#illusivesoulwriting

[illusivesoul]

Morinth and Warlord Okeer

Was thinking about what some truly renegade companions would be in ME2, and to me, the perfect renegade squad would be Morinth and Okeer, the warlord who created Grunt. Imagine a renegade Shepard walking somewhere accompanied by an Ardat Yakshi and a krogan warlord.

Problem with Morinth is that she has almost no content for her ingame and then you fight and kill her in ME3 cause she becomes a banshee offscreen, so theres pretty much no reason to chose her instead of Samara, but if she had gotten more development and more interesting writing, I feel she could have been a quite interesting character.

Maybe she could talk about her life on the run, how life on the monastery was more brutal and harsh than it seemed, how cruel Justicars are, etc. Obviously what she says would all be questionable cause she is known for manipulating and lying, but I feel she had more potential. Her loyalty mission could involve her wanting to break her sisters and other Ardat Yakshi out of the monastery, having to fight the guards and staff there and at the end maybe having a boss fight against an asari justicar. And it'd be like with Zaeed's mission, where you can choose not to help her and fight her (and maybe even leave her to be taken prisioner by a Justicar, which would pretty much be a death sentence).

The other one is Warlord Okeer. As much as me and almost everyone else in the fandom loves Grunt, Grunt's whole character is represented very well by his quote "I fight, doesn't matter who". Hes a literal grunt whose only interest are to fight.

Okeer, on the otherhand, could have given us a new perspective from the krogan. He's the first and probably the only krogan we meet that doesn't want to cure the genophage, but instead use Grunt as template to create basically krogan super soldiers, who wouldn't rely on hordes like they did during the Rachni Wars and Krogan Rebellions, but instead be a virtually unstopppable force in combat. Like a krogan version of the asari commandos.

He would tell us about what it was like to live and fight during the Krogan Rebellions, how he started his experiments, talk to him more about the genophage (I would love to hear him talking with Mordin about it, especially if you took them to their respective loyalty missions), we would know what has he done that made his name a very hated one like Wrex says when we go to Tuchanka and there'd be so many potential interactions he could have had there. I can see him sassing Wrex with things like "Your father was more of a krogan than you'll ever be" and Wrex basically having to stop himself from killing him just cause he is with Shepard.

With Wreav however, it'd be the complete opposite. Wreav talks "nicely" about Okeer when he's leader, mentioning how him being so hated could earn more influence for Urdnot. Maybe after the Suicide Mission, if he survives, Okeer says how Wreav offered him a position in Tuchanka as head scientist, and how he looks forward to meeting Shepard on the battlefield one day.

Then you find him again in ME3 and depending if we helped him or not, he could have achieved his vision of the krogan super soldier and is ready to unleash them on the Reapers (and later on on the rest of the galaxy) or his research could be more delayed if we didnt do his loyalty mission. And his krogan soldiers give more war assets to the krogan in general, and it'd add more weight of wether you cure the genophage or not knowing the danger that Wreav and Okeer represent.

I also feel they would both encourage Shepard to keep the Collector Base at the end of the game, seeing it as necessary to use it to defeat the Reapers.

I feel there was a lot of potential for these 2, and I wish we could have seen it ingame.

[illusivesoulgaming]

"Directions"

Yesterday I saw an re music video on Youtube and one of the comments said "The alternate reality where the Raccoon City outbreak never happened". That was my inspiration for writing this short little thing.

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Summary: "In a world where the Raccoon City outbreak never happened, a cop in the subway gets asked for directions"

Relationships: Leon/Claire

Word Count: 699

Read on AO3

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The subway never had many people at this hour. All the better for him, he thought as he rubbed his eyes. The hangover from last night’s party with Jim was killing him. Downing half a vodka bottle after losing a coin toss didn’t seem like a good idea today, but it had certainly seemed good enough for him last night.

“Train arriving soon”

The computerized voice and the short jingle made him rub the sides of his head. Everyday he spent posted to the subway, the more he wished to get out of there. But rookies went wherever they were sent, not where they wanted to be.

“Just a few weeks and then we’ll have you in the streets. You’ll like the subway, Leon. Not a lot goes on there” Marvin had said to him. 

“ “Not a lot goes on there” Understatement of the century” the cop said as he stretched his arms, barely containing a yawn as he did. Still had to keep the appearance of professionalism.

