink got a good hit on chara as her head spun. Template landed right after and made a screech sound throwing his pen at chara as it went right through her arm and pinned her there she made a painted cry but couldn't get the pen out of hervarm.

Core

Eunice jumped on Template, biting into his shoulder. Dusk went to help Chara

ZM

Template blinked in and out of view unable to do almost anything now his magic is basically used up. Chara kicked the air trying to remove the pen with dusk.

Core

Dusk broke the pen with her sharp teeth. Killer went after Ink

ZM

Chara got up, the broken pen still in her arm but not in the ground. Tonic made it to the fight slowly, partly cause without a leg they couldn't move fast and partly because of how bad they felt. Template noticed killer and dug his fingers into eunice.

ZM

Template got away from her after enough squerming and blocked killer

Core

Sectin picked up Tonic and took him away from the fight. Killer hissed at this, “oh you are so dead.” She slashes at his throat

ZM

His defense being as high as it is, it wasn't that deep but it bled plenty. "God! Can't you just leave her alone?! Don't you think you've got your revenge? !"

Core

“Not on you I haven’t!” Killer replied sharply, slashing again

ZM

he growled and shot forward grabing her neck trying to choke her.

Core

Killer spun them, pinning him to the ground

ZM

"stop! just stop! i'm sick of this!" he thrashes to get away but killer is frankly stronger than him.

Core

“I’m sick of liars!” She hissed

ZM

"she doesn't lie!"

Core

“You did!” Killer roared, slashing again

ZM

"what? leaving your little friend alone? what do you expect me to do!"

ZM

"she wants to kill my only friend!"

Core

“Not my problem! You made a deal!!” Killer hissed

ZM

"a deal to be left alone"

Core

“A deal to not harm!” Killer hissed, slashing again

ZM

the blades on his back go up and he pushes killer off him. "i'm sorry, i am, but sometimes you have to break morals to keep you family and friends safe " get barely has enough magic to turn her blue and keep her against the ground.

ZM

he calls up to neon "hey! i swear if you lead them to her again you're dead!" he goes over to ink and draws some carbon for her

Core

Ink grabbed Template and teleported.

ZM

chara went up to killer who was released from the gravity. "well that went well."

Core

Killer growled. “F*cking liars....”

ZM

"i know right." she pushes the pen out of her arm and has enough magic to make a save star and she heals.

Core

Sectin turned back, her shoulder was hurt and her eyes were scratched. “Why was I the one to get hurt?” “Maybe because you have the more deadly forms?” Eunice said, turning back as well

ZM

"she's got a point."

Core

“I can’t control that form.” Sectin whined. Dusk turned back, going over to Eunice and leaning on her. “It’s too cold here.”

ZM

chara yawns and stretches laying on the ground. "yeah it is kinda cold." she makes a small fire that floated above the ground.

Core

Dusk went over and laid down by it. “That’s better.”

ZM

tonic laid by dusk. "okay so" chara rubs her eyes. "that little guard dog of hers is making life difficult."

Core

“I can make you a new leg.” Neon offered

ZM

tonic looked over to her. "yeah?" tonic wasn't so sure about that.

Core

“Yeah.” Neon said.

ZM

"you can try if you like."

Core

Neon made the bone part of the leg, before attaching it

ZM

the end of tonic's leg intigrated the new bone to the system but it didn't conect the liquid.

Core

“Can you stand?” Neon asked

ZM

tonic seemed to find it fine "yeah, it seems good. thank you."

Core

“That’s great.”

Killer mumbled something under her breath

ZM

chara looked over "what's that killz?"

Core

“How long are we gonna do this goose hunt?” Killer said with a hiss.

ZM

she shrugs. "i may have given up by this point. it's kinda really annoying with this new star."

Core

“Well I haven’t seen him before, so he must be new... hence why he trusts the squid.” Killer hissed

ZM

"they said they knew eachother 7 months ago though."

"so not all that new i'd say"

Core

“Ink works on a different scale of time...” (So she works on our time, so like legitimately one day)

ZM

"i don't get it but whatever you say neon. he clearly likes her so that's just worse for us if we ever want to take her down. maybe just protecting ourselves by staying out of her way would be the best option for now." she shrugs "just a thought"

Core

“Agreed.” Eunice said. “I need to heal anyway.” Sectin remarked.

ZM

"it's settled than. you good with that killer?"

Core

“Pitch perfect.”

ZM

"never heard that expression before. But alright. I'm beat, night" she curls up away from the group.

Core

Dusk went and laid by her, her tail wrapping around Chara.

ZM

Template and ink land in a volcanic area making it easy for ink to find what she needs. Templates enerance is trash so as ink was looking around he fell asleep. Tonic tapped her new leg finding it wired she can't feel it.

ZM

Tonic has grown emotionally quite a lot. They're more like an actual person now and they don't like it. They feel like they're not supposed to be that way

Core

Ink ate bits of coal and ash, sources of carbon. Dusk cuddled up with Chara, needing warmth. Sectin called for Tonic, unable to see very well

ZM

Tonic went over to her. " need something?"

Core

“Well, I can’t sleep with Eunice because she’ll burn me, so I was wondering if we could bunk together?”

ZM

Tonic takes a second before agreeing "sure." Tonic isn't tired infact they want to go colect peices of their leg but they lay down anyway.

Core

Sectin snuggled with him, purring softly, she was like him in a lot of ways

ZM

tonic nuzzles under her neck the whole group rests until sunrise

Core

Sectin has healed overnight. Dusk was up first, basking in the sun

ZM

Tonic ended up by the water collecting pieces of the leg. Chara stretches and goes sovereign to killer shaking her shoulder.

Core

Killer swatted her away.

ZM

Chara pouts and rests her head on killers shoulder. "Killer wake up I'm bored"

Core

“Not my problem.” She mumbled. “Go explore.”

ZM

She groans "noooo." And rubs her face into her shoulder

Core

“Buzz off.” Killer yawned.

ZM

Chara doesn't leave and desides to lay there till killer gets up. Tonic found a few pieces, it was nice that they float but they couldn't find at least half

Core

Dusk saw Tonic. “Need help?” She asked

ZM

Tonic was startled "oh uhh... yeah that'd be nice."

Template wakes up finally not seeing ink around.

Core

Dusk stretched and turned into an aquatic dragon, looking on the lagoon floor Ink had found a small ravine

ZM

Tonic keeps looking and finds a strange little gem that some of tonics leg was wrapped around. After picking it up her little watch glowed brighter on the draco, when tonic put the gem on it it stopped glowing and clicked into place.

They wonder if that antlion had a similar gem, though they weren't there when it died.

Core

Dusk came back onto shore, dropping a few pieces.

ZM

"Thank you." Tonic picks them up. "Um I know you weren't around when me and eunice fought that scorpion but could you ask her if it dropped anything?"

Core

“Sure.” Dusk replied getting a handful of water, and walking to Eunice

ZM

( I ment tonic put the pieces dusk gave them with the others.)

ZM

Tonic followed

ZM

Template found the ravine and slid down to ink. "What you doing"

Core

Dusk then dropped the water on Eunice’s head, waking her up. “Higher pressure means more carbon.” She dug at a wall, finding a small diamond. “See?”

ZM

Chara had some splashed on her so she shot up and looked over at eunice. "Wooo, you just got dunked on." Template admired the small gem. "Impressive"

Core

Eunice then tackled Dusk, who was laughing, they never did have a chance to grow up properly so they were still kids at heart. Ink then ate the small gem

ZM

"What's that taste like?" Template cocks his head. Tonic clears their thoat. "Uhh eunice."

Core

“Actually they are my favorite, a metallic taste with a bit of zing to them.” Ink explains. “What?” Eunice asked, getting off of Dusk

ZM

"Did that creatcher you blew up when we were exploring drop anything intresting?" "Sounds nice" he smiles

Core

“Not that I saw, well, except this.” Eunice said, digging in her pocket. “One of the eyes was a gem.”

Ink found another one and gave it to him

ZM

Tonic took it and put it in the spot of the scorpio. He shows it to eunice "check it out" it glowed for a second and then chilled out.

Core

“Huh, that’s weird....” Eunice said. Killer finally sat up, taking some of the pillsZ

ZM

Template looked apologeticly "oh I cant, I'm a carnavor. But thank you."

Core

(A Genocide Star, Huh.) “No worries.” Ink said

ZM

(Thats right huehue) chara hopped up happy killer was awake. "Good you're up! Let's go do something." Tonic nods "right? I wonder what would happen if you got all the pieces."

Core

(Not What I would assume, well you need some facts then. Genocide stars are like Hyenas, they work in groups with an alpha female. Their main weapon is their bite, the majority Are venomous.) “Like what?” Killer yawned. “Dunno....” Eunice thought.

