Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by GreggHL, May 7, 2012.
like getting shot at?
because i really want to see udina get shot at.
Now now, maybe Gregg will give Udina character outside of "Guy working against you who turns to Cerberus and gets shot"
oh no, i didn't mean shot at by shepard.
i want to see udina get into a firefight, just to see how well he holds up.
also, if he takes a winging shot to the arm or such, i won't shed a tear.
Councillor David Anderson stares. Save for the slowly rising motion of his eyebrow, his face is expressionless. His lips are tight, his shoulders straight and back, his hands folded behind him. Slowly, Joker bends down, ending the impromptu piggy back ride and letting Kelly Chambers climb off and hurry back to her station.
Slowly, Joker straightens up, saluting. Anderson nods, and watches as Joker walks, not hobbles but walks towards the cockpit.
“What. The. Hell.”
The airlock cycles, and he turns on his heel to find Shepard walking in. She stops, clicks her heels and salutes. Not missing a beat, Anderson returns the gesture, the three other women with her standing straight.
“As you were,” Anderson says, “Shepard. Sorry we didn't have time to catch up before Sparatus dragged you off.”
Shepard nods. The other three women walk off, Anderson keeping a wary eye on Miranda as she disappears into the elevator. Nodding, he begins walking. Shepard follows. They pass the map, passing through the doors and into the empty armory. Folding his hands behind him, Anderson lets out a breath, pacing around the table at the center of the room.
“I've been contacted by Cerberus before.” He shakes his head. “Lawson was heading a project to revive you. Glad to see that wasn't necessary. Did Hannah check in with you?”
“You could say that.” Jane smirks. “We chatted, then she had to head back to her new ship.”
“The Orizaba. Fine ship. Good crew.” Anderson nods. “You're going after the Shadow Broker. We need evidence of the Reapers if we're going to convince the Council about them. And I'm sending someone with you to make sure we get the evidence we need.”
He continues pacing. Taps his fingers on the table, he purses his lips and stares at her.
“Shepard, I'm sure Sparatus explained it.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I believed you. Hackett believed you. But you've served under us, so we know you better than the Council or anyone else. But you tend to cause explosions wherever you go.”
She nods. Shrugs, and sighs.
“Well, to be honest, I kind of got tired of the explosions by Ilos.”
That gets a smile on the old man's face. “Good. The problem is, most people don't want to believe what you said. So you need to find evidence to convince them. When you raid the Broker's base, you need to find something that will convince the most cynical, jaded bureaucrat on the Citadel.”
The door cycles open. Jane turns, and the smile disappears from her face.
“Lucky for you, the most cynical, jaded bureaucrat on the Citadel works for me.”
“Technically, Anderson, I work with you, as the Councillor is separate from the diplomatic corps. As I will work with Commander Shepard.”
His white robes are traded in for a simple blue and black uniform. There is no rank insignia on his collar, but she's pretty sure he's going to be ordering her around.
The gray haired ambassador straightens up, folding his hands behind him. The year has been kinder to him than she anticipated. There aren't any new frown lines, and the bags under his eyes have lessened. His hair isn't any whiter, and the constant twitch she would notice on his lip is gone.
“Commander Shepard,” Donnel Udina says, “I'll set up my things in the research laboratory on the other side of the ship. If no one minds-”
“Shepard Commander. We have accessed data regarding Shadow Broker moles aboard Lazarus Project.”
Anderson, on instinct, goes for his hip, but quickly finds he is not, in fact, armed. Jane rolls her eyes, and Udina turns to come face to face with a Geth. The old ambassador blinks, sidelong glancing a Shepard, and shakes his head.
“You had a turian, Benezia's daughter, a quarian and a Krogan on your crew. Matter of time before you recruited a Geth.”
The petals around the geth's head extend.
“You do not react similar to other organics.” The light twitches towards Shepard. “You are Udina Donnel Ambassador. We are Wuffles, a terminal of the Geth.”
Udina stares at the machine. He turns to Shepard. Then back to Wuffles.
“Shepard named you?”
“Makes sense, then.”
And with that, Udina walks out, the door sliding shut behind him.
Udina has probably seen things, so this is par for the course.
Also, he has a point. Shep tends to be a crazy-magnet.
my post got quoted! well referenced.
This never gets old. I like this Udina!
I've been looking at this thread for ages, but the fact that I've never heard of Exalted kept me from reading it. This morning, I was so bored I had to give it a try.
And- wow. Just wow.
I also irritated my flatmates with my maniacal grin and hysterical laughter. Trust me, no-one appreciates being woken up on a sunday morning by their cackling flatmate.