“Why does a city of a hundred thousand even have a subway?” Leon said to himself as he watched the few people that went in and out of the arriving trains. There were a lot more around rush hour, but still, he didn’t think it justified the number of trains or even the existence of the system in the city. “And Warren said they’re going to expand it even more next year. Must be laundering money or something. I should look into it”

“Give it up, mayor Warren! You’re under arrest” Leon said with his gun drawn as the door from the mayor’s office fell to the floor after he kicked it, a squad of police officers and the S.T.A.R.S unit behind him backing him up as he entered the office “You’re nothing but Umbrella’s puppet, taking their dirty money in exchange for letting them do as they please with this town, but it ends now!”

And just as he was exiting the building with the mayor in cuffs, ready to give his statement to the waiting reporters and their flashing cameras, a strong pull in his shoulder snapped him back to reality and out from his daydreaming.  

“Hello? Civilian contacting planet cop. Anyone in there receiving me?” 

Leon shook his head as he turned to see a redheaded woman in a leather jacket that left her toned arms exposed, black fingerless gloves and long brown boots staring into his soul with a very annoyed expression set on her face.

“Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?”

“Glad to see the city officers being so aware of their surroundings. Only had to stand here for a minute before you noticed. Do you know what station goes to the police department? I’m going to see my brother?”

“Take the train to Redstone Street Station. Once you exit, it’s only a short walk to the department”

“Good. Thanks” the woman replied “By any chance, do you happen to know if Chris Redfield is currently there?”

“Sure is. At least was when I left 2 hours ago” Mentioning the time made him remember all the hours he still had ahead of him before his shift ended. He complained mentally as usual. "Huh, did Chris ever mention he had a sister? Can't remember"

A bright white light began filling the tunnel, and shortly after the big red train arrived and stopped at the station.

The woman stepped into the train, and shortly before it closed, Leon spoke.

“Hey, tell Chris he still owes me 5 bucks”

The woman chuckled “Will do. He owes me money too. What’s your name?”

But before he could answer, the doors slid close and the train moved away from the station.

“Meh, whatever. I’ll tell Chris the daydreaming blondie cop at the subway station told me that you owe him money” Claire said to herself as she watched Leon slowly fading away into the distance as the train entered the tunnel.

“He’s cute. In that dorky way kind of cute” she thought as she sat down and turned on her walkman, put on her headphones and lost herself in the music as the train took her to her destination.

[illusivesoul]

WIP Wednesday

Was tagged by @p0lkadotdotdot . Thank you!

I'll tag @judithofcerberus @slayerdurge @mtreebeardiles and @celemee . Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

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The throne room shone brightly with the fire from the lamps and with the moonlight that crept through the large windows. During the day, the noises of the crowds in Denerim could be heard as an echo in the distance, but this far into the night, an everpresent silence reigned. This suited Zevran just fine as he rested his head on Alistair's chest, the sound of his heartbeat returning to its normal pace filling his ear like the sweetest melody he had ever heard. The elf toyed with the man's chest hair, seeing how it glistened with sweat from their exertions. And with the man's arm wrapped protectively around his head, Zevran smiled. It felt like home, somewhere he knew there would always be warmth and love waiting for him, even if the times they could actually be together had become more scarce as the years had passed.

"Had you told me that the throne was so comfortable, I would have proposed we do this sooner. I would have helped you take it sooner"

Alistair let out a soft chuckle, wiping some of the sweat from his forehead as he spoke "Having sex was the last thing on my mind all the times I've been here. The room can be quite nice when its not filled with Banns and Arls telling you how other Banns and Arls are the biggest threat to Ferelden since the Blight"

"Still better than politics in Antiva. You see most of these?" The elf parted from Alistair's chest and pointed to several old scars that crossed his torso "Some are from my former brethren in the Crows, but most of the others I got them because of nobility fighting nobility. The Crows would be out of work without the ego and pride of princes and merchants"

Alistair traced one of the scars with his thumb, running it across the elf's stomach, seeing all the new wounds the elf had gotten in the years since the Blight before moving his hand upwards -the healed wounds being a testament of Zevran's war against the organization he once belonged to- until finally cupping Zevran's face. Dispersing the thoughts of concern that were filling his mind, Alistair spoke "I only like politics when its you talking about it"

Zevran planted a kiss on the man's palm as he smiled deviously "You should hear me reciting poetry. I have learned even more verses since our time at camp"

Alistair captured Zevran's lips in a deep kiss, the elf humming appreciatively as the man's beard tickled his face.