ZM

(Good to know. He is a error veriant an, he goes against his nature in everyway possible because he hates every error varient he's met ever. He kinda hates himself cause of that.) "Well gee I dunno, we could fight if you want. Go find some exp. Critters." Chara says. Tonic thinks it over, what would even be worth gathering all of those pieces.

Core

“How about, you fight all three of us, and figure out the differences between the three kinds of stars? No powers or weapons allowed.” Killer explained. Shatter fused back together. “I dunno, I don’t think we are good examples of each type.”

ZM

"I agree with shatter but What do you mean 'all three?' I thought neon wasn't a star anyway?"

Core

“Doesn’t mean I don’t fit within the categories.” Neon said. “Yeah, Believe it or not that stupid squid can still be seen as a Pacifist Star.” Killer shrugged,

ZM

"Huh. Sounds weird. But you better believe I'm up for fighting neon!" She goes up to her.

Core

“Why?” Neon sighed. Getting up.

ZM

Template watches ink colect things patiently sitting cross-legged on a rock. "I wanna see what you can do! Technically I've fought everyone else here."

ZM

Tonic is melting the peices of her leg into one piece and works it around their fake leg. Totally unsure what they're doing.

Core

Ink made a bag, filling it with gems. Neon sighed. “I don’t have a choice I assume?”

ZM

Chara scowls. "If you hate it that much than I guess not."

Core

“Thank you.” Neon said with a nervous smile.

ZM

Chara sticks out her tounge jokingly giggling and turning away. "You wanna explain your hate of fighting?"

Core

“I just don’t see the purpose of it.” She said

ZM

"Aww, no fun story? I love those"

Core

“Well I’m sure she has some.” Neon said, referring to Killer.

ZM

"she hates talking about 'feelings'"

ZM

( don't mind me back story time, hope your notifications are off) Template was born with his brother pale after a big internal fight from his clan of stars. More than half of the group was killed for disobeying the alpha. Their mom raised them for a few years but their area was growing smaller and smaller as other packs fought for the area they lived in. Template was very different from his brother. Pale would almost never talk and when he did it was with a dead tone in his voice. Template was an energetic kit, happy and talkative but very skittish. Their mom favored template but pale was fine with that as he liked to be alone.

The alpha was loosing her grip on the pack again so she devised a plan. Pale was an extremely strong kit. Everyone knew he was made for great things, so the alpha took him under her wing years ago to teach him. The alpha ordered young pale to make some rounds around their pack's area, find the ones who planned on over throwing her. No one but template and their mom knew that pale was the Alpha's little lap dog so the plan was perfect. Or so she thought. Pale walked around listening to others until something snapped in him. He hated this pack. It never stuck him before but he hated it, emotions are something pale was never able to really feel (Cause he's an ink varient.) So when this random nagging emotion boiled up inside him he couldn't refuse. He started with a young family. He killed them. his poison, a shiny oil like liquid, obsorbed their soulstones. He's done that to random animals before but never a star and it filled him with ecstacy. After eating his fill he went on to the rest of the pack. He moved like a plegue, no one saw him coming. After a lot of the pack was gone and the sun started to rise, he went home to rest.

In the morning there's nothing but confusion from the rest of the stars. Template looked to his brother and saw a light in his eyes he's never seen before. He looked happy. Template didn't understand untill he checked his vennom. It was much more colorful in the light, not the black shine that it usually had. Template instantly knew what happened but was conflicted on what to do. Pale played along with the little sharade that he put on with the alpha. Telling her of a beast that came in the night and killed the stars. Template told his mom what he thought happened but she couldn't belive that a kit could do all of that. The next night pale finished his fun. His venom a brilliant matalic rainbow color. He saved template for last. Template ran as far as he could but was not nearly fast enough to excape his brother. Pale slowed template down and grabbed his foot wanting him to stay and talk. Template couldn't get out of his brother's grip so he didn't have a choice.

Pale kept him there as template squirmed and yelled at his brother, he used his pure indigo vennom which is great at paralyzing but it did nothing to this kit that had enough magic in him for a small contry. Pale was not about to yell over his brother so when template stopped screaming he finally got to talk. Pale talked calmly about them growing up together, no anger or sadness in his voice, he just wanted to see if template remembered. Of course template remembers he just didn't know why pale asked. Pale talked and talked more than template had ever heard from him in their life. Template after a while asked "are you going to kill me or not." To which pale laughed. Another thing template has never seen him do. After pale stopped he pulled template closer to whisper in his ear. "You and i are the same. There'd be no point in that." Pale let go of his leg and got up. "Good bye brother." And he hasn't seen pale sense.

Template grew up the rest of his teenhood by himself, petrified to join another pack. He was always good with magic tricks, simple things that pale didn't see a point to. Invisibility, teleportation, both came easily. So easily infact that he was hopping universes quite early. He spends most of his time looking at other as and learning. That's when he learned the truth that he was an error varient. A swap version with his brother pale. He tried to get away from any part of him that was typical for an error and tried his best to learn inks magic, he idealized inks and what they did. His paint brush ended up looking like a tablet pen with error signs and anything he made couldn't be colored, have eyes or have smooth lines. This enraged him for a long time. Then he found the ai star ink and became infatuated Yada yada.

ZM

( *looking at other aus )

Core

(👏👏👏 that backstory is awesome, slight problem though, Genocide Stars Are normally nocturnal, but other than that I love it so much. 🤩🤩🥳)

ZM

(haha whoops.)

“Well ask her about events, not feelings.”

ZM

Chara looks over to killer. "You heard the lady, care to share?"

Core

“Well, I can’t remember too much, but I do remember small bits here and there.”

Killer replied

ZM

"Do tell" Chara sat on the ground and looks at killer intently ready for a long story.

Core

“Well I never knew my real parents, I was raised by some humans. They were rather nice, that was until they got ill.” Killer started

ZM

"Ooo that sounds a little like what happened to me, though I was kinda the problem for my dad getting ill." She shared. "What kinda illness" Tonic asks

Core

“They called it the Black Death.” Killer answered. “After that this man took me under his wing, he taught me to fight, to kill. I became numb to the idea of death. Eventually he sent me on missions.”

ZM

Chara nodded.

Core

“And that is how I lived for a few years, he soon wanted more control over me, he did something called ‘hypnosis’ or something, and that’s where my memories get messed up, but I soon grew tired of his control so I tore out my eyes to keep myself from his control.”

ZM

"Did you kill him? Cause you shoulda killed him"

Core

“I did, but it still wasn’t enough for me.. I killed his family, his assistants and everything he cared about.” Killer said

ZM

Chara whistles

Core

“Then I met Nightmare, and the rest is history.”

ZM

"I see. Do you like horror killer? You two are adorable and should get married." She teases

Core

Killer blushed. “No! S-she’s obnoxious and an idiot and f-funny.”

ZM

"Hmmmm~? Looks like you're in denial." She grins

Core

“N-no!” Killer snapped back.

ZM

Chara just laughs. "Aww that's precious!"

Core

“Can it runt!”

ZM

"Make me"

Core

Killer smacked Chara on the head

ZM

"Oww"

ZM

"Ya don't have to be shy about it killz! She's really cute after all."

Core

“What do you know?” Killer hissed softly

ZM

"I've hung out with her, not like I spent all my time with you when I was in nights group."

Core

“Whatever.” Killer replied.

ZM

"WhAteVer" she mocks.

Core

Killer smacked her again.

ZM

"Cut that out!"

Core

“Then stop being a brat.” Killer responded

ZM

Tonic cut in as he could see chara was gonna flip. "Chara, how about we go huntting. You know, instead of this." Chara glared at tonic.

Core

Killer seemed to agree. “Good idea.”

ZM

Chara groans and stands up grabbing tonic ' paw and drags them to an area below where they were on the beach.

Core

A snapping turtle was digging in the sand

ZM

"look at that little demon" chara tells tonic. "it's just a turtle." they respond.

"yeah but look at that jaw and those spikes!"

ZM

"... okay?" tonic doesn't get it. chara goes low to the ground and sneaks up on the turtle with a stick.

Core

The turtle ate a worm it dug up

ZM

chara pokes the shell of it with the stick

Core

It scuttled into the water

ZM

"wow, it's a chicken. hmmm think there are bears or wolves around here?" "possibly." tonic says with a shrug.

Core

They soon both could smell something rotting

ZM

"smell that?" tonic asks. "of course i smell that tonic. smells like rotten meat, worst smell. my dad was a hunter and a bad one at that so i'd know." she walks over to where the smell came from.

Core

It was a human, their body washed ashore.

ZM

"ah, a human. got what they deserved it seems" she laughs. she pokes it with the stick and a part of their skin fell off.