You, sir, win at everything. Forever.
I'm almost too afraid to find out what you're gonna do with Grunt- or the scientist who created him.
Grunt? DoctorDogGirl has dubbed him Captain Tuchanka.
Udina's gone round the bend and come back to "Yeah... figured that would happen. So what?"
Udina wins the prize for most jaded human ever.
Well, I believe that was one the qualification they were looking for for this particular job.
Is the Shadow Broker even going to be there when they arrive? I mean, at this point everyone and his dog knows Shepard's gunning for the Shadow Broker.
Also, Udina's response to Wuffles is gold.
This one just seems more awesome!
And with that Donnel Udina establishes himself as the most jaded guy on the Citadel. Who's willing to bet he's the Eclipse?
oh god. every time wuffles shows up, all i can think of is how stupid he/it must look with a big'ole fake ass stuck on him/it
The fingers brush the teal colored face. These aren't her fingers. There's too few digits and the joints are wrong, but these are her fingers. One finger under her chin, tilting tired eyes upwards. A quick reinforcement of the geas upon the asari and the fatigue, the pleading in the pale eyes vanishes. The asari sits, as commanded, the white gown loose around her but hugging at the chest and hips. The teal skinned woman looks up, her eyes still and calm. The chair turns, and faces the large covered tank at the center of the white room.
“Experiment log.” The voice is accented. Thick, heavy. The words are clear, though. “Subject...name?”
“Jaheira.” The asari's voice is robotic. Robbed of emotion.
“Jaheira. Matriarch stage. Has successfully reproduced via Ziao, Maw spore, captured Husk, Collector-husk, and Salarian.”
Padded sandals on the metal floor, and the two fingered hand rests on the cover. “Early death of Husk and Collector-husk young. Melding does not work with Reaper-infected life forms. Continuing experiment with semi-sentient life forms. Today's subject; dominant life form from Kahje.”
The cover is pulled off. Inside the tank, the bright pink shape flips about, dragging tentacles ending in two fingers behind it. The light at the tip of its front horn flickers as it faces him(?), flickering in excitement, in wonder. And then growing dim as he(?) places a geas upon it.
A motion of two fingered hands and the primitive turns to face Jaheira.
“Jaheira.” The voice is heavy. Weight behind it, like a bludgeon upon the mind. It takes a moment for Jane to recognize is this her voice? “Meld.”
The eyes of the asari go black. Blue mist forms around the four fingered hands, a twitch on the corner of the woman's mouth as jagged white bursts of light crack the air around the chair, forming lines which he(?) can see leading into the tank.
It is a beautiful thing, he(?) muses. An entire reproductive system wired to use the mind, to use biotics. It took him (?) a long time to perfect it. Entire generations died before the work was done, but now there is only experimentation and the perfecting of this simple, elegant system.
Jaheira screams. The asari slumps forward in the chair, the blue glow disappearing, the tank filling with purple and orange as the hanar twitches and goes limp.
“Results. Meld possible, but hanar sentience so far unable to handle stress.” Tapping a console, a cross section of the asari appears. “Results negative. Possible, but negative.”
The sound of sandals brushing against the floor, the view shifting away from the flushing tank, towards the asari, slowly stirring and sitting upright, streams of tears running down teal cheeks.
The two digit hands are brown, streaked with gray as they cup her cheeks from behind, the tentacles crowning the asari twitching as the fingers brush against the back of her neck. The quick thump thump of the heart against the palms, a relaxing of the geas as the shoulders of the asari tremble.
“Perhaps the Hanar should be uplifted, as well. They have flocked towards the beacon left on Kahje. In time, they will worship us. An excellent servant race.”
Fingers brush against the asari's lips. The lower lips tremble. Memory comes unbidden, back when this line of experimentation began, two centuries ago. There are still experiments schedules with the other six in this batch, however.
“Jaheira. Are you able to meld with a second experiment?” The shoulders of the asari shake. He (?) reinforces the geas. “Answer honestly.”
“No, Professor Athame.”
“Very well.” Hands move down to her shoulders. “Up against the tank, this time. Remove your gown.”
A nod, and Jaheira stands, walking to to the tank, bare blue feet against the white floor as she moves her hips ever so slightly, just as she has been trained to do. She turns, face blank, and moves her hands to the back of the gown.
Which is when the tank shatters.
Attention turns from her, the geas releasing as the asari screams, ducking behind the console next to the tank. Instead, attention turns to the door, and the smoking barrel of the pistol in the intruder's hand. Skin gray and white, armor red, angular, marked with scratches and cracks of years of use. Four eyes gold and black, hourglass irises narrowed and brow creased.
