Crassus increased the weight on the machine by twenty pounds and stretched out on the bench again. Hands wrapped around the bar, he lifted it easily from the cradle, let it down to touch his keelbone and then put it back. He added another twenty pounds and repeated the process. That was better, he decided, he could actually feel his muscles working. Crassus needed the exercise and the gym in the basement of the estate had everything the base at Invictus had had. He let the bar just touch his keelbone again, lifted it, breathing steadily as he did. He needed to stop thinking about Invictus, it was behind him. The Primarch had-
The gym door opened and someone entered on quiet feet. Too light a step to be Ignatius and too heavy to be one of the twins, it was probably Cato. Crassus lowered and lifted the bar again, the boy wouldn’t bother him. He added more weight with a gesture of his omnitool. Now it was heavy and he strained to lift and lower the bar as easily as he had been but he’d been nearing the maximum weight he was comfortable with.
Those light steps trotted closer and Crassus turned his head to spot Mavic approaching the weight machine. The small turian flicked his mandibles nervously.
“Do you need something?” Crassus asked him.
“Er… nah.” The smile faltered a little. “I’d’ve talked to you last night but I sat down for a sec and kinda passed out.”
He quirked a mandible. “Do we have something to talk about?”
“Yeah, I owe you an apology.”
Crassus turned his head back and resumed his workout. “You reacted to me the same way that most people do.”
“Yeah, I just bet I did.” Mavic muttered. “And that’s why the apology. I was raised better than to make snap judgments like that. I don’t know you, y’know?”
He placed the bar back on the cradle and sat up. “You don’t.” He agreed.
Mavic winced. “Reckon I deserve that hard a shut down.” He chuckled lowly. “So anyway, I’m sorry for my first impression.”
Crassus worked his mandibles along his jaw; he hadn’t meant it quite that way. “I don’t know you either.” He extended the verbal olive branch.
The smaller turian flicked that nervous smile again. “Aw, there ain’t much to me. What you see is what you get.”
Crassus looked him up and down from fringe to foot. Mavic was maybe Cato’s size but built more lean than outright skinny. The Sentinel uniform fit him loosely, shirt collar opened by more than a few buttons and the emblem pinned at the pocket on his chest. It gave Mavic an impression of un-professionalism, a lax approach to regulations and that would annoy him, Crassus could just tell.
“I can see you’re not career military.”
Mavic laughed. “Nah, Spirits, nah. I served as a mechanic and up ‘til ‘bout a week ago, I was in college on the Citadel.”
Crassus blinked slowly at him. “You must have just graduated.”
“Er…nah,” He rubbed his fringe. “Not yet.”
“You’re a savant then?” Somehow, Crassus doubted that.
“Nope. Lil’ more than average, sure, but definitely not a genius.”
He leaned on his knees. “Why are you here?”
Mavic rubbed a hand over his fringe again and down to rub his jaw. “I reckon cuz my dad has indirectly saved the Primarch’s life a few times and he wants to repay him.”
Crassus quirked his mandible again.
“My dad founded Virim Munitions.” He explained.
He flared his mandibles in surprise. “I thought I’d recognized the name.” He had several guns of that make and they’d save his life a number of times too.
“Yeah, so… that’s me.” He chuckled. “I get to guess you now?”
Crassus gestured for him to go ahead. Better the assumptions were to his face than behind his back… Mavic stared at him a moment, head tilted in thought.
“You’re career military.” He said. “Special ops?”
“For a time.” He nodded.
“Right, cuz… er, never-mind, none my business.” Mavic stared a moment more. “Served ship-side?”
“Planet-side.” Crassus corrected.
He nodded and pointed to the bench press. “You are stupid strong.”
That got a laugh out of him. “It’s only eighty percent of my body weight.”
“So like six of me and both them lil’ princes, yeah?” Mavic grinned.
“That sounds about right, yes.” Crassus grinned back at him.
Mavic:
That smile… Spirits, it brightened up the huge man’s eyes and shifted his face to something less jarring and more normal. Mavic fluttered his mandibles and felt heat at his throat. “Y’know, and don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve got a killer smile.”
Crassus blinked at him and cleared his throat. “Ah… thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He couldn’t believe he’d just blurted that out but at least the big guy took it alright. “So what was your special ops specialty? Front line? Infantry?”
He shook his head. “No. I was an instructor of tactical combat and, obviously, a hand-to-hand specialist.”
“Damn big guy.” Mavic grinned again. “So the Primarch hired you to teach them princes how to fight, huh?”
That grin flickered a little before turning into a small smile. “I’ve never taught children,” He said. “And the twins are still too young, but there’s much I could teach Cato.”
“I’d be willin’ to help, y’know? Cato’s only ‘bout an inch or two shorter than me. ‘Course that’ll probably change soon and he’ll sprout up.”
Crassus eyed him up and down again in a way that had him heating up. “You would be good for him to practice against. Assuming you weigh about the same.”
Mavic shrugged and tried to get himself under control. It was just a smile, just an intense stare, for Spirit’s sake. “He looks to be a lil’ more plate and bone than me but it can’t be much of a difference.”