Core

Tonic could see a familiar set of spines breach the water

ZM

tonic makes a squeak trying to talk as they back away. "chara chara it's back." chara looks around and sees nothing "what are you talking about spaz?"

Core

The corrupted Killer soon beaches herself, keeping her head low as she tore off some of the rotting meat

ZM

"ewwww. don't eat that!" chara tells it while poking a hole in the arm with the stick. a descent distance away. " how many of you are there killer?"

Core

The creature was missing a spine, and had large wounds all over her.

ZM

"chara, l-lets leave.." chara shakes her head. "it's just hungry! I'll go get it some meat. there's gotta be some animals on this island." tonic scowls.

Core

The corrupted star acted submissive, in no shape for another fight. Every time Chara messed with the corpse, she backed off slightly

ZM

"wow, we really broke you huh? wait here, i'll be back in a second. and don't eat that shit!" she goes up to the more wooded area to find something. tonic didn't follow and instead watched the corrupted star from the top of the beach.

Core

Pathogen ate up, quickly trying to finish the meal, she couldn’t chew like others, but instead tore off pieces. A female pheasant had her nest in some of the tall grass.

ZM

chara caught and killed the pheasant easily, she grabbed the eggs as well. going back to the beach. seeing pathogen eating it again. she sped up and said "hey! i said knock it off! you'll make yourself sick!" she pulls the bloated body away and lays the eggs and pheasant by her.

Core

Pathogen backed into the water, watching.

ZM

chara kicks the body away unceremoniously and moves the food she got closer to the water and backs away.

Core

Pathogen slowly came out of the water, eating the eggs whole.

ZM

"chara. i don't like that you're helping this thing." tonic says quietly. "well get over it tonic. go hang with shatter, that's what you're good for."

Core

Pathogen ate the eggs, then went back to the rotting body.

ZM

tonic huffed. chara picked up the phesent again. "i said stop that! this is your food." she moves the body more.

Core

Pathogen hissed slightly, she was a scavenger, eating rotten meat came naturally to her, besides, the pheasant was Chara’s kill, and she already learned that Chara is stronger, so why steal food from her?

ZM

chara didn't appreciate being hissed at and moved the body towards her and drops the phesent by it and started to walk away. "well that happened." she says to tonic. "who really didn't seem happy with her.

Core

Pathogen dragged both objects into the shallow water to eat

ZM

"so can you make portals or nah tonic." with a sigh they tell her that they can. "cool! take me to night please!" tonic asks "shouldn't we tell the others we're leaving?" "nah, they always seem to know where i am anyway." "fine." tonic picks up some mushrooms turning their color blue and makes a portal.

night went back home with the kits. "hey guysss." chara greats them. horror, cross, moku, LJ and a couple others were there as well. they were having a meeting or something.

[fantroll-purgatory]

Xanatl Cambre, or whatever!

I read homestuck the first time when I was 13 and now that I’m rereading it I realized I processed almost 0 things in it the first time. So this is BASICALLY my first homestuck oc as someone who understands what the hell is happening in homestuck. I’m only about 3000 pages in, so I might have some misunderstandings still, sorry! Please go crazy telling me what I could fix or change, and I also have 0 clue for his appearance soooo. 

Okay! I’ll do my best to tighten this character up a bit!

Name: Xanatl Cambre 

Pronounced “Shan-uh-teal Cam-bray” (for the Aztec god Xolotl, and the coloration of darker axolotl’s- axanthic + the Spanish words for walk and fire/light)

Camnar is a seven-sweep-old violet-blooded troll who failed to fully complete his metamorphosis, for some reason or another- it happens! He possesses an extra set of fully functioning arms, a small flippy-flappy finny-tail-nub, and big bright purple shiny eyes. Everything else seems like it’s grown in okay, probably. Though he was fully capable of surviving his grub trials, his defects are admittedly uncomfortable enough to maybe have earned culling when he was only a few sweeps old, if not for [name here], a jade-blood with a penchant for healthy freaks and everything there is to learn about them (ESPECIALLY messed-up metamorphisizers) assisting in chopping off the extra bits every once in a while when drones come around. And definitely NOT keeping them in a walk in freezer to study. He’s not crippled or weakened by any of them, anyways, they’re just weird to look at- his eyesight might not be great, but he wouldn’t admit it. 

Fire, salamanders in general, the Aztec god Xolotl, and all around childish imbecility are all pretty big parts of and inspiration for his character. 

Hmmm. I feel like this passage comes off as fairly ableist, so watch your language here (i.e. “freaks,” “crippled,” “childish imbecility,” etc.). There is nothing wrong with a jadeblood being interested in mutants who remain healthy or in Xanatl not being weakened by losing body parts or even in him being childishly careless but language matters and I don’t feel comfortable letting it slide.

Interests: Penchant for outdoor land activities, especially camping. Loves using the time on those camp-outs to start fires, make star-maps, and attempt to commune with the dead through rituals found on old forums (with little success).

I like this bit as an emphasis on the fire theme, and I actually really like that you made a seadweller with that fire theme!

 A very keen interest in the occult and black magyks generally, but too lazy to go all the way with it, and too scared to perform it in his underwater home. A notable interest in weather-tracking, especially large storms and how they grow, change, and die. Mild inclinations to cannibalize other trolls- luckily, most don’t fit in his mouth.

WGAT

Finds great joy in training his lusus to do tricks and assist in hunting for dinner. A great cook! Especially loves spicy food (mustard flowers grow around his hive, and he uses their seeds/”eye of newt” for a kick a lot of the time). General propensity to put whatever he can fit into his mouth in his mouth that caused a lot of sickness as a young troll. One of his favorite non-food things to eat that isn’t necessarily dangerous are agave americana plants, which he grows and keeps all over the top floor of hive (he probably could not keep any other plants alive). Spends a lot of time with [insert jadeblood’s name], but mostly out of the obligation of their friendship, because he’s kind of tired of her cutting his fingers off to study their regrowth. He’s also mildly obsessed with siren stories and myths, but he doesn’t really know why. 

He lives in a two-story hive. The lower story sits below the water in a somewhat shallow muddy canal, and the top half hugs the shoreline. He spends most of his time in the bottom half, though.

Ooooh I really like that setup!

Personality: He’s kind of a coward. Very averse to change, but not fully content in his quiet life. He doesn’t particularly like company and when other trolls are around he feels urges to hurt them until they go away/are digested. Those urges don’t make him uncomfortable or guilty. It’s natural! Despite enjoying his outside time, most things he indulges in are sedentary- he’s very lazy and drowsy most hours of the night. He’s very defensive of his interests and his home, a little insecure in general. His high caste boosts his self esteem and his mutations knock it down- though he’s very removed from his society as a whole, self isolating with abandon, he dreams of mingling with the upper class in the deep ocean. Every troll and lusus around would probably kill him if he tried though, haha! He doesn’t like to talk about his emotions, or his future.

Wow unfortunate mood.

Special Abilities: None! Not notably strong, compared to any of his peers. A pretty normal kid/fish. Well, his extra arms and tail have some regenerative properties- he’s not sure if this extends to the rest of his body, and he refuses to test it. 

Strife Specibus: Mandible-kind. Xanatl’s teeth are fairly small and underdeveloped, sharp but tiny. He has a set of big dentures he fits over his own teeth, fixed from a few native canal beasts lost teef. 

Ooooh I really like that! You could also maybe have him fashion Greek-fire like molotov cocktails that he is verrrry reticent to use since it would burn his house down possibly.

Fetch Modus: Not sure! Maybe something to do with those lame circular life-cycle charts. Or a call to lotl’s regenerative abilities, like it breaks a piece off the item and it has to regrow so he can use it.

Hmmmm. What about a MITOSIS MODUS, which accepts an item and begins the process of cell division. For the next 24 hours, the item is inaccessible, but after those 24 hours he has two of the item!

Symbol and Meaning: Oh, no idea.

I’ll explain a little more down under title assignation, but I think Aquamini, Sign of the Idiosyncratic works exceptionally well.

Handle: neotenticSalamancer OR neotenicNecramander ? I wasn’t sure if it HAD to follow the GCAT thing, and if it did, what to use. 

You don’t have to follow GCAT! Those trolltags were specific to Hussie’s narrative and you don’t have to adopt that convention. I actually really like neotenicNecromander it’s cute.

Quirk: So I have two ideas for this:

replaces “sh” sounds with “x”, misspells often, not one to xout or use capital letters in general, and ends sentences with his tail =>

Or

u232 3 to r3plac3 “e” and 2 to r3plac3 “s”, 32 billion b3ing th3 numb3r of ba23 pair2 in th3 axolotl2 g3nom3… 2till u232 th3 cut3 tail too tho =>

Ooooh I like the first one for readability! Like yes leetspeak is a valid quirk but also I like when people break from that.

