I drew this last night and still find it funny this morning, so it gets posted!
To explain: I played the Lair of the Shadow Broker yesterday and read everybody’s info and stuff, and Grunt’s just made me laugh way too hard. He basically only has search histories and at first they’re looking up the history of his people and humans and great historical figures and then in the way that happens to everyone he just sort of gets off track and his final searches just become
SEARCH:animal fights/MODIFIED/large predators
SEARCH:tryannsauros wrex/ERASED/earth lizard wrex
And I dunno why, but I instantly imagined him just playing with dinosaur toys. So then when it comes to his purchase history…
PURCHASE 8856- UG-972:Captain Cosmic Action Figures “Garr the Krogan Battlemaster” with real smash your enemies action!
And so it had to be done.
I may have even only used my own figures for references for this.
Posts tagged ME2
In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence.
Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!
“How many of those have you had?”
Shepard eyes Jack blearily as she slides onto the stool beside her. She had hoped no one would find her in Afterlife; maybe Aria had called someone since she’d been here so long. The bitch owed her one, why couldn’t she just meddle in someone else’s affairs for once?
“I don’t remember.” She eventually answers Jack, signaling the barkeeper for another round.
“I think you’ve had too many.”
Jack takes the glass before Shepard can grab it, which only serves to prove that she’s indeed had too many. More than one too many.
“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”
Jack shrugs and pushes the glass into her hand. “You’re right. It’s not.”
They sit there in silence while Shepard continues her bender, finding it harder and harder to keep her perch but finding it harder and harder to remember why she’d come in the first place.
It takes a while but when finally she can’t remember anymore she fishes for her credit chip only to have the bartender wave her away, “It’s on the house.”
She’s not too drunk to know that’s Aria’s doing and she tilts her head in the direction of the Queen’s platform. A rough salute is the best she can manage as thanks.
She doesn’t make it back to the Normandy before she’s puking her guts out in a trash bin—who knew they even had those on Omega?—but Jack just waits for her. Holds her hair even. In between gags, Shepard swears vehemently that she’s going to shave it all off.
She vomits again then groans. “I am.”
It takes them an hour to get back to the Normandy and when they do Chakwas gives her some injection that makes her feel better, but not well. Jack escorts her upstairs, sending Chambers scurrying away with a scowl.
When Shepard wakes up the next morning, Jack is sprawled on her couch, watching her.
She tries to find something in her that gives a shit but the splitting headache makes it impossible. The pain is welcome. It ‘s a relief. She deserves it.
“What was up with you last night?” Jack asks, and she remembers bits and pieces; Jack sitting with her while she drank. Then helping her back to the Normandy. Holding her hair while she puked. Shepard didn’t want to tell her but she owed her. That was big for Jack.
“I was trying to forget.”
She doesn’t look confused. She looks like she understands the feelings. “Trying to forget what?”
Virmire. Kaidan dying. Ash’s harsh words on Horizon…. harsh words she had deserved. “A lot of terrible decisions.”
Jack shifts, looks uncomfortable, like she wants to ask more but wants to leave at the same time. “Did it work?”
Shepard’s quiet for a long moment before she looks up at the young woman across from her.
“Only for a minute.”
The thing about Shepard is, his best friend has the thickest skin in the galaxy. It might as well be made out of steel; Garrus barely winced when he took a missile to the side of his face.
‘Scars heal, Shepard,’ he says. ‘I’d think you, of all people, would know about that better than anyone else.’
What he means is, Shepard’s tougher than he looks—his skin thicker than it feels. It’s a pep-talk, Vakarian style, coming out twisted from a healing jaw. Or maybe he’s just trying to point out that the one thing humans have going for them isn’t how quick they are to break, but how easy it is to stitch them up again after.
Can’t stitch up a turian.
Shepard rubs his jaw in the morning and thinks he can feel fewer scars there when he does the same at night. His team doesn’t say anything about a quiet profile or a soft mouth in a soft face, what he’s looking at when they look to him.
And he never asks Anderson if he feels, sometimes, like he’s still a dumb kid staring at the stars.
‘Maybe you should be more of a badass,’ Garrus says. ‘Badasses have scars. It’s how you know they’re badass in the first place.’
Shepard laughs at that, only a chuckle, the places where the scars should be tugging at skin, hidden between muscle and bone.
‘I used to be a role model like you,’ Garrus adds.
But then he took a missile to the face.
The old jokes. The new colonies. The horizon.
Then, because there are enough moons out there already, Shepard stops mooning, wearing his mouth and jaw like a scar, his armor like a weapon, even if the heart under there is still in stasis.
The most eloquently written part of Mass Effect 2
Also the fandom’s reaction to the end of Mass Effect 3.
Ahahaha, Legion, you crack me up!
“Shepared-Commander orders us to statistically probable death an average of 2.73 instances per day. Rounded down.”
Rounded down. LMAO.
Tali fixing Legion’s lightbulb face, because of wonderful geth+quarian feelings.
SCREAMS THIS IS SO CUTE ;u;
i should make an oliximity version of this}}
eeeeeeeeeeeihhhh this is adorable
Joker: About the ones you went out with last..
hmmm my tali/joker senses are tingling