"And I'd love to hear those verses, but in my quarters this time. I keep expecting one of the guards to come across those noisy and oversized doors. I should get them replaced for more decent ones"

[illusivesoul]

WIP Wednesday

Was tagged by @morganaseren Thank you!

I'll tag @uchidachi @marythegizka @celemee and @daisywalletchains. Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

This is from a oneshot of me giving more of a backstory to Marjolaine and Justinia.

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Running from a life and burdens of a past that had left her with enough scars for daring to want more from life, she had found herself in Valence, a place where her name didn’t draw as much attention  and ire as it did in Val Royeaux, and she had committed fully to her role, losing herself in the monotone and simple ways of life in the Chantry and its bureaucracy, slowly rising through the ranks as seasons passed and mistakes were sidelined but never forgotten, renouncing all possessions and committing her life to the service of the Maker.

And then she met her.

Hair as dark as a moonless night, eyes that looked past the facade she had built, a voice that seemed to reach the deepest parts of her,  lips that curled into the most inviting of smiles. Marjolaine was the embodiment of all she tried to leave behind, the woman she had wanted to be, the idealized image of what a master bard who commanded the Game should be.

And she had melted under her words and touch like a hot knife in butter, even while knowing the interest was feigned, like any form of affection that came from a bard. Still, she found herself unable to push her away, her heart still skipping a beat every time the woman snuck onto the Chantry late at night to discuss politics, tales and stories of the Game, and more, so much more. It felt like… youth.

The truth and lies rolled off Marjolaine’s tongue and lips, and the woman seeped into Dorothea like a poison, flowing into her veins and her soul, making Dorothea forget herself in more ways than one. She did not care that Marjolaine always arrived smelling like someone else, sometimes a man's cologne, sometimes a woman's perfume. She only cared that Marjolaine made her feel alive in a way no one else had for so long, and all she asked for was a document here, a document there, Harmless things, she had thought. Naive, just as in the days when she gained the scars that now dotted her body. But that had always been the allure of Marjolaine. She brought back the thrill from those days… and its dangers.

So many documents from the inner workings of the Chantry, copied in secret under the dark of night, had found their way to Marjolaine's hands thanks to Dorothea, and the love Marjolaine professed that she felt for the woman seemed to only grow with each secret the revered mother passed into her hands.

[illusivesoul]

Sunday Snippet (or Another Day or Such)

Was tagged by @slayerdurge. Thank you!

I'll tag @nerdyspeechy @laelior @ravenwatches and @vulpixelates . Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

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The Reaper horn rang out across the field, followed shortly after by the metallic ring of its energy laser.

Getting out of the geth vehicle, only the vague outline of the Reaper and its red eye could be seen, like a monster coming from the dark, clouds of dust enveloping as its laser hitting the ground and the shells fired by the quarian fleet ripped apart the very soil of Rannoch. 

Ashley tightened her grip on her rifle, the sinking feeling on her stomach growing more and more knowing somewhere down there amidst that chaos, Shepard was tangling with that robotic behemoth.

“If anyone can pull through that, it's Shepard. Don’t worry, Ash. She survived dealing with the Council, she can survive this” Tali’s attempt to diffuse the tension with an attempt of humor was betrayed by the barely concealed worry in her voice.

Ashley threw her a quick empty smile and a silent nod. She closed her eyes as the sound of the Reaper’s gun reached her ears again, her body starting to tremble like the ground beneath her feet.

[illusivesoul]

WIP Whenever

Was tagged by @slayerdurge . Thank you :)

I'll tag @her-gracious-lady-herald-bits1 @rosella-writes @marythegizka and @nonbinarywardenamell . Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

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“Thank you, Zevran. We’ll be right out” Leliana replied.

“Of course, if you were to allow me to take a look, or perhaps even to join, I’m sure I could use my charms on Alistair to have him stay for a little longer on his own while we…”

“Have you ever had the pleasure of being frozen solid with magic, Zevran? It's quite a pleasant experience, I’m sure. Would you prefer to return to your tent or do you want to experience the thrill of your flesh being turned to ice?”

