#n7month

Wow, I only found out about Mass Effect little more than two years ago, but avoided it like the plague since I didn’t want any spoilers. This summer I finally played the Shepard trilogy, and fell so completely in love with everything. To then find out that the fandom is very much alive and active has been such a joy! So here is my own contribution to my first N7 day, a sketch of our love Garrus in a slutty little top, as well as some silly doodles of how I imagine turians can retract their heads like a turtle, lol

(redraw old art)

"He died in the darkness so a blue rose could bloom."

"Don't leave me behind" 😭

Today is the day I died. For two years, I was dead. And when I was done being dead, I died again. Before I died, a memorial service attended by one was held on the surface of Alchera, where the remains of a ship lay girded by rocks and palisades of ice. Ribs bent at right angles, spines of metal frame jutting into the sky like reaching fingers. Wheels buried and stopped forever. There was an open, empty corridor where soldiers once slept entombed for their long journey across the stars. The mourner collected the dog tags of the fallen and left footprints in the snow. She did not cry. It was too cold to cry. Her footprints, shallow and streaked, to be covered again as the wind slashed at angles into the combe. In time, yielding to new tracks, new impressions of another self. I haven't forgotten. I remember her, and the one that came before. The sequence of my life. In a bleary sacrifice, I will die again—but I will live again, and I will love. I will save and love and save again, and will the ones I love to live. I am a shepherd, I shall not want.

Rendered in Blender 4.1, cycles, map from here (x)

He hated batarians. To be fair, he thought that just about everyone, including the batarians themselves, hated batarians. They were crass. Rude. Undisciplined. They stank like booze and sweat and a general lack of personal hygiene. Not once, in the past eleven years, did he see a single product in a requisition that would have resembled cologne. Deodorant. Damn soap. When Garrus was in bootcamp, and it was first announced that the Hierarchy had formally allied themselves with the Hegemony, he was told over and over again by his superior officers that it didn't mean he would be taking orders from batarians, didn't mean he would be working directly with them. He might just run into them on the battlefield, get patched up by the occasional medic with four eyes instead of two. For the best, they said. For the Hierarchy. Today, his entire squad, save the pilot, were batarians. Three of them. The two foot soldiers were both nasty shades of green, like the bottom of the latrine pit. Their names were Pish and Dish. Garrus very much wanted to make a joke out of it, but found out quickly that humor and batarians were not a combination that was observed too often in the wild. The big one, the one that the other two would look for leadership instead of Garrus, went by the name Ugreppo. He had estimated that they had been in the rover for a maximum of twenty minutes, and Ugreppo had already smoked three cigars. Not cigarettes, cigars. Garrus suspected he was eating the butts afterwards. His teeth certainly looked like he did, all black and rotted.

Resharing my Garrus plushie and sticker w.i.p.! Sadly due to shipping delays, I could not get the correct gray fabric version of the plushie done in time, so for now we’re stuck with the green test version ;; currently working on patterning his armor as well!