Lusus: Giant salamander-sized two-faced Xoloitzcuintli-type amphibious woofbeast. Not sure what to call this guy! Maybe “Mudpapi”, like mudpuppy. 

I love that nickname :D

Land: Land of Tilapia and Lightning, LOTaL (haha). Big beasts and big storms both threatening to swallow him. 

I super appreciate the acronym so I wanna keep that, but the first word of the Land usually related to its feel and the second to its quest. I can kiiiinda see how you could build a quest around lightning but the Vibe being tilapia doesn’t quite track for me. What about Land of Torches and Lightning, so it’s a bright planet but with two light sources trying to extinguish one another?

Title: I’m not sure I want him to ever god-tier because of his crippling fear of death and change. Like he would probably just blatantly refuse to, and stay content with being at the top of the echeladder pre-god tiers. I don’t know what his title would be, it’s a tough one! It’d be funny to make him a seer (for axolotl’s terrible eyesight, and the myth of xolotl crying his literal eyes out), but he’s probably a page. Of what? I’unno. 

:) I think he is for SURE a Page of Doom then. He has so much to do with death and rot and a lack of embracing that, and I can see potential for the character to really grow into that.

Lunar Sway: Derse? I’m inclined to want to give him both, because of the minor twin theming, but not sure what the rules are there. 

Ehhhh his personality is a lot more Derse with the desire for control over his circumstances. There are certainly cases where characters can have two moons but I don’t think this is it.

Thank you!!

No problem! I hope this helped!

-TR

[zefyre]

Garrus/Kag?

a+, 11/10, 👌👌👌✔✔✔✔✔ would write if iknew how to spin it, will cry if somehow by some miracle i ever see any contentfor it, like p l s? god?? y'all, garrus is apparently fucking s e v e n??? feettall??? you guys should know by now i’m so fucking weak for height differences,they’d be so freaking cute together?? that i wouldhonestly die of happiness

god pls i’m just imagining some scenariowhere he has to carry her out of a fire fight or smth bc she’s injured! hewould dwarf her, cradle her close and careful to his chest bc yea she’s abadass but she’s also tiny and human and in his head smol + human + hurt = vstrong need to protect his girl

and now i’m getting ideas lmao look what u did nonny!

(warning: a long spiel of unasked rambling under the cut)

((also also it’s been a while since i lastplayed mass effect and i’ve got the memory of a goldfish so apologies for anymistakes or ooc-ness lmao))

hmm but then how would they meet/knoweach other?? old c-sec partner? kagome comes onto the normandy to like, assistdr. chakwas??? oh! or maybe she meets him during his time as archangel, was apart of his team there but had managed to survive? and when shepard finds themboth holed up at his base and garrus inevitably takes that blast, she helpskeeps him stable and refuses to leave his side?

mhmm, since i can’t really see her abilitieshaving a place in like space? lolol maybe she’d have biotics instead? good witha pistol, deadly with a sniper, and maybe a bit of training in field medicinefor both humans and aliens??? which was maybe why garrus recruited her in thefirst place (and knowing him, he could never turn down a good shot, esp. afellow sniper, and she was a damngood one so the choice was obvious)

like garrus maybe meets her to ask her somequestions – she’s been on omega for a while now, made a bit of a name forherself as someone who’s willing to give a lending hand. she’s not really adoctor per say, but the thing is she knows her stuff. she’s got connections.and what’s better is that she’s nice, she’s unaffiliated, and more importantly,doesn’t ask any questions.

((kagome doesn’t involve herself with any ofthe mercenary outfits, however much she dislikes them, but rumor has it she’sunder aria’s protection which is why no one messes with her. kagome’s justreally good at making friends with the strangest variety of people and bc of that she’s left alone.))

but yea, what started as patching up a coupleof teens here and there that got into scrapes or roughed up from a job or whathave you turned to her apartment becoming a sort of safe haven if you needhelp. if kagome couldn’t help, she’d be sure to know someone who could and sendthem there. garrus picks up her name one day pretty early on in his days on omega,figures with people from all the merc groups coming through her door she’d hearsome things and finds her to get some intel. except kagome isn’t a snitch, pplwouldn’t consider her safe to approach if she was, so of course when he triesto press her for info she only smiles at garrus, hands him some medigeland bandages for the gunshot wound he was trying to conceal (and would swear?? hehadn’t let on about??), and some rations bc helooked like he could use it.

“you seem like a goodguy,” kagome says as garrus finally goes to leave. “smart, too.”

he pauses, halfwayout the door, and turns to look at her over his shoulder. she was stillsmiling, though it was softer now, more genuine. he doesn’t say anything inreply, but he tips his head to the side, listening, mandibles twitching as hewaits.

“you’re not the firstone to get it in their head to take on the mercs.” she looks at him closely.“you know it’s a suicide mission.”

garrus tenses, headdropping low for barely a moment before he straightens and pins her with a hardstare. “you’re telling me to drop it?” the very idea makes him bristle.

the small human womanactually snorts. “i doubt you’d listen. somehow i doubt you’d even care.” sheshakes her head. “no, i’m telling you you’d be dead before the week is up, soif you want to last longer than that, if you actually want to make adifference, put a dent in the mercs’ operations, then you might want to find some people.”her smile grows. “a squad.”

garrus stares at herfor a long moment, studying her. curiosity and something else stirs deep in hischest and he turns fully towards her, eyes narrowing something wry. “and youwouldn’t happen to know a few people that might be interested, would you?”

“well,” she shrugs,all casual and indifferent, but the curl of her mouth was definitely coy. “iknow a lot of people.”

it actually pulls ashort laugh from him, the sound raspy and gravelly but genuine, and it startleshim. he hasn’t laughed in long while, hasn’t had much reason to, not sinceshepard and the normandy…

he shakes himselffrom those thoughts and turns his attention back to the woman in front of him.“then I’d appreciate any help you could give me.”

and from there, garrus finds himself payingvisits to kagome’s modest little apartment every once in a while. sometimes tosee if she’ll give him any intel picked up from her other visitors (shedoesn’t), sometimes to ask if she knows somebody that could get him one thing oranother (that, she could help with) or if she heard any rumors about this murderor a string of missing people (she was more forthcoming when it came to thingslike that, and didn’t mind passing on info she’d heard on her own). andeventually every once in a while turns into a few times a week, to say hi, tochat, sometimes to have a drink.

except as garrus’ team grows and they make aname of their own, they start to make waves – it doesn’t take long after forthe wrong people to make connections, and even all the friends kagome madedoesn’t stop her apartment door from bursting open one day, ppl crashing in armed withguns and demands that she come with them, archangel on the tips of their tongues.

but it’s omega of course, practicallyeveryone was armed one way or another. kagome was no different. it didn’t hurtthat they sent a small group, thinking she’d come without a fight. throwing upa barrier and knocking them out with her biotics was too easy – not a lotpeople even know she was a biotic, so the element of surprise was with her.

It takes over an hour after the fact that hehears about it – he storms over and into her place to see it in shambles, theintruders still knocked out, and kagome gone with the wind.

there’s blood.

none of the mercenaries are bleeding.

suffice to say, garrus is neither gentle norpatient when he grabs one off the ground and shakes him awake to interrogatehim, and it’s only the slightest relief to hear they weren’t able to take her.

even that is squashed when he hears it’sbecause of him that they even came for her, and he’s none to kind when he knocks the fucker out again with the butt ofhis rifle before he’s off to find her.

he’s been looking for over 24 hours whensomeone approaches him, or rather, knocks into him under the guise of passinghim a note with an address on it.

he goes to it, of course, recognizes thehandwriting as well as the address and it’s with knee weakening relief to findher safe and sound in a well-guarded room in afterlife, nursing only a grazeand a strong drink, not even caring how she was even able to organize it.

(aria’s an old friend, she later says, muchto his bewilderment)

and there’s a moment™, garrus crouched down in front of kagome where she’sresting on the couch, and he reaches out to gently take her injured arm,mandibles fluttering in his distress, subvocals thrumming almost a whine when he turns toapologize that she stops him, striking him speechless as she reaches up to touchthe side of his face and smile kindly as she simply says, “not your fault.”

afterward, after garrus double checks on herwound and checks her over for any other injuries despite her rolling eyes andinsistence that she’s fine, and they’re left sitting together on the couch bothnursing a drink of their own, sitting close enough that their thighs arepressed together, she turns to him and says that since she can’t go home now,there’s nothing left but to join up with him now.

to which garrus sputters, choking mid-sip onhis drink, but because he couldn’t find any reason to object (not that heactually wanted to object – if he washonest, if he had ever thought there was the slightest chance she’d actuallyagree, he’d have asked her months ago)he agrees and welcomes her on board.

she fits in nicely with his crew, shepractically already knew most of them in some way or another, and from thereit’s smooth sailing. he couldn’t ask for a better squad, and it was almost tooeasy to disrupt the stranglehold the three merc groups had on omega.

