For the lyric prompt: "I might walk home alone/But my faith in love is still devout" or "See, I’ve already waited too long/And now my hope is gone" for Matty/Ash? (If you feel like it. XD)
Yay, thank you for the prompt! (Wild to be doing Mass Effect writing again after so long. c: )
"See, I’ve already waited too long... And now my hope is gone..."
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Ash sits in one of the waiting areas of Gagarin Station's makeshift field hospital and tries not to fidget too much. Military discipline feels very far away when the only activity available is watching the orderlies slowly bring in the wounded from the battle on Earth. There's a muted scent of blood to the air that has lingered for days, but that's not the real reason for the sick feeling in her stomach.
They all sort of hoped, when the Normandy limped back to Gagarin - after the Crucible fired, after the chaotic crash into the jungle and the frantic field repairs to get them spaceborne again - that they would find Matty alive and waiting for them. Joker made a few comments about it, here and there - "He's fine, right? He was alive to pull the trigger. No way the old man would let a little knock like that take him out." Even Ash caught herself hoping, now and then - daring to believe that after everything, there could be a happy ending.
But of course, they all knew the truth, deep down.
According to Hackett, the last contact with Matty was aboard the Citadel, just before the Crucible went off. "He sounded bad," the Admiral had said grimly. "Weak as hell. Started mumbling stuff that didn't make sense, right before the signal cut out. I almost tried to send a few fighters in after him, and then the whole thing blew out. And, well, you saw the rest."
"Yes, sir," Ash had answered tonelessly. She remembered that rolling tide of red light chasing them through the relay and the brutal knowledge that they had to run, had to leave him behind. "Thank you, sir."
So why is she here, watching the endless parade of dead and wounded?
Hope is a funny thing. The thing with feathers/that perches in the soul... She held onto hers for quite a long time, but it has gone silent now, in spite of Emily Dickinson's assurances. She's just here, watching, waiting - perhaps to remind herself that even though Matty is gone, others survived the cataclysm and will be able to see this strange new world on the other side of the war...
Her breath catches in her throat and she hunches over in her seat. As that thought passed through her mind it suddenly became real in a whole new way. Matthias Shepard is dead, the news reports will say, and there will be memorials and celebrations of his bravery, the soldier that led the charge for the galaxy's freedom and died for it. But Matty is gone -- that is the truth that she has to carry in her heart, and grieve alone for the man that so few got to see.
The man with soft brown eyes staring over the top of a book at her when she thought he wasn't looking. The man who excitedly told her about the discussions he'd had with scientists about his ideas for biotech and prosthetics. The man who gifted her poetry and wrote his own scribbled on the margins of old reports. The man who cried out in his sleep, his body locked tense and rigid as he walked in restless dreams. The man she loved...
As once I wept, if I could weep,
My tears might well be shed,
To think I was not near to keep
One vigil o'er thy bed;
To gaze, how fondly! on thy face,
To fold thee in a faint embrace,
Uphold thy drooping head;
And show that love, however vain,
Nor thou nor I can feel again.
"Byron," she can almost hear him say. "I do love that hidden romantic streak you have..." And he'd grin and lounge back in his chair and recite the rest of the poem for her, out of that prodigious memory...
Her stomach hurts with the effort it takes not to sob. She grips the arms of the chair, white-knuckling her way through the sudden surge of grief. And just when she's begun to get a handle on herself, there's a burst of chaos from the other end of the hallway.
Several of the orderlies and the harried, exhausted-looking doctors are converging near the elevator, all talking at once. In spite of herself, Ash looks up, automatically tracking the increase in activity, picking up on muted snatches of the hubbub of conversation.
"--about eight broken ribs--"
"--stopped the hemorrhaging planetside--"
"--barely stable--"
"--going to need a transfusion--"
"--Shepard--"
Her heart seems to stop in her chest. The hope that she thought was gone from her flares to life abruptly, with painful intensity. No, she tells herself. It's not possible. You're just hurting yourself more.
But without realizing it, she's on her feet and moving, clambering over the chairs in the waiting area rather than going around. Her boots hit the decking again and then she's running down the hallway.
One of the doctors looks up, hearing her approach. "Commander Williams," he says briskly, not seeming to register her agitation. "Good. I was going to send for someone from the Normandy, but now there's no need."
She stares at him, gasping like a fish, not quite sure how to form words. "I-- did I hear you right?" she asks blankly. "Someone said Shepard."
The man blinks, and then some of his distraction fades for a moment and he seems to see her face more clearly. "Did no one tell you, Ms. Williams?" he asks. "I suppose not - we've only just learned now ourselves. Commander Shepard was found on Earth two weeks ago. They sent him by fastest transport to us here, but communications have been so spotty the message only got here a few hours ahead of him." He nods towards the elevator. "We're preparing for admittance and triage now."