The big guy nodded again. “I’d say he’s maybe a hundred pounds but that’s a generous estimate.”
He snorted. “Yeah it is.”
Crassus stood from the bench and stretched and Mavic couldn’t help but eye him up and down. Damn… just damn. He pulled a little at the collar of his shirt.
“You alright?” The giant asked him.
Mavic felt the color from his throat rise to the hinge of his mandibles. “Er… yeah, yeah. Palaven’s a lil’ hot for me, y’know?”
“I find it to be pleasantly cool compared to Invictus.”
“I bet,” He hummed. “Do the plants really try to eat folks there? I mean they’re just plants.”
Crassus barked a laugh, full and deep with reverb. “They do, and more often than not, they succeed.”
“Hard for them to take a bite outta someone your size, huh?” Mavic purred, tones full of intimate things. Crassus didn’t seem to notice, thank the Spirits. He wasn’t sure he really meant the come-on or if he was just teasing. Again, the words had just sort of tumbled out of his mouth.
“They’ve tried,” The giant told him and pushed up one sleeve to show scarring along his forearm. “I brushed aside a vine. I didn’t realize it was covered in digestive enzymes that could eat through my armor.”
“Shit,” Mavic muttered as he reached to run his fingers along the acid-burn-like scars.
Crassus inclined his head. “Some of the plants are a little more, ah, active than that. They go after anything from other plants to frogs to livestock to people. They use a lure like a sweet scent of pretty flower. Or they’re just sticky. We’re taught young to avoid bright colors outside.”
“I bet,” He said, still a little blown away that plants were even capable of the old wounds under his fingers. There was nothing like that on his homeworld. “You got any other scars you wanna show me?”
“Ah, quid pro quo, Mavic.”
Oh,that was a game he was familiar with and Mavic flashed him a grin before unbuttoning his shirt down to his belly. Revealing that his colony markings went down his chest and sides in a winding pattern and the scar where keelbone met abdomen.
“So I got shot.” He flicked his mandibles. “Not as interestin’ as a plant takin’ a nibble. Did have a pyjack nibble me once when I tried to pet it… But anyway, that’s my impressive scar. Healed up and I transferred right outta the field and into the garages where it’s safer, y’know?”
Crassus was staring at him, at the scar or his tattoos, Mavic wasn’t totally sure and he couldn’t read his expression at all…
“Also, I got those.” He said and shifted a little awkwardly with his shirt fanned open. “Took the artist ‘bout three days cuz they go all the way, y’know?”
He quirked his mandibles. “All the way?”
Mavic wished Crassus wasn’t toneless; he had no idea if the giant was flirting with him or not. He kind of wanted him to be. “Y’know,” He winked, testing the waters and letting his own tones drop into something of a crude register. “All the way. Into my pants.” His fingers also dropped to rest on his belt. “Wanna see?”
Crassus gave that deep, rolling laugh. “Maybe some other time.”
so, i’ve done it. here’s a ranked list of men in mass effect judged by their sexyman potential from yours truly.
if you somehow are blissfully unaware of what a tumblr sexyman is, hereandhere are some links that explain it. it’s a very cursed concept that has become a topic of discussion among self-proclaimed internet experts and a sociological phenomenon among tumblr users. and as a questionable lover letter to the mass effect fandom, here’s my mass effect sexyman ranking.
if your fav is here, please don’t take this personally. also, not every single male character from the series will be listed, just the ones with the most sexyman potential. original trilogy only because i have yet to finish andromeda.
these have been chosed based on 1) sexyman traits listed here and 2) fandom reception towards them.
Inspired to write about Tali yesterday after a really interesting discussion with my students about the fantastic poem ‘This is Not a Humanising Poem’ by Suhaiymah Manzoor-Khan.
***
As Tali got closer to the front of the line, she leant past the person ahead of her to catch who it was at the desk that day. A human. Damn it.
The Turian clerks were easier. She could make jokes about how the new flavour of dextro shake from Zakeramart tasted like vomit (she hadn’t tried it herself; couldn’t afford it, but she’d heard two Turians talking about it in the queue the day before), or how sad it was that the dextro deli in Kithoi ward was replaced by a Sirta outlet (she’d never been. Even if she’d had the credits, they didn’t serve Quarians). Talking about food was always a safe bet. A great leveller.
Or she could mention that she was from a military family; throw in the words ‘honour’ and ‘service’ a few times. It didn’t always go down well, but she’d sometimes get a response.
“Really? My dad was a Navigator in the Turian seventh fleet.”
That had been a good day. The clerk had given her a blanket as well as the basic ration bag.
Her own prejudices came out as well; that’s what she hated about it the most. She’d assumed all Turians had an uncle/high-school friend/ex-neighbour who was in C-Sec, so she’d clumsily made a comment as an officer walked past the Welfare Office:
“Our Citadel Security do a great job, don’t you think.”
Fifteen minutes later she’d finally managed to empty-handedly extricate herself from the lecture on jack-booted fascists.
