#continuousspec

@thoughtsappear replied to your post “All right, buckaroos, listen up! I spent the first half of this year...”

are you gonna do camp nano?

I’m actually not sure what camp nano is? I’ve seen references to it, but I’m not sure how it works...

@pagerunner replied to your post “All right, buckaroos, listen up! I spent the first half of this year...”

GOAL: have something coherent to send you!

*vibrates excitedly*

@janiemcpants replied to your post “servantofclio replied to your post “servantofclio replied to your...”

Wait, wait, so the 10,000 times I've seen Titanic, Vasquez was there the ENTIRE TIME??

I KNOW RIGHT? Mind. Blown.

@jeannedarcprice replied to your post “All right, buckaroos, listen up! I spent the first half of this year...”

DO IT! 15,000 words is a fine goal!

I’m not that happy w this :v

Commander’s log - 23 days since the Reapers invaded Earth

Pros of being a cyborg built with top-of-the-line robot parts by a human extremist organization: I can go without sleep far longer than I once could.

Cons: everything else.

Commander’s log - 30 days since the Reapers invaded Earth

Dr. Chakwas and EDI have tag-teamed to monitor my vitals 24/7 since the invasion. Doc tells me that when I read casualty reports for more than a few minutes at a time, my blood pressure spikes to dangerous levels. In her professional opinion, I should stop.

I wish I could, Doc. I wish I could.

Commander’s log - 47 days since the Reapers invaded Earth

Can you believe I used to update this thing every day? And more than a few sentences at a time? Yeah, me neither. Past me is torn somewhere between laughing at present me, and pitying the hell out of her. 

Commander’s log - 55 days since the Reapers invaded Earth

I went back in this log and looked up the entry I made on the day Garrus joined the crew. I wrote: “Recruited turian C-Sec officer today. He’s impulsive, hot-headed, and will stop at nothing to take down bad guys. I like him.” 

Now, three years later, he’s the only thing keeping me sane most days. 

Commander’s log - 63 days since the Reapers invaded Earth

Still reading the casualty reports. Those first few weeks after Torfan, I thought, “nothing can be any worse than this.” I was wrong.

Commander’s log - 68 days since the Reapers invaded Earth

It’s my routine, now: go off duty at 2100 hours, right when the sun’s setting on Earth at summertime. Sit on the edge of my bed, datapad in hand. Drink a cup of coffee. Look at the casualty reports. Brush my teeth. Think about sleeping. Get up and go back to work. 

Commander’s log - 72 days since the Reapers invaded Earth

Was in the middle of my routine tonight when I felt Garrus’s hand on mine. He took the datapad out of my fingers and set it on the nightstand. I thought about stopping him, but instead I reached up and took off his visor. He had the casualty reports scrolling there, too. 

Later, when we were in bed, I told him a story about the first time I ever saw a sunset after a childhood growing up on ships. I was still a kid: six, maybe seven. Mom and Dad took me to Earth for a rare visit to my grandparents, and when the sun went down I watched the sky turn red as fire. Freaked me the hell out. It blew my mind when Grandma told me Earth citizens actually considered sunsets beautiful. 

Tonight I keep thinking about what the skies must look like now, on Earth, on Palaven. I can’t imagine they think it’s beautiful anymore. 

But Garrus is asleep next to me, and I haven’t had coffee in nine hours. His leg’s curled over my hip as I write this, and he’s so warm I’m starting to feel drowsy. 

So this is something that’s been percolating in my head for a while and while it’s maybe not in the letter of this prompt it is certainly in the spirit, soooo I took the excuse I needed to write it and I’M NOT SORRY.

/////

The old house felt colder, Taako thought as he walkeddown the hall towards the sunroom. Colder and emptier than it had a few daysago. The wooden floors creaked a little bit more, the walls seemed dingier, thepaintings hanging on them less bright. All in his head, of course. But hecouldn’t shake the feeling. Probably wouldn’t for a long time.

The heavy oaken door at the end of the hall was open justa crack. Taako pushed it in and stood on the threshold.

She was sitting in a rocking chair by the window, herwhite-oak cane resting across her lap. Her shoulders were wrapped with a shawl,bright blue and white; she kept bundled up more, these days, even when itwasn’t cold. Her hair was longer than it had ever been, done up in a silver bunthat made her look her age in a way she never had before.

She looked so frail. It made Taako uncomfortable, thoughhe never let it show.

He walked up beside her, crossed his arms and leanedbeside the window she was staring out.