(there’s a human saying about knocking onwood when it came to chancing fate, and if there had actually been any nearby he’d have done so in a heartbeat)

it takes him a long while before he realizes he’snot just fond of her, but attracted toher – it isn’t until they’re betrayed by one of their own that he recognizesthe driving force behind the strong sense of protectiveness that overwhelms himwhen they’re in a firefight, the same one that spikes whenever she dives out of cover tohelp when someone gets hit, and in the months that follow when it’s just themtwo holding the fort against wave after wave of mercs, it’s her that compelshim not to throw himself in one last blaze of glory to take out as many mercsas he can.

when shepard comes blazing in, he almostcouldn’t believe it, he thinks his prayers to the spirits for some way for themto get out of the corner they’d been backed into were answered in the form of amiracle.

he should have remembered the spirits had asick sense of humor when he took a rocket to the face.

[godslush]

A quiet inkling in the back of my mind today before work told me that maybe I should post my “playable Nerubian” sketches from 2010-2011. They’re not particularly great, and I detest the female design now, though I suppose it’s in-line with Blizzard’s usual handling of things like that.

I also had a write-up that I made even earlier, as well, but reading it now just makes me cringe.

...I’m including it anyway.

Faction Title: Azjol-anak? Racial Leader: Kilix the Unraveler? Home City: ??? (Faction-dependent)

This would only be an option after the Lich King is defeated, and seeing how that is imminent, it makes this at least partially possible. Faction siding is up in the air, though. On a personal and selfish note, I would group them with the Horde, probably through Sylvannas and the Forsaken, whom, like the Nerubians, were directly victimized by the Lich King and the Scourge. Additionally, their monstrous nature is likely to be somewhat more accepted by the Horde (arguably, the Alliance welcomes the Worgen in Cataclysm, but Worgen are just humans with an unfortunate shapeshifting condition, as opposed to the straight-up beastly nature of Nerubians). However, Brann Bronzebeard appears to have a decent amount of diplomacy with the Nerubians of the Sundered Monolith, leaning towards them joining the Alliance (though Brann himself seems to be slightly more neutral than straight-up Alliance, especially in Wrath of the Lich King, where knowledge is more important than who helps him obtain it, as implied by instances such as Halls of Stone). It could go either way, and would probably depend on what race is introduced opposite of them.

What exactly these 'playable' Nerubians -are- is also questionable. Either they are a secretive caste that had remained hidden for all these years, or the few remaining living Nerubians used magic and science to combine their blood into that of more humanoid races in an effort to bring forth a new, stronger caste with the hope of using such a caste to regain the race's foothold in the war-torn world.

In my head, I see them as quite different. Unlike the typical six-legged-two-armed nerubians, four-legged-four-armed 'priest' nerubians, or four-legged-two-armed winged Crypt Lords, these 'playable' Nerubians are humanoid in build, with two legs and two arms, as well as a pair of seemingly useless 'vestigal' arms with two claws sticking out from the sides of their torsos just under their ribcages. They also have a pair of longer 'arms' sticking out of their backs like wings, armed with a single large claw. Most clothing or armor does not accomodate the extra limbs, and holes need to be cut into them. Both pairs of arms are usually tucked close to the body, because they're usually left unarmored, and therefore vulnerable (despite carapace).

In general, males are more beetle-like and heavyset, while the females are much more slender and spiderlike. The most defining male facial feature is their single facial horn, while the defining facial feature of females are mandibles.

Modifiable features are probably: Carapace color (essentially skincolor, though may only extend to their armored portions: anything unarmored would probably be black or dark gray) Hair style (A mainly variations and stylings of "unruly mess of quills", but also makes egyptian-style headdresses available as 'hair' with varying stripe patterns) Hair/headdress color (Hair tends to be subdued, darker colors, headdresses are bright) Face Type (Generally denotes layout of eyes, but also the presence or lack of mandibles or horns) Spikes (Chooses the style of their claws, as well as mandibles or horns (if present).

Without class bonuses, Nerubian base stats could be: Higher than average Spirit (22?) Higher than average Agility (22?) Average Intelligence (20?) Lower than average Strength (18?) Lower than average Stamina (18?)

Racial abilities that come to mind include (not ALL, obviously, just brainstorming):

Enhanced Unarmed - Moderate additional damage (scaled with level) when attacking unarmed, as they additionally strike with the limbs on their backs as well as their hands. (Passive)

(PERHAPS) Natural Armor - The natural carapace of a Nerubian gives them an additional 1% (2%?) armor contribution from items. (Passive)

Silk Weaving - Being mostly arachnoid in nature, leaning towards spiderlike, nerubians have an innate skill with silk and webbing. Therefore, they have a +5 tailoring bonus. (Passive)

Shadow Proficiency - Long-time practitioners of dark magic, Nerubian's chance to hit with Shadow spells is increased. (Passive)

Sticky Web - A racial rooting ability that can trap fleeing opponents. (2 min cooldown)

Filament Floatation - Constructs a 'parachute' of silk webbing to slow falling speed for 20 seconds. (1 (2?) minute cooldown)

Available classes: Hunter? Rogue Warrior Mage Priest Warlock Death Knight

Racial Mount: Anaki Tank - A large beetle, modified over years to be more streamlined and to run on only four legs (it carries its extra two vestigal limbs close to its body between its front and hind legs). Its head is similar to that of crypt-lords (or male playable Nerubians), with a large, single horn that helps their riders charge down foes. Their hunched, molded pronotum supports a decorative yet comfortable saddle with a horn. The pronotum on the Battletanks also has large spines raking forward from the front, reminiscent of tough slightly less pronounced than on an Atlas Beetle. At the apprentice level, the tanks' natural armor is left plain and unadorned. Battletanks are embellished with colored, jeweled trim. -Colors- *Apprentice: Brown Anaki Tank, Gray Anaki Tank, Beige Anaki Tank *Journeyman: Blue Anaki Battletank (silver trim), Green Anaki Battletank (gold trim), Yellow Anaki Battletank (black trim) *PvP: Black Anaki Battletank (gold trim) *Argent Tournament 5-mark: Royal Anaki Battletank (purple, gold trim) *Argent Tournament 100-mark: Azjol-anak Battletank (red, gold trim)

-==Gender Specifics==- Both have normal laughs, as well as a "Kekeke" laugh. Because the Nerubian language seems to accommodate it so well.

Knowing little to nothing about Nerubian aside sounds, I won't bother to make things up. Anything in Nerubian will be notated with an [N] and left to later interpretation, with [C] being relapses back into Common. Some vocals not covered because I can't think of anything 'original.'

FEMALE: Dance - Walk Like an Egyptian ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cv6tuzHUuuk )

/attack - "Attack-k!" "Sstrike them noww!" /goodbye - "We bid you farewell." "'Till nex-xst we meet." /charge - "For Azjol-Nerub!" "There isss no escape for you!" /cheer - "[N]Fortune smiles on us!" "Yessss!" /congratulate - "[N] Good work." "That wass a fine job." /flee - "SSscatter!" "We fight again another day!" /flirt - "I'd love to have you in my web." "I'm no widow... Not by choicce, at least." "I give an -ex-xc-cellent- massage." "I can take care of the k-kidss. All sseventy-eight million of them." /followme - "Follow. Follow the ssilver thread." /healme - "Woundss... need healing." /helpme - "I req-quire assistanccce!" /hello - "Greetingsss." /incoming - "Danger coming our whey!" (8D) /oom - "Running-g out of mana!" /openfire - "Shhhoot!" /rude - Leans forward, thumb on 'nose', waggling fingers upward. /silly - "I sew my own clothes. With my own silk." "I would like a maggot burger with everything on it, and fliess on the sside." "I know nothing of thiss... tuffet of which you speak-k." /thanks - "Thhanksss." "Many thankss." /wait - "Hold up." "Wait here." /welcome - "We bid you welcome." " /yw - "It wass my pleasure." "It wass not a problem."