“I’m always open to new experiences, but the message is clearly understood, my dearest Wynne. Ah well, guess I’ll just rest alongside good Alistair then”

As the women stepped out of the tent, they saw Alistair waving at them nervously as he clumsily finished adjusting the lower part of his armor, while Zevran cleaned his lips and fixed his hair.

Leliana’s brow raised with as her lips curved upwards “Seems you were engaged in an amusing conversation of your own with Alistair”

“The night is the best time to talk, and Alistair indulged me with tales of his wardens, and I indulged him with some storytelling of my own. My stories about Antiva left him curling his toes with excitement”

“Oh, sweet Andraste” Wynne shook her exasperatedly at the elf's words as Leliana giggled.

“Tis’ a most amusing security this camp ours has. One should thank fate and destiny that darkspawn haven’t stormed us while we sleep given how “alert" our guards of the night have been" Morrigan slowly stepped out of the darkness of the nearby forests, coming out from the shadows with her arms crossed and an all too familiar frown on her face.

[illusivesoul]

Snippet Sunday

Was tagged by @slayerdurge Thank you!

I'll tag @mtreebeardiles @celemee @morganaseren and @ratchsellsfornax. Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

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Alistair’s hands moved along the elf’s toned back, his fingers softly tracing the old and healed dents that dotted the skin, marks serving as testament to a less than peaceful life.

“Your back looks like a soldier’s. You got as many scars as some of the more senior wardens I've met”

“And here I was expecting you to compliment my toned legs or my incredible flexibility. But no, it's the scars that caught your eye. Should have expected this from a warden” Zevran sighed in an exaggerated manner, biting his finger to avoid laughing as soon as he heard the panic in Alistair’s voice.

 “I did not mean it like that! I don’t want to imply that… There is certainly no doubt as to how attractive you are, and… well, you know how much I enjoy all the things you do, but I wouldn’t have expected an assassin to have these many scars. I thought you were more of a strike without being seen and avoiding combat and so”

Zevran leaned back into the warden, enjoying the sensation of the man’s chest against his back. “A Crow without scars wouldn’t be a Crow. Most of them are from my training, and we are trained to know that while combat is best avoided, it is inevitable at times. So yes, a few swords and daggers from angry nobles and guards have sometimes left their signature on my skin over the years. Thankfully I am as good fighting as I am handsome”

“You mean you are good at hitting from behind while Oghren, Sten and me have to endure the enemy onslaughts”

Zevran's brow raised as his lips curved into a smile "If anyone would know just how effective I am at striking things from the rear, it would be you, my dear Alistair”

The warden’s cheeks reddened, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding looking at the elf in that way that Zevran found so adorable, making him feel a comforting warmth in his chest that Zevran had not expected to feel again. “The shadows don’t provide as much safety as you think, my dear. Just look at our dear Leliana. Being a bard is somewhat safer to being a Crow, but she has got more than enough scars of her own, some running quite deep indeed. I am most certain she did not got those in the Chantry, unless the Revered Mothers here in Ferelden are more fun than what I've been told"

“What? I haven't’ seen a single one on her”

“You need to sharpen your eye, my friend. She goes to great lengths to conceal them, but I’ve learned to notice these things. The marks are there, hidden under powders and creams, but it's like hiding dirt under the rug. You can remove it from sight, but it’ll still be there”

“I think you just spend too much time looking at Leliana”

The elf laughed heartily “My eyes are captivated by beauty, and I am but a prisoner to their whims”

[illusivesoul]

Five Six Sentence Friday.

Was tagged by @vorchagirl . Thank you!

I'll tag @marythegizka @briannasroger and @vosquitransitis . Only if you feel like doing this, of course.

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"I assume you already know what will happen in the battle tomorrow"

"A warden will die killing the Archdemon" Leliana answered quickly, as if the quicker the words were utter, the faster the notion would be gone from her mind.

"If one of them even reaches the Archdemon, that is. The odds of Riordan, Loghain and Aeducan slaying the dragon and the 3 of them not all dying are... remote. But I can offer a way where neither of them has to die. Our higly esteemed dwarven leader and I don't quite get along, which is why I will need your help convincing her, if I assume correctly that you don't want to spend the rest of your days composing sour songs while laying on top of her grave, that is"

Morrigan couldn't help but feel a tinge of pain in her chest at the verbal barb she had just uttered at Leliana, but she knew she needed to touch the bard's emotions and feelings for this to work.