Her breathing feels like it's not working quite right, each exhale catching in her throat. "He's alive?" she whispers.
"Barely, by the sound of it," the doctor says grimly. "But alive, yes. And we're going to do our best to keep him that way. I'd advise you to stay out of the way when he arrives--"
She's stopped listening, because the elevator has made a soft, somewhat off-key chime and the doors are sliding open...
Four Alliance soldiers in bloody, ragged BDUs are standing inside. Between them they're carrying a makeshift stretcher covered in more blood, and on it is stretched--
"Matty!"
He looks terrible. One of his arms hangs at an odd angle, his clothing is tattered and bloodsoaked and she can see more than one bone poking through torn flesh. But he's breathing; she can see the soft rise and fall of his chest, and at the sound of her voice, his eyes flicker half-open.
"Ash...?" he whispers.
"Commander, clear the way. We need to get him hooked up to a line," the doctor snaps. "And don't agitate him."
She backs up; the reaction to the tone of command is automatic. But she met his eyes, just for a moment, long enough for her to see him within that battered shell, and for him to see her waiting for him. It's enough for now.
Commander Shepard is not dead. Matty is not gone.
That thing with feathers in her soul is alive and well again and shouting its song at the top of its lungs.
I would say Karlach is your trademark but that's a little too easy so I'm gonna say your trademark is having OCs that look like they could kill you but are cinnamon rolls
(Reblog if you want your followers to tell you what your trademark is.)
This made me smile a lot, haha. I like this as a trademark!
And it sent me down a self-indulgent rabbit hole to find super fierce faces from my cinnamon rolliest OCs. XD
If you go on vacation which one of your OCs would you bring with you?
XD Oh man. With just about any of them it would be a wild experience.
It depends what kind of time I want to have. :P
Joan Hawke and Jenna Shepard would be fun as hell to get drunk with for like beach week type shenanigans but we would definitely end up arrested.
Hector Carlisle and Matty Shepard would be fun for like... a European tour going to museums and touristy sites.
Realistically though, Dom Trevelyan and Philip Shepard are the ones I'm going to have an actual fun relaxing time with. Maybe Caden too. All my nicest boys who really would rather just be vibing instead of facing world ending crises constantly.
Finally getting around to answering this. XD Today has been hectic.
4. What appears in your OC's darkest nightmares?
I was going to say "we see it in game!" but as I'm thinking about it, the ME3 forest dreams are really not Matty's worst nightmare. They're awful, don't get me wrong, with all the whispers of his dead friends and the boy running away and dying, but it's oddly peaceful and quiet and sad more than anything else.
There's no way Matty's actual worst nightmares aren't about Akuze.
He dreams of the day he spent when all the rest of his squad was dead and both of his legs were broken and the thresher maw venom was slowly working its way through his veins towards his heart. He dreams of agonizing pain and utter solitude such as he has never experienced before or since. And in the dream, no one ever comes to save him.
These dreams definitely become a lot less frequent during the war when the forest dreams start to take over. Those are awful in their own way - but never the worst.
how about 8, 11, and 20 from the group questions section of the OC Asklist?
(OC Asks: Put Those Guys in Situations!)
I'm not sure which group you/the prompt had in mind, so we're going with a scenario of all my OCs somehow isekaid into the same situation, because I think it'd be funny. XD
8. Your characters have been invited to a fancy dress ball, and their costumes must fit a group theme. What do they wear?
The group immediately sorts out into three categories:
a) So excited, psyched to come up with a theme: Philip, Riley, Daniel, Dom, Caden, Joan
b) Meh, will do whatever the group deems appropriate: Matty, Jaksa, Randa, Hector.
c) Would rather do literally anything else: Jenna, Adi, Elliot, Hayden.
Group A comes up with a very nice theme of everyone in black and deep jewel tones of each person's favorite colors, super coordinated, gorgeously designed, everyone looking their best. The whole group wears it without complaint, except Joan, who (despite having been super into the planning) decides at the last minute to show up instead in a skimpy spangly number slit all the way up to her hip just to fuck with everyone, and she and Jenna almost get into a fistfight in the entrance hall.
11. Your characters are sharing stories around the fire. What story does each character tell? Whose story is the most popular?
All of them have lots of adventures to share from their respective universes. Some of them are... definitely better storytellers than others. Jenna and Hector in particular flat out refuse to participate, each claiming that they're no good at telling stories. Joan makes up an outrageous tall tale. Most of the others are pretty sincere though not flashy, telling some minor adventure while knowing deep down that there are much worse things they could speak about. Dom tells some hilarious misadventure with incredible detail and has everyone howling.