“You have any idea what you did to me?” he asked.

Lucretia turned her head and regarded him impassively. Fora long moment, they stared at each other.

“I had so much coin on you dying first.”

Lucretia didn’t smile, except around her eyes.

“I live to disappoint you, Taako.”

“Literally,” he said mildly, glancing out the window.“Least I know I’m gonna get it all back when Merle kicks it.”

Lucretia hummed. “The tontine. You still sending him thosecare packages?”

“With all the cheeses and stuff, yeah.” Taako shook hishead. “Old man’s got a heart like a fist, though. Even if he had a heartattack, pretty sure he’d win.”

Lucretia chuckled, ending in a small cough. Taako glancedat her, then back out the window.

“You okay?” he asked.

She sighed. “No, Taako, I’m not.”

He frowned a little and shifted uncomfortably, shoulderagainst the moulding around the window. “Least you knew it was comin’.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

“Yeah, well, some of us prefer knowing shit.”

She closed her eyes and said nothing. Taako frowned againand bit his tongue. Too much.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He took a moment before answering. “Not particularly.”

Lucretia hummed.

“But I’ll get there,” he said, more to himself than toher.

She smiled thinly, eyes still closed. “I’d say the same, but I don’t think itmatters much one way or the other, considering.”

“That’s not what he’d say.”

Her smile faded. She opened her eyes. “Yes,” she sighed.“I suppose you’re right.”

Taako looked out the window again. It was sunny outside. Abright, beautiful spring day. Green grass on the lawn, a garden overgrown withall sorts of wildflowers and a couple fruit trees that were just starting tobud. Angus was walking the dogs around the yard. Even they seemed slower,quieter. Taako wondered how much they knew and how much they simply reflectedthe mood around them.

“He was too good for you, you know,” he said seriously.“You didn’t deserve him.”

He turned and looked at Lucretia and found her staringright back at him.

“Neither did you,” she said.

A moment of silence. Then Taako smiled a little, andLucretia smiled back.

“Right,” he said. “None of us did.”

“One person might have,” Lucretia said, turning back tothe window.

Taako hummed. “To hear him tell it.”

“You ever wish you’d met her?”

He glanced at Lucretia, uncertain. “Sometimes. I guess.”

Silence.

“You met her, didn’t you.”

Lucretia closed her eyes again. “Only once.”

A little twinge in Taako’s gut. Small enough he couldignore it, these days. He thought about staying quiet, but he couldn’t help butask.

“What was she like?”

More silence. When Lucretia spoke again, there was a thin,threadbare quality to her voice that Taako did not enjoy.

“I wish I could say I saw her like he did. But…” Shechuckled wetly. Taako almost cringed. “I barely remember her.”

A tear rolled down her wrinkled cheek. Taako looked away.Angus was picking up the mail from the postbox near the road. The dogs followedobediently at his heels.

“You gonna stay here?” he asked.

In his periphery, Lucretia brushed a thumb across hereyes. She sniffed only once.

“Why, Taako,” she said dryly, “are you concerned aboutme?”

He scoffed and shifted his back against the wall, armsstill crossed. But he didn’t deny it.

Lucretia smiled, not looking at him. “I think I will,” shesaid. “Here seems as good a place as any to spend the rest of my life.”

Taako glanced around the room. At the furniture, at thepaintings and drawings on the walls, the portraits and landscapes. There wasDavenport, laying on the beach; next to that was Angus, carrying a dog, a biggrin splitting his face; beside that, Taako and Kravitz, at their wedding, andbelow that, Barry and Lup.

And on one far wall, a set of three pictures – Lucretiaand Magnus, sitting on a bench beneath an alien sky; Magnus, jacket on andshirt off, carrying Lucretia up on his shoulder like she weighed nothing atall; and a crude drawing of Lucretia in profile, clearly drawn by a man with noartistic training to speak of. But it was clearly her, and she looked happy.

Taako looked back at Lucretia. She was rocking gently inher chair, looking out the window of her room – a room made just for her,decades ago, as a permanent studio.

That was what Magnus did, after all. Hemade things for people.

“Don’t think I could,” Taako said. He shrugged. “Butyou’ve always been stronger than me, that way.”

“Gods above,” she said mildly. “A compliment. You reallyaren’t feeling well.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Would you mind repeating it into the stone? I’d like topreserve it for posterity.”

“Fuck off, Creesh.”

She chuckled again. This time sounded more like her. Thatwas enough.