MALE: Dance -

/attack - "Get them!" "Desstroy them!" /goodbye - "We anticcipate your return." "Ssso long-g." "Your company wass... appreciated." /charge - "For Azjol-Nerub!" "Victory shhhall be oursss!" /cheer - "[N] Fortune smiles on us!" "Mossst fortuitouss!" /congratulate - "We c-c-commend you." /flee - "Flee, young oness!" "You haven't sseen the lasst of uss!" /flirt - "Will you let this arachnophilia?" [Arachno feel ya] "Don't mind the cobwebss. They add a touch of gray that sstands for... ex-xperience." "C-come. Let uss kisss with tongues." " /followme - "C-c-come. Thiss way." /healme - "I am in need of mending!" /helpme - "C-come to my aid!" /hello - "Good day, morsel. I mean... friend." /incoming - "Danger approachess quick-kly!" /oom - "Mana hass run dry." /openfire - "[N]They are in sight! [C] Open fire!" "Hhhasssha!" /rude - The 'common' rude gesture, hand in crook of elbow with other fist up, but with both the main arms and the 'vestigal' limbs. /silly - "What'sss sso interessting about a water ssspout, anyway?" "With g-great power, c-comes great ressponsibility." "C-c-common sensssse tingling-g." "You asssssk t-too much of me. I'm not a sssssuper man, you know." /thanks - "You have my eternal g-gratitude." "Thank-k you." /wait - "Sssstay." "Follow not." /welcome - "The Empire welcomess you." /yw - "There iss no need for thankss." "Ssurely you would have done ssimilar."

[sidpah]

Self-Portrait

I’m too late, ‘cause I’ve already given it all away… I would have you see a different man than the one who types in a foreign land touched by the meddling hands of a dozen different peoples, not looking to trade their culture’s wisdom but to strip the land of all that was of value… I’m as exhausted as these trampled streets, these thrashed jungles infested with foreign soldiers protecting their investments of ruby mines and narcotic crops… These filthy marketplaces mirroring the worst of the west… I feel this land’s pain, sweaty, asshole on fire from weapons-grade curry… Feet bare and stained black from disintegrating sandal felt smelling vaguely of stale vinegar…

One worn mala on left wrist strung from a seed whose name I’m too tired to recall... Night steals precious chemicals of communication… Ramakrishna? Ramirez? Rudraksha! Seeds are homage to a rival deity, Shiva. But he can’t be my rival because I’m a loner, no member of a team. I have no church, no faith, no dogmatic practice…

There are no gods left in Sidpah… they’ve all been driven into the sea… In their place is an amorphous web of beliefs constantly respun to create fresh, deceptively vibrant yet undeniably asymmetrical patterns… Sneezing. Spittle web strung from this bulldog face.

This is not how I would have you envision me. Not ten pounds overweight. Or twenty. Not greasy-scalped and hairy-shouldered. Not in boxers three days worn. Not with fresh semen dripping down inside of chaffed leg. Not delirious or deliriously lonely. Not a fermented berry of a man… Not wrung like a wrong number or my hands on a too-hot, two-handjob sleepless night of grey panel torture and anxiety whispers from the dark hollow faces cursing my room... There’s hardly a man to be seen. Sure, there’re fingers and hormones and tree sprouts of white matter, but this vacancy is my truest fingerprint…

Maybe I’m a long way from knowing anything of value – Maybe all these garish visions are only detours – Mara’s little tricks to keep me from realizing that he doesn’t even exist – From realizing how content I could remain, entwined in vines running tree cloud to packed sod – Kusa grass and prayers are sustenance – Filled with admiration for the holy, I feel lazy and defective. Unable to live up to my own nobility –

Body’s a common machine with subtly varied proclivities – This unit spins on tales of letters and adjectives – faulty electronics, broken strings, healed strangers expecting repetitious miracles… It refuses to sit on cushion for more than a few minutes of banal torture –

Who can I lie to but myself? I’m a bear born in the year of the horse who would rather be a bird cutting the sky over a tropical island free and clear. A bachelor, tried, tested and confirmed – Allow yourself to be there – The backs of my hands look offensively large and rough under this light. They’ll sink like a stone. Shatter a keyboard or a cheekbone. Split a vein down the middle. Play an ugly one-stringed melody. Too rarely thumb bodhi seed mala and chant for purity. Too rarely fold into mudra for health or circulation of prana. Never stroke her cheek, or twist knots in her auric hair, or slip surreptitiously beneath silk blouse... They’re always rough sand mortar and burlap, unwieldy bricks in a room of June bugs. And they are but one-twentieth of the whole… Our best features are sometimes the most ungainly –

Nothing can make you feel more self-conscious than an unsolicited portrait. Well here is my self-portrait whether I like it or not: My bones have turned russet from sweat and oil.  Tanned skin is painted to walls in gobs of brown and red…  Tribal tattoos – Whose tribe are they?  Hoary old stalactites…  I’m all moles and telengiectasia – Red spots threaten bloodletting – Black dots threaten melanoma – Porous brown bones contemplate fractures deprived of nutrients or forced upon by physical labor – Brain lies in wait for AVM to seize its chance – Colon responds same spastic way to grease, parasite or imaginary humiliation – Eyes grow longer causing me to see things closer and closer – Hair follicles poisoned by drugs, recreationally pharmaceutical, or maybe genetics, give up their will to push – Gums infected ruby red rather than healthy coral, so says dentist. Veins are thick with stony plaque – Torso (most dangerous place) thick with roll of collected fat – Heart overworked and underpaid – Adrenal glands jacked up, depleted, now wilted and suffering, unable to respond with proper chemical dialogue – Convenient codified diagrams of peptide sound – Sinuses full and swollen shut, fine steroid mist unable to penetrate packed cavity – Lungs full of soot and yellow phlegm –

Every cell now thriving, still dying – Skin losing elasticity – Will losing control over mind – Erection still works, though one testicle aches like it’s being tapped continually by a tiny spoon – Mandible muscles tight, jaw crunches clicks, teeth grind with stress or over-taught concentration watching repetitions of breath – Blood cells becoming ineffectual against infection – Antibodies awaiting a battle they will eventually lose – Thus far, all wars have been successfully fought – winning streaks can’t last forever – And still I manage to sit and laugh – this trivial life away –

I’m a fictional beast, leaden of feet and shaggy of back. Reptilian face and beady squint eyes size up each flickering movement for a taste of prey I pray never to taste. A pitiful mirror painted on fat chest reflects the vulgarities of the external world, ignoring the vulgar black tain of my own soul...

Disbelief in my own soul reflects the myopia of others that I live to destroy, condemning them to feel equally base – And I grin knowingly, all the while knowing nothing...

Fixating on microscopic sensation of flesh, the intangible workings of my own conscious thoughts… I dwell until they are their own universes, fashioning civilizations of bigotry, torture and carcinogens. I can see clearly with distaste every vile behavior yet reenact, reenact, justify and reenact them all until I swoon from degradation, frustration, stupidity and self-pity...

I can never be a martyr because I lack a cause. Mild disinterest, no more acerbic than a warm glass of soymilk. I’m neither political nor spiritual. Not even secular because I don’t believe in distinctions. I’m a realist who finds all phenomena to be thoroughly unreal... I will leave nearly all stones unturned and all books unread. The meager knowledge accumulated in my lifetime just so many dusty trinkets in a collapsing display case. One leg bound to give out and destroy the few items of relative value buried within... Whose gain? Whose loss? I’m a beggar for salvation. But I’m too proud to take a teacher’s charity... Lift my head to the warm eclipse of Sunrays, devastating in their splendor… And degraded I sigh, sheepishly grin, and turn away where my mind fondles something or someone else, distracting itself from the fact that I will never be attractive to society…

I’m a rare beast. I know what I want and also why I shouldn’t want it. It doesn’t curtail the cravings, but it makes me feel guilty and ridiculous for desiring them in light of this knowledge… Like lusting for a hammer when you have to drive a screw into the wall. Like lusting for a screwdriver when you have no walls or screws. I’m an unfortified mess…

What is a mess? These parts are not this man. There’s no man, but a mash of aggregates held in six-foot net – And these parts are not eternal. They are already replaced! Even this outer shell replaced every twenty-eight days! These transient parts are not even these parts! They are particles of energy with no essence to be ashamed of!

My atoms are shinier than your atoms! My electrons are faster than your electrons! My protons look better in a bikini! My neutrons have reached higher states of meditative bliss!

