L A S T T U E S D A Y
[This is a little fragmented, but I like the way it reads. Besides, I’m mostly putting it up for posterity.]
EVEN AS THE SHUTTLE opened and the commander felt the powder sink beneath her boots, she could still hear the yeoman’s voice inform her of a new message. Shepard had ignored her at first, wanting to wash away the grime that her first excursion on Omega left on her soul. Alone in her cabin an hour later, she finally sat down at her desk and booted up the terminal. As the water dripped down her face, escaping the barrier of the clean white towel wrapped tightly around her hair, she bit her lip and felt her heart twist.
L I T T L E B L A C K D R E S S
[Because I hated that casual dress more than life itself.]
THERE WERE SEVERAL things Shepard missed about flying under the Cerberus flag, and at top of that list were the relaxed clothing regulations. Unfortunately, the Normandy wore a fresh coat of Alliance-blue paint now, and the Commander had an obligation to dress to match. Itchy dress blues and nylon filled her wardrobe now, and as the Commander fumbled with her newest outfit in her private bath, she wanted the little black dress gifted by Kasumi back almost as much as she wanted the Reapers dead.
//H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y
They search every cracked and dusty corner of the hospital, but the mother is nowhere to be found. Instead, the head nurse finds a folded slip of paper tucked behind a pillow in the young woman’s empty bed, still warm and unkempt, as if she had simply went for the bathroom. The nurse turns it over in her fingers before splitting it open with her thumbs to read the note:
“her father wanted her to be named Valkyrie”
The nurse folds it back into place somberly. Though it filled her chest with the same chill as the April rain beating on the windows, it was to be expected, maybe even celebrated. Though they tried (God they tried) to raise their children right, in this neighborhood, on this hot and crowded planet, young mothers often found their daughters slipping through their fingers, destined for the gutters, the brothels, and for the particularly headstrong ones, the gangs and merc groups. The head nurse walks down the hall, the lights flickering above her, to let the other nurses know that the mother was truly gone.
One nurse, a small, dark-skinned woman, rocks the orphan in her arms, but stops when her superior walks in with a face like melted wax.
“You weren’t able to find Hannah, were you?”
She shook her head. “She left this behind.” The young nurse balances the child on her hip as she inspects the note.
“Valkyrie Shepard,” she mumbles. “It’s quite a mouthful.”
“We’ll have to call CPS once she’s cleared to go,” the head nurse says, shaking her head. “It’s a shame. She’s such a beautiful baby.”
“Beautiful and strong,” the younger nurse coos, looking into the child’s big brown eyes. “And I’m sure she’ll stay that way.”
The party is over, and they’ve all fallen silent, scattered around the apartment like a neglected mess. Only Shepard is awake, sitting at the end of the bed with a glass in her hand. In that glass are the last few sips of his favorite wine, and in front of her is his ghost on the monitor. This is the twenty-ninth time she’s seen the vids. She cannot sleep on the Citadel without watching them; it is like sleeping in his grave.
“I cannot forget you. That is what humans say. With us, it a state called Tu-Fira. ‘Lost in another.’ It can consume us. In case you are in the same pain, I want to say you have only made my life better.”
This is where she begins to tear up, though silently. She has never shrieked over him, and she’ll never let her crew hear her more than warble, even if it would do her good to let it out. He had been the only one to ever see her cry, and she wanted to keep it that way. It was the secret she allowed him to keep, and she wanted it to stay between them. Tu-Fira. That was why she trusted him so. She’d been so lost in him, and now without him, she was more astray than ever.
“We are alive siha, and when we are not, I will meet you across the sea.”
She bites her lip. She’s been secretly hoping that day would soon come up upon her like the tide and drag her out into the ocean. She finishes off the last few drops of wine, then empties a couple more bottles, lining them up on the floor as if to fill them with messages to send adrift for him.
But they remain empty and uncorked, and his siha stands alone on the wrong shore.
Grimsley and Burgh parted a decade ago on good terms, but now that time has passed, they are unsure how to proceed. Together, they were begin to understand the meaning of “the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
"The Prodigal Returns" can be read at ookami’s ff.net here.
For the full experience, please read the prequel, “Hard Luck Man” here first.
