✧@sundove requested her OC Green Flame in 5C! Thank you so much for the request! ✧
✧ And with that, all requests are finished! Thank you to everyone who sent one in! It really helped with my art block and they were really fun to do! ✧
The next (and hopefully last) rework of the tarot card for my Hawke. Markus Hawke is a humorous Rogue with a rather bitter progression. Some of his milestones include: Carver and Bethany died, no one romanced, sided with Templars, Anders executed, Viscount of Kirkwall.
I imagine Hawke to rule as Viscount in solitude and, because he has got no one left to make a stand against the growing Lyrium corruption within Kirkwall, he leaves the city to its fate by responding to Varric’s call for help. He then finds purpose (and love) with the Inquisition. He needed a break from saving people’s asses anyway…
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.”
@ariakitty is the last moodboard winner and then I’ll start on the drawings/cartoons but this will be a slow process because I suck.
Anyway, here is a moodboard for lovely Lumen who is a badass assassin of the Dark Brotherhood in her Skyrim Fic. She’s deadly, lustful, and fiercely loyal to the family she’s created with the members of the Brotherhood. I love her.
Thought I’d make a reference post (I’ll also put this on a separate clickable page at one point) to my characters in Vale so y’all know whomst the eff I’m talking about most of the time. Also it’s weird that I never considered calling this story something other than Vale. I remember seeing someone’s WIP on here that was called DUO or something and I loved the short, one-word title so I was like yoINK
Context:Caelmoor is an island, a kingdom, a city, and a country at once because this way I can easily avoid word repetition within a paragraph/sentence. That’s all there is to it.
There’s a terrible infestation spreading all over Caelmoor called the blight. It’s a white, web-like material that spreads on every surface it touches but it also spreads in the air, like spores.
When one gets in contact with it through touching, inhalation, or ingestation it plants itself in the person’s intestines and starts expanding until getting inside every organ and vein, and then bursts the body open, creating both an infestation on the ground the body’s on and spreading blight particles in the air. It spreads slower in cold weather so fire is extremely effective against it.
However, the king of Caelmoor has no desire helping anyone other than downtown Caelmoor where the richest of the citizens live. The residential district (working/middle class) and the shanty town (the poorest of the poor) can only count on each other.
Anyway, character time! Since only one chapter is out it will contain slight spoilers for chapter 2-3 because we’re still in the set-up but nothing too severe.