Taako pushed away from the wall. “Should go pack up, Iguess. Me ’n the bonehead’ll leave in the morning, get out of your hair.”

“You can stay as long as you want,” she said. “This is asmuch your house as mine.”

“Like I said, don’t think I could,” Taako replied. “Butyeah. I know. Place was everyone’s house before it was his.”

Lucretia nodded. Taako hesitated, then stepped close,leaned down and rested his hand on hers. She took it and squeezed.

“We’re still not cool,” Taako said quietly.

Lucretia looked up and smiled at him. Her eyes were wet.

“I know,” she said.

Taako squeezed her hand, leaned forward and pecked hergently on the crown of her head. Then he straightened up and smiled.

“See you in hell, Lu.”

She gave his hand a pat. “See you in hell, Taako.”

He gave her hand one last squeeze, then walked for the door.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, pausing on the treshold, “I’mmaking my nachos for dinner before I leave, so like. Deal with it.”

Lucretia groaned.

“I said deal with it.”

“You use too much cilantro. It tastes like toothpaste.”

“To a child’s palate,” he retorted. “Picked up from Magnusno doubt. Even beyond the grave, he torments me.”

“He would,” she said, and he could hear her smile.

“He would,” Taako agreed. “C’mon out when you’re ready.”

I’ve written more for Sirens & Selkies, but for now have an excerpt:

I woke up to the sound of an omni-tool alarm. Even in my fuzzed state I knew it wasn’t mine, but the insistence of it was enough to pull me into work-mode, wrenching myself from the warmth of her embrace to find the source of the panic.

“What time?” I asked, rubbing my eyelids. It took several blinks to clear the blur, in desperate need of tea.

“Half past five,” she replied, drowsing at the glowing interface. “Hmm. Sorry, s’off now.”

“No problem.” I settled back down as soon as I could, memories of my working days ignored. C-Sec would not intrude on this morning- I did not know when I would see Oriana again, and every moment mattered.

She yawned and pulled the blanket higher above our shoulders, eyes still closed. I could see the marks on her collarbone even in the dim light of the bedroom, scored lines from her nails raking at the evidence of our last night together.

I pulled her scratching hands away with a chuff, before she made herself bleed. Ori would always hurt herself more than I ever could, the rash a tiny thing compared to the damage her sharp claws could make. “It’s not that bad,” she said. “Just itchy.”

“But you’re marking yourself again,” I told her. I kissed the welts out of guilt- it was my scales that caused the itching, though her body still lined itself against the shelter of mine as we drowsed.

[SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BUT I WENT A LITTLE HOGWILD. AO3 too!] 

They broke through Palaven’s atmosphere in the early afternoon, shuttle glinting and casting long shadows against the rocks and debris.

Logically, Shrike Shepard knew that Palaven had been hit hard by the Reapers. Fuck, they all had taken a beating. But seeing it all spread out before her really brought the scale of the destruction home. “Shit, Garrus. Is there anything left?”

Leaning and looking was not especially conducive to driving a shuttle. As she craned her neck to try and see a small city that now lay in partial ruins, Garrus grabbed the wheel from her hands. “Shepard, please don’t crash and kill us after we survived this much.” Right. Some things never changed, and that included her driving. Factor in two prosthetic legs and it may have gotten worse, if anything.

The journey passed by in silence, Shepard trying to catch sight of things through the windscreen without sending them into a fiery death spiral. She couldn’t drive with music on; something in those faint strains brought back memories both good and bad, pulling her into them until she couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

“It’s not bad. Compared to Earth, I mean. We’ll rebuild. If the hierarchy is good at anything, it’s bureaucratic bullshit that’s going to mobilize everyone left to rebuild.” Maybe Garrus had a point. It wasn’t as if Shepard had much of a point of comparison; she hadn’t seen Palaven before the war. Maybe it was always this… rocky. Maybe that wasn’t rubble, but just a cluster of natural landscape that happened to look slightly like something that was man made. Or turian made, such as it was. “Looks prettier than London.” Fair point.

With skill that would have made Joker proud, Shepard piloted the shuttle past the ruins onto a series of vast plains, for lack of a better word. It was relatively untouched out here; what little towns there were hadn’t been large enough for the Reapers to truly target. Some showed bullet holes and burnt battle scars, but they had suffered few casualties. Life here was moving on, even it was slowly. There was even tourism again, though travel had become almost impossible for most residents of the galaxy. At least it made it easier to book a place for a good rate, a thought that she immediately berated herself for. So many deaths and at least half of them her fault and she was making jokes?