My anger is crimson and molten as your anger. My love as passionate and fleeting as your love, and my wisdom as deep and true as your wisdom. It’s only our learning, stilted and prejudiced that keeps us from knowing this. That keeps me from knowing that I am not these emotions. I am not these colors, melanin, blood, bile, iron…

I am not this face or hands or organs, not this beard, or these callused soles. I am not a brain running strings of 0s and 1s. I am not recollections of old escapades, not every movie watched or novel read with this body placed in role of protagonist – I am not a list of preferreds, a list of don’t-likes, a list of aspirations, a list of disappointments to be avenged, or sulked upon each day to keep their memories alive – flowers on their headstones… I am not the photograph friends, family, acquaintances carry in their tattered wallets – The image they try to bind me to expecting a scripted response to their own erratic behaviors… Unaware that they are not they as much as I am not I. And I am not an I – I am a We, I am an Us, I am a No! I am a Bah! I am infinitely manageable, malleable, fallible…

My mistakes are empty as all the things I ever got right and then wished like hell I hadn’t... All the battles I ever thought I won. All the dreams I ever woke from disappointed to be awake... Cravings repressed until the cauldron boiled over, and I binged night and day until the urges were sated –(Mara kicked back with a cigar and a smug grin…) All the technology I bought then broke, couldn’t find a use for, discarded or lost on dusty shelves in a cluttered basement – All those times I was inches from death, and relieved, died anyway, unbeknownst to this pathological brain – It can’t comprehend that I’ve already perished, that I’m eternally here, already in my final and only and everlasting incarnation as a sublime manifestation of life eternally creating itself – But if it can’t comprehend it, how was it thought, considered, written, embraced, known? I am more than any of us will ever understand. And maybe this is all there is to know –

[theazurerat]

"What the hell was I thinking!?" Her fist collided with the wall, making the entire stall shake. She recoiled, and held her searing knuckles in her hand. "Fuck. Fuck! I hope nobody heard that..."

She looked into the bathroom mirror. Her tears were dry, but her face was still stained with dry eyeliner. Her hair was in messy, green and brown wires. She looked like a mess, and she knew people were noticing. The vid-mirror placed a circle around her eyes, zooming in on the ruined makeup.

"Don't be sad, Olivia. Dresta Cosmetics is here to wipe those tears away, and for only 18 cred you can have mascara that lasts!" As the mirror patronized her, a digital effigy of her face appeared where her real face had been. The effigy smiled, sporting a pristine facial job with the same mascara darkening her eyelids. Her sadness combusted into anger, and her clenched knuckles smashed a blossom of cracks into the mirror. The reflection flickered, and renewed tears flowed from Olivia's eyes as she saw that her knuckles were destroyed by the glass.

Olivia emerged from the restroom with paper towels wrapped around her wounded hand. Red blotches expanded on the paper, and she hoped nobody would notice, or put the pieces together regarding the destroyed vid-mirror. She strode into a terminal that was almost entirely empty. She stared out of the plasma windows expectantly, waiting for her ride to dock.

"I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have shut up. I can't believe I did that." Olivia's voice only brought more tears.

Her head turned to a bright light appearing far off in space. It was another ship ripping into space, and decelerating into this reality. It was too far off to tell, but she hoped it was her ride out of this place.

"You're hurt!" Olivia turned to the woman standing on the platform. A Yiktara. A humanoid torso ending in humanoid arms and head. She spoke beneath shifting plates of chitin. Her green, chitinous torso sat upon a long body that was carried behind her on long, thin legs.

"Like you give a shit." Olivia was in no mood for some stranger looking for Good Girl Points by showing pity.

"In more ways than one I see. You smell sad." Olivia raised an eyebrow at the arthropoid. Aliens say strange things about humans. Xenopologists say it's because many species communicate with heightened senses related to smell, or touch. The Rikniti, for example, are impossible for an unassisted human to communicate with due to their language relying on several frequencies of sound that humans are not capable of hearing.

"Thank you? Look, I'm fine, I'm patched up and everything." she pointed to the wad of one-ply bathroom gauze wrapped around her hand.

"Your ichor is soaking through. You need better care." Olivia didn't bother telling the woman that humans don't bleed ichor.

"I need to get the hell out of here." Olivia turned away from the alien and to the vessel, a star shuttle decelerating into the station terminal. Retro thrusters fired in various different directions, lining the vehicle up with the umbilicals. "This is my ride."

"This is to be my vessel too." Humans have still yet to figure out how the Yiktara are capable of mimicing so many speach patterns with their complex mouth structure. "Perhaps they have a medbot to heal your limb. I can't imagine what that's like, living your whole life with your flesh hanging outside of your skeleton like that."

"Yeah well, we humans make do."

The umbilical opened, and only a dozen beings emerged from it. Olivia knew this station was in a galactic backwater, but she didn't realize how depressing it really is. Her homeworld had a busier station. Olivia walked across the umbilical with her cred-card ready, with the Yiktara woman following behind her on hundreds of rythmically walking legs. The android that served as the ship's conductor scanned the card, and wordlessly let her pass.

With the Yiktara following behind they made their way to the ship's infirmary. Civilian transport infirmaries aren't sophisticated. They're there to help travellers with minor medical problems. It also has a pharmacy with a limited selection of drugs. Olivia made her way over to the med-bot. It was a dated model, humanoid android torso next to an examination table. It's arms had many sets of disposable tools.

Olivia held the cred stick out to the android. It scanned the card, and a green light emitted from it. She held out her ruined hand and let the machine examine it.

"Fatal databank error, can't identify species." said the android as it hunched forward and became inert.

"Oh no!" the Yiktara held her hands to her mandibles.

"Piece of shit! If my hand wasn't fucked up I'd punch this damn thing." Olivia turned and stormed away. She hesitated as she noticed the blood dripping through the paper. She bit her lip, and went off to the pharmacy, past another human woman, clutching her hand. She ignored the strangers eyes and looked for actual gauze to bind her cuts. Olivia paced near the walls of products, pulling useless items from the shelves and dropping them. She ignored the android behind the counter telling her not to make a mess.

"Human! Come look!" Olivia briskly walked back to the infirmary to find the Yiktara pointing to the stranger she passed in the pharmacy. A pale, tall woman with brown hair. She wore a sweater and a dress. She would be unnoticeable in a crowd. The lady had the panel behind the droid open, and her fingers dug deep into it.

"This other human... Oh I never asked for names! I'm sorry! I'm Cht'kt'tktk'ch'ktch. Who are you two?" The alien looked between the two women.

"I'm Olivia. And I'm sorry, but can I just call you Chit?" Olivia said, he gaze drifting to the other human.

"A nickname! Yes, humans give these to compensate for difficulties pronouncing names that are hard for them. You can call me Chit! Yes!" Chit sounded thrilled to witness this human tradition first hand.

"Zero." She shut the panel on the robot's back before hitting a small button in its neck.

"Zero? Is that like a techie name or something?" Olivia examined the medbot before showing it her cred-card. The machine scanned the wound and went to work. Olivia hissed as the machine began to pull glass from her hand.

"Please hold still." The medbot's voice tried and failed to sound warm.

"Yeah." A simple answer from Zero. She stood over Olivia's arm.

"This will cause pain. I am sorry." The machine sprayed paste into the cuts. Olivia's face furled into a pained grimace. Synth-cells in the paste converted to new skin, and Olivia's hand was closed up in moments.

"Hey Chit, thanks for the help. And thank you too, Zero." Her gratitude earned her a nod from Zero.

"You are welcome, Olivia! I'm going to climb to the upper layers. If you need anything more, do come find me!" Olivia waved as the Yiktara turned away, her long body carried beneath her on hundreds of marching legs.

"So, what happened? The hand, I mean." Zero looked to Olivia's hand again.

"Got in a fight with a vid-mirror. I won." Olivia smirked.

"Nice! Any reason that mirror had to die?"

"Well it was playing another one of those fucking commercials. But also I was just in a really horrible mood." Olivia's face sank.

"Bad day?"

"Bad life, more like. I kissed the wrong sex, and told the wrong person. Now I'm just trying to put as much distance between me and Tolos as possible." Olivia's eyes looked low.

"Tolos? I'm from there." Zero's brow perked slightly. She wasn't very expressive.

"No shit?" Olivia gazed back with a raised eyebrow.

"Went to school in Orbital U."

"And here you are, in this big fat shuttle. What's an orbital alumnus doing here?" Olivia's arm stretched out, flicking her wrist to their mundane surroundings.

"Got fired."

"Yeah? And where are you gonna go?"

"Well I'm going to the Yildine Shipyards. I don't know where you're going." Zero shrugged.

"Fuckin' anywhere. Vanish without a trace. Not that they'll come looking for me." Olivia leaned against the exam table.

"Well... If you wanna vanish, then you can't do much better than space. No one will find you there, it's too big!" It was a half joke that Olivia pondered for a few seconds.

"You're gonna be a spacer?" Olivia doubted.

"Yup!" Zero was unwavering on this idea.

"... Well I have done lots of STL flying back on Tolos."

"Well there you fuckin go! Be a pilot!" Zero nodded in the direction of the wall. It was actually the wrong direction, as she pointed towards the ship's rear. A useless observation noted by Olivia.

"Maybe." Olivia stood and walked toward the stairs. As she walked she called over her shoulder. "I'll think about it!"

Olivia climbed the stairs to the upper decks and sat next to a plasma window. Her gaze met the stars. Olivia didn't have a plan. Zero had a plan, and a dangerous one at that. Olivia ran from Tolos to find a better life, and she knew she wouldn't find it in the corridors of whatever grease station she ended up in. The worlds, the governments, the wars, and the states will always grip the lives of every world walker and station shuffler.