There was a regular Asari clerk who had proven tough to crack. Tali started off being plain old friendly: not too desperate, but not too chirpy either. A card-carrying member of the merry destitute. So stoic. So hopeful. Positive things come to positive mindsets… not much different from the everyday small injustices of “success breeds success” or “good things come to those who wait”. Not everyone can afford to wait. Sometimes if you waited you starved.
Every time the Asari clerk was there, she’d throw in something new to the conversation to see what might work. What would make her look up from the desk and see a living being and not a suit rat? She talked about Asari politics, mentioned some popular Citadel bars, gossiped about vid stars. She looked up some Matriarchs who’d written about charity and attempted to name-drop them casually into her short conversation. It wasn’t until she approached the desk whistling the opening song from ‘Fleet and Flotilla’ one day that she got any kind of reaction and her first moment of eye-contact.
“You love the film too? I’m such a Shalei! My bondmate is Turian.”
Tali jumped into this opening with both feet, but clearly with too much desperation in her voice, as she saw the Asari’s face slam closed like a safe. She didn’t get a bed in the female hostel that night, or even a sad bag of rations. Desperation was poison.
For fanfic purposes, I’m soliciting opinions on why Garrus *should* shoot Sidonis. Everyone who’s annoyed that Garrus never gets to shoot Sidonis in fanfiction: here’s your chance to talk me into doing it!
…er, well, to try to talk me into doing it. I *may* have used the wrong Shepard for that… I’ll see!
clarification before i Get Into It, are you looking for reasons shepard should let garrus take the shot, or guidance for reasons behind it for the story as a whole?
Both really, but particularly why Shepard should let him or even encourage him.
excellent, my time has c o m e:
1. By the time they’re going after Sidonis Garrus has had plenty of time to think. The whole “oh he’s so angry on the mission he’s not thinking clearly” gets played up, but he’s had most likely weeks at minimum to think about and plan his course of action while not under duress or being affected by having Sidonis within immediate reach. He’s acting on a decision he came to while in a calmer headspace, so that decision should be trusted as being informed and what he really wants.
2. Shepard respects him and his choices. If he says this is how he wants to play it (see above), Shepard should have no reason to doubt him. In addition, Shepard doesn’t have the full story, all the details, the ins and outs that are informed by living it - Garrus does. It’s his choice to make, not Shepard’s, and Shepard would/should realize this as both a military person and a friend.
3. Garrus led his own missions on Omega, so this is hardly his first one. He can lead a mission and keep his head on under fire. His choices are not compromised by being on a mission or “in charge.”
4. Garrus is an ADULT. He can make his own god damn decisions - his own mistakes, if you insist on considering the Sidonis thing as such. It’s not our/Shepard’s job to tell him what to do or try to teach him a lesson at every opportunity.
5. The mission endpoint/goal was discussed ahead of time; Shepard came in fully knowing how Garrus wanted to play it. If they wanted to express concerns they should have been brought up and fleshed out in a pre-mission briefing, not in the middle of the mission.
6. On that note of compromising the mission: getting in the way of his shot. No warning to Garrus, going against his plan/instructions - that’s just fucking shitty??? Questions of respecting decisions aside, blocking the shot could give Sidonis a chance to get away that he wouldn’t have had if they’d stepped clear when appropriate, leading to mission failure - if you can’t see how this sort of thing is a big no-no in a combat/military setting, I don’t know what to tell you.
7. Something big it seems that everyone tends to forget: you the player may know that Garrus will remain loyal no matter your choice, but Shepard would not. Betraying Garrus’s trust on this could ruin their friendship or even his choice to remain on the Collector mission (I’ve read a few fics where Garrus takes time away from the Normandy after the Sidonis mission because of anger at the outcome - love that idea). If you can’t see Shepard respecting his decision, at least realize that from a practical standpoint, letting Garrus do what he decided he wants to do is the best way to make sure Shepard doesn’t lose him entirely.
8. The point of the loyalty missions is for everyone to have a clear head going into the relay, and I think that if Garrus is going to regret the outcome of the mission, he’s MUCH more likely to regret (and would experience more regret from) not taking the shot in line with his plan when he had the chance, than he is to regret going through with what he planned on and dealing the justice he feels his team deserves. For one thing, he’s very practical - plans are his Thing. Two, he’s not that self-reflective; he’s more likely to just move on than spend time ruminating now that action has been taken.
9. A point I’ve seen made in a couple of fics: Sidonis sold Garrus out, and effectively almost got him killed - almost made Shepard lose Garrus. And that’s not to mention the mental damage the whole incident caused. If Garrus didn’t want the shot for himself, Shepard could easily want to kill/hurt Sidonis themself for what he did to their friend.
I searched my blog for other posts discussing the Sidonis issue, and found two (some points may have been repeated between there and here lol): post 1,post 2
If you want to take a look at fics where Sidonis dies to see how other people have explored it, I have some listed on this rec list. Another fic I need to add to that list that I’d recommend especially given your question : illuminated in scars, a face aligned [13.8k, chapter 11 specifically for the topic at hand, but the whole thing is worth the read]; the ideas explored are based on a line in the French version that’s missing from the English version of the mission.