“An intruder. Interesting.” Knuckles crack. “A soldier. I am Athame.”
“I know.” The voice is harsh. Sharp. “It has taken my entire life to track you down. And I see what you have done to this world.”
The soldier steps over the threshold of the doorway. Two green crystals dangle from his belt.
“Lucen and Janiri,” the soldier says, “We are the last Protheans on this world. I have killed your army, and killed your Circle.”
Tented fingers press against his (?) lips. Eyes narrow.
“Impressive. You're mortal. Kneel.”
The geas hits like a physical thing. The soldier pauses. And smiles.
“Janiri taught them to farm,” he says, “Food. Drugs. Opiates. He has spent the past two hundred years in a stupor. And he smiled when I took the blade to his throat.”
The geas does nothing. The soldier resists by will alone.
“Lucen taught them laws. He built a great city, with a forum. He taught them of consequences, of rules, of punishments. He introduced them to civilization, and then turned it into his own sick amusement.” The soldier's eyes narrow. “He held trials. Accused children of crimes and sentenced them to death, and asked their mothers what they would do to spare them. Depraved, horrible things. He had his own soldiers broken under his will to enact these...punishments. And sometimes, he would join in.”
He holds one crystal in his hand. A smile crosses his lips.
“He died slow.” The thumb caresses the crystal, rolling it between two fingers. “I shot his knees out with a sniper rifle. Killed his men while he panicked, then broke his spine with a club. I cut out his tongue, and turned him over to his subjects for judgement.”
Golden eyes glance over to the cowering Jaheira, then back at him (?). “A mother who had lost three children to these 'trials', despite the horrible things she let Lucen and his men do, was given the privilege of ending him. She cut off his offending organ and beat him to death with it. I watched, and trapped his gift.”
He holds up the crystal. He (?) recognizes the thing within. Ancient prothean technology. One of their greatest creations.
“Athame,” the soldier says, “You have abandoned the Empire in its time of need. You have set yourself up as a god on Thessia, and mutilated the biology here for your own sick amusement. For this, and much more, I am here to kill you, and seal your gift within.”
The hand, his (?) hand, darts out and grabs the soldier by the throat, lifting him up. There is no fear in the soldier's eyes. There is no fear at all, even if there should be.
“You're not afraid?”
“You are a great man who has outlived his greatness,” the soldier says, “And if I must sacrifice my own soul to kill you, I will.”
The soldier breathes in sharply, glares, and spits in his (?) eye. Vision blurs and the soldier drops, a hand wiping his (?) face, to see the soldier kneeling. And the crystal shattered upon the floor.
The soldier breathes, his second breath. Eyes open and glow like molten gold. Rising, the air shakes, the world shifts, adjusting to the gravity that such a being now exerts.
“I am Javik,” the soldier hisses, “Exemplar of Vengeance. The avenging voice of our slain people. And I-”
The glowing circle bursts into life upon his brow.
“Am the Dawn.”
And Jane opens her eyes sitting up on her bed.
“What the Hell.”
So the gods were assholes....
I like how you had the gifts the gods gave the Asari and turned them on themselves. Great power and no responsibility.
I echo this sentiment.
...Javik so badass that he can, as a mere (Heroic)Mortal withstand the geas of a possibly elder Solar... then exalts to finish him?
Edit - that is AFTER killing two other Solars with just basic skill and weapons.
. . .
So... Janes shard was previously in Athame, who was a giant asshole and evilutionary biologist of a level that makes Red Mage looks like a rank amateur crossbreeding houseflies.
The Asari didn't originally reproduce by melding, which means that there may have at one point been male Asari (or complementary gender(s), or Asari were hermaphrodites, or something) which would likely have been eliminated by Athame&co. Hell, that makes Uplift-level (forbidden) total genetic rewrites look par for the course.
Athame was gunned down by Javik, who intentionally exalted himself into a Dawn to finish the work.
The Protheans had what could best be described as miniature, one-shard Jade Prisons to capture/carry/use shards at will.
WHAT THE UNHOLY F***
No, he Exalted somewhere along the line. Exaltation... is something that tends to be hard to miss.
Protheans knew how to trap exaltations. Javik killed Lucin and Janiri and trapped their shards, and broke one of the prisons so he could Exalt and kill Athame.
Seems pretty straightforward to me. Shepard's exaltation once belonged to Liara's goddess. And Javik is a confirmed solar who killed him.
...holy shit. Mind=BLOWN.
Also, I'm now unsure how Javik will react when he meets Shepard...
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