20. Your characters are trapped in a joint dream or simulation that recreates their greatest fears. They can only escape if each one of them faces their fear. What are these fears? How do they overcome them? Who overcomes theirs first, and who takes the longest?
Oh man. I was gonna avoid writing one out for every char cos I have quite a collection at this point and I knew it'd take forever, but this is pretty juicy and I can't resist indulging myself. Let's see.
a) Jenna> A room full of the burning corpses of her friends. Overcome through major support from the others in the group; oddly enough the only person who is really able to get through to her is Matty, the older marine, who does not try to reassure her that everything is all right, but simply reminds her quietly (hating the words as he says them) that she has pushed through worse.
b) Matty> The blue light of the Reaper hive mind. Faced as he faced it in real life, with pistol shots directly into the source until the way is clear. Everyone is mildly surprised given how cerebral he is in other contexts.
c) Philip> The room is CRAWLING with bugs of all sorts, all sizes. This one is almost a relief after Jenna's corpse room, but everyone quickly realizes that just helping him squash them all isn't the answer. Philip, in the end, sits in the center of the room and makes very unhappy noises while letting them crawl harmlessly around on him, while Hector and Adi sit next to him for moral support.
d) Jaksa> Something very similar to the DAO gauntlet - a reunion with Tamlen, only it's the blighted version of him with darkness pouring out of his face. She tries multiple times to lash out at this vision and the room simply resets, only allowing them passage when she does not strike but instead waits; the bleak vision drifts closer, lays its mutilated hand against her cheek for a moment and then vanishes.
e) Riley> An empty, bleak, blank Hightown mansion, devoid of family, devoid of life. All lost, all gone... The others sit at the table with her, eat a meal, help fill the space with voices again where it has been empty for so long.
f and g) Adi and Dom get roughly the same room, one right after another. Adi's is an enormous Chantry building, full of people all watching her and bathed in glowing light from an indistinct figure in a throne at the far end. Dom's is exactly the same, but no one is there, no one is watching, and the throne is empty. In both cases the place seems to ask of them only that they look steadily at the possibility and then walk forward nevertheless.
h) Daniel's room is bleeding darkspawn taint from the walls, which close in slowly on all sides while a distant young boy's voice screams at him - "You can't die, Father! You can't leave me alone!" Leaving aside his greatsword he smashes the blighted wall open with his own fists, opening a path beyond. Hector, insightful as he is, asks, "The boy screaming. Was that your son? Or you to your own father?" Daniel doesn't answer.
i) Elliot faces down an enormous rage demon, and alone of all the group does not seem surprised, just angry and tired. Without even waiting to consider the matter, he steps forward, slams his staff straight through the creature and then sets off an explosion within it, sending bits of ectoplasm slapping into the walls. "That didn't take you long," Jenna says dryly. "I've had a lot of practice; I fight it every night in my dreams," he answers.
j and k) Hayden and Randa's rooms are also similar - massive, high-ceilinged ornate places full of mocking, laughing voices. Jenna offers to beat the shit out of all the onlookers calling Hayden "knife-ear" and Randa "ox", but neither of them agrees. Randa just points out, in her morose, taciturn way, that it is better not to acknowledge them; the door opens for her as she stalks through the hall looking straight ahead. Hayden, vibrating with rage, says they don't matter, and the way to move on is to prove she is better than any of them ever were. Whether the room agrees or not is unclear, but when she stalks to the dais at the front of the hall and burns a Grey Warden symbol into the wall with magic, the door opens for her.
l) Joan, like Elliot, is greeted by the demon that dogs her - the desire demon that latched onto her when she came to Kirkwall, and that she thought she left behind when she left the city. Astonishing everyone, she - usually so cocky - goes completely blank and almost seems to panic. The demon just laughs. "You don't have it as easy as the others," it purrs. "There is no easy way to face me down, because deep down, I'm not what you fear, I'm what you want." It vanishes, the door opens. Everyone is somehow more rattled by this than anything else.
m) Caden's room is like another of Irenicus's dreams - he faces a blank-faced man that morphs into the Slayer, which scares the shit out of Hector. The only way out is to beat it into submission, just as he always has before within his own mind - but when they kill it, the room resets. The true answer is to hold it down as his friends once held him in a moment of transformation, to wait for the anger to bleed from it until it fades away.
n) Hector's room is, again, something of a relief after some of the past ones. He has many, many things he can think of fearing, but is instead presented with a giant red dragon which opens its mouth to shoot a burst of flame into his face. At first he panics, but, roused by the presence of the others around him, he forces himself forward and leaps onto its back instead. The others follow suit and the dragon leaps into the air and carries them free of the prison.