“Hey, Shepard? Come back to me.” Garrus’ voice brought her back. She was still sitting in the driver’s seat, fingers clutched around the wheel, eyes sliding off the burnt remains of some small building. Back. Right. Palaven. That’s where they were.

Garrus could step free of the shuttle and take a deep breath of home air, something like relief coming over his face, shoulders sagging slightly forward. It wasn’t so easy for Shepard; Palaven’s natural radiation would shred through her skin in no time, leaving her stuck in a suit until they were safely inside. The layer against the world  made it feel less real, more isolated; if only she could have a barrier with her at all times.

Before them lay a series of glass geodesic domes, made of reinforced steel and something that prevented harmful rays from soaking through. There were eight of them neatly lined up, all unoccupied. Shepard and Garrus would be the only visitors for quite some time.

There were some privileges saving the galaxy granted you, one of which was automatic check-in through a VI, rather than having to deal with any officious hotel staff whose eyes tended to roam from her face down to her legs, twin, gently curved carbon-fiber limbs that held very little resemblance to the more typical flesh and blood appendages. There was no one here but them, and when Garrus held his palm up to a scanner, the door to a metal tube that connected to the first of the domes opened with a green light and a pleasant chime. Home sweet home, at least for tonight.

It was a relief to take her helmet off when the decontamination procedures were through. The place prided itself on cleanliness- ‘so pure that a quarian could visit!’ But the sun had sunk even lower, the first hints of something more appearing on the horizon. It would give Shepard enough time to strip off her armor, back to Garrus, refusing his help as her fingers went through buckles and straps with practiced ease, eyes resting on the N7 logo for a minute.

“Hurry up Shepard, or you’re going to miss the show.” As before, Garrus dragged her back to reality, already resting on a couch clearly designed more for turians than for anything else, the cushions slightly swayed to accomodate a carapace, so high off the ground that her feet were dangling almost comically.

Within the crux of Garrus’ arm, Shepard felt comfortable. “Do you think we deserve this?” she asked as she settled in, his warmth and his scent, gunmetal and some spice she couldn’t name, settling over her.

“I can’t think of anyone who deserves this more than you. Besides, it sure beats elcor Shakespeare.” Ah, yes. A production they hadn’t yet managed to catch, thankfully.

Unlike the stage show, this was one purely natural. On the far north of Palaven’s surface, the radiation and the magnetic atmosphere combined in a way that was only a shallow echo elsewhere. First there was the briefest suggestion of something red to interrupt the blueish green of the sky, and then it spread and spread until it was almost like a dense fog. Orange shot throughout, and then purple and pink. It was like a sunset on Earth, if it had been dialed up to eleven and attained some kind of density that almost looked as if she could run her fingers through it. Together, the two sat rapt, like children in front of a nature vid.

“You ever seen this before?”

“We never had the time to visit. Not with boot camp and then mom, and then everything else,” Garrus answered, arm pulling her closer until Shepard’s head rested on his shoulder. “Always wanted to though. I think Solana did once, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was like. Said you had to experience it for yourself.”

Within the red fog, the first pinpricks of light appeared. The show was far from over, but Shepard’s eyes grew heavy and she found herself nodding off, feeling… safe. What a strange feeling.

When she woke up, it must have been a few hours later. The smell of something burning reached her nostrils and she jolted up, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. “Vakarian, status report!” The words were garbled from the haze of sleep.

“I, uh, may have burnt dinner Shepard. But look at the sky!” He was quick to distract her from the flames he was combatting on the stove and the… whatever it was he was scraping off a plate and dumping into a trash can. Only a turian could make an MRE look good.

Fires successfully fought, Garrus rejoined her on the couch, inviting Shepard to lay her head in his lap and simply stare upwards through the glass. There wasn’t a hint of red now, but a flicker of green and blue dancing and growing until the sky was streaked with it in a never-ending pattern that moved every time she blinked. Her hands found his, their fingers intertwining and resting on her chest. He wasn’t comfortable in a traditional sense, but there was nowhere in the galaxy she would rather be.

Thank you so much for the ask! I haven’t written anything for Thale in literally forever, so this was fun :0) Shameless fluff of my grumpy elf and Josephine. Enjoy!

30: Can I kiss you?