Still, Olivia had 14 hours travel time to decide. Her tired head, drained of tears and sweat, rested against the wall. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and soon, the blackness of space washed over her.

[ramblinganthropologist]

N7 Challenge 26 - Purple

Summary: Well... someone was going to catch him eventually. But did it have to be Garrus?

---

Man... he was getting way too good at this whole undercover cross-dressing thing.

Alistair carefully – dare he say it, daintily – stepped over the unconscious man he had just knocked out. His armor said he was Blood Pack, his head said he probably had a concussion. That tended to happen when a biotic whipped something at you, but hey. What did he know?

The other person left was also human, and looking at him as though he was a living nightmare. That was fine by him. It made interrogation easier. So with a spring in his step, he directed himself over to where they were staying.

Naturally, they tried to shoot him but that's what biotics were for.

“That was a little rude. All I wanted to know was where your hideout is.”

They spat blood before they spoke. “Fuck off, I saw what you did to Ban over there. I ain't telling you-”

And then they stopped talking, eyes wide. Alistair cocked an eyebrow, but then he heard the footsteps. They were taloned. His blood ran cold as he prepared his barrier, but no shot came. Instead, he hear the aiming of a gun.

The red dot appeared on the other man's forehead.

“Now, is that a nice way to treat someone? All we want is some information.”

A smooth, translated voice sent a shiver down Alistair's spine for all the wrong reasons as sweat began to trickle down his neck. He immediately began to curse his luck as he resisted the urge to look over his shoulder. He was supposed to be working as though they worked together.

Instead of the reality that Garrus had shown up on his own.

The conscious Blood Pack merc was sweating now as he backed up further against the wall, eyes wide as dinner plates. “Shit, it's Archangel! I thought you died!”

Oh, so he had been on Omega. Must have been one of the lucky ones who wasn't put in the charge against the bridge or the chaos that followed.

“I'm tough like that. “Garrus approached, still aiming. At least he didn't say anything to his partner as he did. “So... information?”

There was a brief tremble, and then... “We're in an abandoned warehouse two blocks from here. You're gonna get killed if you try to start shit, we're-”

And then he was out cold thanks to a fist to the head. Garrus pulled back, looking less than amused. Then he holstered his gun and started tapping into his omni-tool. No doubt he was putting in the same call Alistair was – come pick these assholes up.

Would've been a normal mission except he was wearing a dress and petticoat.

“We should head over t-” Garrus finally gave him the once-over. Had he had eyebrows, they would've been in the stratosphere. “Uh... maybe we should do that after you get changed into something more appropriate for a fire fight.”

No shit.

Alistair felt his cheeks color as he started walking. “I was undercover.”

“I figured from the fact you're wearing something that looks like it came from the 19th century.”

His face got even redder, but the Spectre kept walking. This time, he had thought ahead and found a place to change without going back to the Normandy. It saved him time, and he didn't have to worry about messing up the dress by going in to a fight. After all, he eventually needed to return the thing... eventually.

He still hadn't gotten around to that.

“It's called lolita, and it's more the 20th and 21st.”

Garrus didn't exactly look convinced as they walked. “Right. And you're wearing it because...”

Alistair kept his head high. “It's an effective disguise. Nobody is going to believe somebody dressed like this is going to have a gun in their bag. Besides, it makes it easier to get information out of these guys when they think they're going to get me into bed.”

Which they weren't. He was gay, yes, but he had fucking standards thank you very much.

“Wouldn't think many guys would really be into this look, but I guess I don't really understand humans.”

The turian clearly wasn't a fan. It shouldn't have bothered Alistair – he wasn't exactly a fan either, after all most of the time he did this under someone else's needs – but something about it still rubbed him the wrong way as they walked through the quiet streets.

Like... people liked this style. They were helping him get info, he practically had to defend them for their valuable aid.

“It has its followers. Truth be told, I'll be happy when I can get back into my regular clothes.”

Garrus nodded as they approached the building Alistair had rented a room in for changing. Unsurprisingly, the clerk gave no fucks as a human and turian combo made their way through. Then it  was up the stairs, second door on the right.

The turian took the bed as he started to get changed. “I'm not even sure how you can walk in those shoes.”

“They're a lot better than heels, actually.” When the turian gave him a look, he rolled his eyes and added, “It's a long story, it involves high school and before I came out.”

Garrus at least had the sense to look embarrassed at his assumption. “I didn't... ok, fair. Sometimes I forget you didn't just pop out of the ground as Commander Shepard.”

Him and the Alliance both. It was a blessing some days.

Anyway, he had clothing to change out of. Soon both the shoes, socks, and his wig were off. Then it was the process of getting out of the dress and petticoat, both which proved daunting. He grumbled as he tried to reach for a button behind his back... it wasn't working.

Fuck.

“You alright there, Shepard?”

Alistair sighed as he shook his head. “I can't reach the damn button. Bo was the one who fixed it before I went out.”

Much to his surprise, the turian stood. Soon his talons were carefully picking the button apart and releasing him from his fabric prison. He was finally able to get out of the rest of his disguise which... left him in his underwear.

In front of a very hot turian.

He uh... didn't think this one through.

“Huh. So you really do have N7 tattooed there.”

The Spectre did his best to keep his tone even as he hid said tattoo with the waistband of his pants. “It was Bo's idea.”

“I have no doubt about that.” Garrus went back to sitting on the bed, looking for the most part awkward as fuck when Alistair glanced him in the mirror. That was probably due to the fact he was suited up and packed for a firefight. In a small room like that,it stuck out. “Anyway... what's with the dress anyway? Doesn't seem like something you'd buy on your own. Did Shepard get it for you?”

No... if Bo had bought it, it probably would've been pink. Pink wasn't really his color, what with him being a ginger and all. Well, some people could pull it off – he couldn't. He did better in darker cool tones.

Not that he had been dress shopping. Not exactly much time or interest there.

“No, it was a friend of hers. I originally got it to help them out. They were being harassed.” He pulled his shirt down, and then slid into his boots. After that, it was time to get back into his armor. This he started into with a practiced hand, almost on muscle memory.

He could probably do it with his eyes closed.

“And you kept it because...”

Alistair shrugged as he belted on his gauntlets. “She needed my help busting a red sand ring on the Citadel.”

Garrus sounded impressed the next time he spoke. “That was you? I heard about it from someone in C-SEC, but they hadn't mentioned their contact was someone in a frilly green dress.”

Guess they left that part out. Seemed like a C-SEC thing to do.

The Spectre finished putting his armor on after a few more seconds of work. Then he reached into his borrowed purse to retrieve his gun. The look on the turian's face was priceless as he holstered it at his side again.

It got even better when he grabbed the rest of his gear.

“You know, now I understand why women carry purses.”

That made Alistair chuckle as he switched out the band on his omni-tool to his heavy duty one that added a little extra wrist protection. “Honestly, same. I'm almost going to miss it, but at least I have my cargo pants.”

“But they hide your...”

Garrus had mostly been muttering under his breath at that point. Still, he had been close enough that it had been easy to pick up. Alistair was left pretty much mute, staring at the turian with wide eyes as he tried to figure out what he meant.

If he hadn't known better... well... no, he definitely knew better.  He must have been tired or something.

“Huh?”

The turian's mandibles twitched as he got up from the bed. “Nothing. Anyway, if you're going to keep doing this maybe you should return this dress and get your own.”

Now that made the Spectre laugh as they left the room behind. “Got any suggestions for me, Mr. Fashion Master? I'll let Bo know next time we're out and I just have to get a new coord.”

Shit, he was picking up the lingo. It was getting serious now.

Garrus didn't answer him immediately. Instead, it was pretty quiet as they exited back onto the street to follow up on their information. Alistair was starting to feel the familiar buzz under his skin as his biotics built up. He had been needing a release.

“I don't know, purple maybe?”

The turian's tone sounded not too sure. Regardless, it still stopped the Spectre in his tracks. He almost broke his neck whipping it around to get an eyeful of his mission partner. No doubt if Garrus could have blushed, he would have been doing it. His body language was embarrassment x 100.

“Huh?”

“Purple... might work. Or dark blue. Green wasn't really your color. And maybe not so... much.” He made a vague hand gesture. “You know?”

He was not having this conversation.

“Yeah, I guess OTT isn't my thing...” he shook his head. “Can we just go do the thing we're good at? This is a conversation neither of us probably want to have.”

Given how much Garrus relaxed at his words, it was the right decision. At least now both could relax as they headed into a potential brawl with a bunch of mercs that had no idea what was about to come after them. Talk about stress relief.

But damn if he wasn't going to be kicking himself about this later. Maybe knocking a few heads around would help.