September 23rd: My Green Muse Update
September 30th: My Green Muse Update
October 7th: My Green Muse Finale
October 8th-31st: Insomnia, Parts 3 and 4
November NaNoWriMo: “Duty”
December: Journey of the Edda
“My Green Muse”
Fanfiction | Romance/Friendship | Pokemon | Grimsley & Burgh
A sequel to “Hard Luck Man.” Grimsley and Burgh parted a decade ago on good terms, but now that time has passed and they are brought back together through the magic of League regulations, they are unsure how to proceed. Together, they were begin to understand the meaning of “the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
Novel | Sci-fi/Espionage/Romance | Original Fiction
In 2010, we discovered that we were not alone. Two years after first contact, the world is quieter. Disease has been eradicated, poverty lessened, and old enemies now feast at the same table. Yet, Stella Lundegaard is skeptical. She’s seen too many bad sci-fi movies to trust the people of Mars that easily. When her family is accepted, a process in which humans are chosen to live and work with Martians, she is less than enthusiastic, even though the stars are all she’s ever dreamed about. But she doesn’t dream any more. Struck by reality, it is up to her and a rouge, nameless Martian to uncover the Authority’s conspiracy and expose the truth about the universe to the people of Earth.
Parts 1 & 2 can be found here.
Novella | Thriller | Original Fiction
When Bill Marrow takes in his estranged, troubled daughter Sylvia, he expects her to change. He expects her to fall in line, get her act together, and maybe take that damn barbell out of her lip. On a fateful night in Cannibal Junction, she does change, but in a way that Bill would not even wish on his enemies. It’s up to him to stand up against injustice, and do his duty for his only lost child.
Journey of the Edda
Fanfiction | Adventure/Sci-fi | Mass Effect | Original Characters
The Reapers have arrived. After the fall of Omega, Stanley, an accountant turned red-sand addict with a heart of gold, and Skoll, a beautiful assassin with a heart of stone, team up to make a few credits and save a few lives from the war. In the course of their adventures, they meet Harsk, a Batarian merc with ties to Commander Shepard; Yue, a young Quarian medic-to-be on her Pilgrimage; Lanna, a headstrong, idealistic Justicar; and Esther, an ex-Cerberus scientist who knows too much about something called the Catalyst…
…aaand’s here are our main characters, Skoll and Stan.
I’ve already talked about Skoll. She’s an assassin on Omega and former member of the Tenth Street Reds. To this day, she holds a grudge against Commander Shepard for leaving the gang and doesn’t participate in the blind hero-worship of her. Interestingly enough, when she began her career as an assassin, Thane Krios (this universe’s Shep’s lover) gave her a few pointers, and she deeply respects him, referring others to him when she had a job she couldn’t handle. Skoll is a hardened person, but she sees no point in taking/harming someone when she doesn’t need to. She likes being a lone agent, and she hates when people try to change that.
This gentleman is Stanley. He’s a red sand addict fresh from being fired as Aria T’Loak’s bookkeeper. Like Yue, he’s another civilian, but he’s capable of handling himself. In the three years since his divorce, he’s bounced all over the galaxy to find work, staying in one place for a few weeks before getting shit-canned and starting all over again, so he has a robust knowledge of intergalactic customs and quirks. He’s a smart guy, but he’s a tad lazy, and when he needs a hit of red sand his personality ranges from difficult to hateful depending on how bad he needs it. He also has limited biotic potential, but he’s never had any training to hone these skills.
Two more Mass Effect OC’s from that fanfiction I want to write within the coming weeks, and I drew them all by myself mommy!
To the left is my Quarian, Yue’Taku nar Veygo. She’s a teenager who left on her Pilgrimage just days before Palaven is hit by the Reapers. Yue’s got her heart set on becoming a doctor someday. She’s a bit awestruck by the galaxy since this is the first time she’s ever left the fleet, and she’s generally nervous about trying new things. After Skoll and Stan pick her up, she becomes a little more paranoid and fearful if she gets to thinking about the war. Out of everyone on the ship, she’s seen the least amount of battle or bloodshed, and everyone kind of feels the need to look out for her because of it. [Drew her without her mask even though it only gets taken of once ‘cause she’s a cutie.]
And the lovely Asari to the right is Justicar Lanna. Like Yue, she’s another youngster, even though she’s the oldest on-board at 65. She joined the order of Justicars fifteen years before the events of ME3 and is one of the youngest Justicars in history. Unlike many of her colleagues, she really tries hard to find a peaceful solution to the problems she comes across. She’s a very matronly person, especially to the suffering, but she’s still a little headstrong and immature due to her age. She serves as a wall that Stanley uses to bounce off his feelings, and she grows closest to him on the Edda.
*A little note since it’s been about eight years since I’ve posted any art online: This was very hard for me to do, and I had to heavily use references and whatnot,
plus it’s no good at all. I’m not turning into an art blog, I swear, but I may finish up the rest of the crew’s portraits and do the ladies I made with the doll-maker again. I’m just not looking forward to the Batarian. FSM help me when I get to the Batarian…*
Cheren and Hilda grabbing a bite to eat while training for the second gym.
Cheren’s eyebrow rose as he watched Hilda push away her plate, look towards the window, and let out a long noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Carefully, he placed his sandwich back on his plate and rolled his eyes. “What now?”