“Now, I’ve sent invitations to Seleneand the Orlesian court. I don’t expect the Empress to make the journey toSkyhold, of course, but an invitation is a necessity,” Josephine said, pacinganother line across Thale’s chambers.

Her clipboard held at the ready andoverflowing with lists and party plans she scrawled another note in themargins. More than a few curls hung down from her meticulous up-do causing herto swat them from her eyes with an annoyed sigh and flick of her hand. Afterwatching her take another anxious lap around the desk Thale pushed up from hisperch on the bed. His aching muscles groaned in protest, the injuries sustainedduring their last fight still not entirely healed. He swung his bare feet to thefloor and quietly cursed the brief moment in which the room seemed to spin in arather fast circle.

“Jo,” he said, his hoarse voice barelymaking a dent in Josephine’s continued avalanche of worried party planning. “Jo,”he tried again, this time succeeding in gaining her attention. “You need torelax. The party will be fine.”

She blinked at him over the top of herclip, pen held at the ready. He saw her thoughts turn on a dime. A sharp, determinedtwinkle in her eyes as she set the notes aside and crossed the short distancebetween them. The back of her hand was on his forehead in an instant, checkinghis temperature even though a fever was never the issue for his bed rest.

“And you need to lie down,” shecountered, switching to her other hand to make certain he hadn’t suddenlydeveloped a fever. “You’re still on the mend.”

He succumbed to the light push on his shoulderand held back the urge to roll his eyes when she lifted his legs back onto thebed. A heavy blanket seemed to materialize out of nowhere and tuck itselftightly around his chest. The hand on his forehead came back for a third checkand then moved to fret with the multitude of pillows surrounding him.

“Jo.”

“Honestly, the healer should havestopped in again tonight. I told her she should check on you once more beforemorning. She said you needed to sleep, but I knew you wouldn’t sleep this early,”she muttered, tucking in the blanket once more before swiping her hair awayfrom her eyes. “You saved Thedas and she can’t even be bothered to make sureyou’re properly healing.”

“Can I kiss you?”

The question took her off guard as hehoped it would. A flustered, ghost of a smile graced her lips even as she attemptedto regain her composure. He reached up to slide a stray curl behind her ear,his fingertips brushing against the increasingly warm skin of her cheek. Shesmiled and smoothed back his hair in turn.

“You need to rest,” she said.

He took hold of her hand. “That’s notexactly an answer.”

She laughed, the quiet sound sittingwarm and welcoming in his chest. He didn’t know what would happen now, with theInquisition, with them. If there even still would be a them. She had family andresponsibilities back in Antiva and he would never begrudge her either of thosethings for his own selfish desires. That was a worry for another day, another time.Now it was as it should be; just the two of them with a roaring fire andJosephine’s warm laughter filling the room.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked again, givingher hand a gentle squeeze.

“If I say yes will you promise to liedown and at least attempt to get some rest?” she replied, as though not sayingyes even occurred to her.

“Will you rest with me?” he asked, doinghis best to look pitiful. “I sleep better with you at my side.”

“Do you now?” Josephine said, another laugh,dangerously close to a giggle leaving her lips.

“I do,” he said. “You’ve done all theplanning you can for tonight. The party will be fine, better than fine. It willbe talked about for years to come. It will be amazing, because you are amazing.”

“Flatterer,” she said, sitting down onthe bed before curling up beside him. “I’ll rest for a few minutes, but then I mustgo over the food orders again. The bakery keeps trying to raise their pricesand I know I have their original invoice somewhere.”

“I’m sure you’ll bring them to heel,” hesaid, pressing a light kiss to her temple. “No one outdoes Josephine Montilyetwhen receipts are concerned.”

She rested her head on her chest with asigh. “I know you’re teasing, but it’s true.”

He laughed and placed another kiss tothe top of her head. “I would never tease about your bookkeeping skills.”

She arched her head up to level him witha stern look. “Not if you know what’s good for you,” a smile cracked her stoicexterior and she pushed up on her elbow. “Now, I’m rather disappointed if thatis the type of kiss you were asking for.”

5. What was your Shepard’s dream job before they became a soldier?

I think he always saw himself as following his mother’s footsteps. It’s only later that he realizes not having other dreams as a kid is pretty sad. He didn’t even have a phase where he saw himself as a fireman, a pilot, a teacher, etc. 

22. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Black and blue :)

32. How do they handle guilt?

By burying themselves in work and trying to do good deeds. At some point he basically just can’t deal with it anymore and he has to find Garrus or Miranda to talk about it.