— Some nights come easier than others. Some nights, she manages to sleep without struggling to find peace in her consciousness. Some nights she’s able to forget her past for a few hours.
Some nights she can’t forget at all.
Every moment of the beach fronted planet is sealed in the lieutenant-commander’s mind like a vid replaying over and over. She remembers nearly having to deal with Wrex had Shepard not calmed him down; she remembers the then-Captain Kirrahe’s speech; and she remembers her parting words to Lieutenant Alenko.
“You know it’s the right choice, LT!”
”No! Shepard, go get Ash!”
Some nights Ashley sits up, swings her legs over her bunk to ground herself with her feet on the cold floor. To remind her of her reality. That she’s here on the Normandy — and he isn’t. That she’s here fighting against reapers, monsters her rifle can’t take out with rounds alone.
A hand brushes through her thick hair. It’s grown so much since back then, though she’s tempted to just cut it all off for practicality’s sake. To move on, to finally let go and change herself for who she’s become.
Change always happens, but there’s one part of her past she can’t let go of. The memory of serving alongside someone who gave his life for the mission, despite the difference in rank, and despite the fact he was a rare biotic and she was just a soldier. It’s a decision Shepard has taken full responsibility for, and yet…
Part of her wonders still what Kaidan’s thoughts would be about the war, and about their situation. About how she and Shepard have become more than friends now.
It’s the fact she prays to be able to hear him voicing those thoughts aloud that always wears her thin. Every night, he’s always in her prayers, hoping that wherever he is, God’s keeping him safe.
It tests her faith — to stay loyal in such circumstances tests even the most faithful. And yet, she stays strong.
She lost a friend that day on Virmire, out of her control; but she will never lose herself if she can help it.
I’m sorry I haven’t been on Kirrahe very often later. In addition to having a lot of schoolwork I’ve been suffering from a very low muse.
As a result I’ve been forgetting threads/taking far too long with replying and I apologise to those who have been kept waiting. I’ve had Kirrahe for almost two years now, and there’s no way I want to drop him as a character, but I feel like I should officially say that I won’t be on him much until I start feeling more in the mood to rp him.
I hesitate to call this a “hiatus” because I have threads and plots with people, so it’s not like I’m cutting off all activity. Basically I won’t be making starters anymore unless specifically requested to, and my replies will still be super slow aha. If we have a thread and you’re not on this list please let me know because that means I probably won’t remember to reply.
Hopefully in the next month or so I’ll start to feel more inclined to rp him. If anyone does want to rp with him and doesn’t already have a thread with him, you can message me or make a starter yourself. In the meantime you’re more likely to find me on my personal or my Mass Effect oc blog.
Brow ridge up at that snap he wound up smirking. “That is true, isn’t it? It is a shame however, that that is so. I am surprised, to you believe me at this point, Major? I remember our first meeting you were skeptical of me.” He spoke, tone underlined with punctual amusement as he moved idly, a slow pace from side to side. Probably more of an antsy desire to move rather than stand still.
"I’ve heard a little of your task force, some brief research out of curiosity. I look forward to your secrets then. I will face them in full, honorably."
"I’m not sure if I do, frankly, but we didn’t believe in Reapers, either." He sighed out through his nose. Kirrahe stood with his legs at shoulder’s width, adopting a rigid posture. This… person, be he Protean or something, thought salarians were weak. Kirrahe was determined to prove him wrong. “You believe you are Prothean. I may not believe you, but I don’t see any sense in arguing about what you are or what you aren’t. You’re here to help, that’s what counts.
"You’ll have the upper hand, then. If you are a Prothean, then there is not much I can do to research your preferred tactics. From what I’ve seen of your architecture you value function, not form." He had seen Prothean-made buildings that resembled parking lots and not living spaces.
She perked up at his words, happy she didn’t have to argue her usefulness. Her size, age, and stature often had her disputing and, in most cases, following against the will of the very people she offered to help. Her work “uniform” also didn’t help her case any…
"The door leads out back, towards the alleys and garages. Further down is the bridges but," She laughs nervously, "you’re friend would be in a lot pf trouble there…" She fidgeted a bit thinking about it. The redlight district was well known for its rise and fall of many gangs that changed almost like the weather. Over those bridges was the hideout for one of the major gang heads— a place she was told by too many to never go to. She perked up when he spoke again, not paying attention to his turning gears at all. Smiling when he said she could help. "Ah- of course! My name is Lucky. Lucky Nasurn."
"My friend can handle himself relatively well." On a good day, anyway. Alcohol might slow his senses, but Kirrahe could fight even after a couple of drinks. Not that he knew from experience. "I’ll meet you out there, then. I won’t go far, but I may as well do something while you’re up there." He checked the door to see if it was open, catching a glimpse of the dark alley behind the building before the turian spoke.
Despite the night taking a turn for the worse that made him smile. “Nasurn happens to be my homeplanet,” he said. “Perhaps it’s a good omen.” He was well aware that relying on omens meant he was a touch desperate, but it couldn’t be helped. “My name is Kirrahe. Good luck on the roofs. I’ll be out here.” And then he was gone, vanished before the door had even shut behind him.
"You don’t know what you have until you’ve lost it."Independent OC RP blog set in the Mass Effect universe.Neil Song. 23. Small-time Smuggler & Part-time Baker.♠ Open for banter and prose.
♠ Open to crossovers & AUs.
♠ Set during Mass Effect 3 (willing to rp both before/after)
♠ OC-friendly.♠ Activity sometimes limited by class schedule.
Salarians — Voice Actor Motivationals
She nodded sympathetically. “I understand how that must feel. Security detail is not an easy job, but it can get pretty dreary at times. Anyway, your skills are better suited to the battlefield. To have to come back from something like Virmire to a desk job…” Tali remembered her own restlessness after returning to the Migrant Fleet. She wanted to be out there, helping to fight the Reaper threat, but her sense of duty had won out.
"I sympathise with C-Sec now. What it must be like to do it on a wider scale…" He frowned in thought, glad that he could focus on the Council Chambers and the areas directly surrounding it. "I didn’t go straight here from Virmire. The security measures are in place due to the heightened threat of assassination brought on by the Reaper invasion. After Virmire I… rested for a few months, then moved onto the Terminus Systems. That is until the business with the krogan females began. I’m sure Shepard told you what happened."
She watched him carefully as he examined the blood, giving the verdict that it was not in fact belonging to the person he was searching for. Almost feeling a sympathetic wave of relief until she noticed him tense right back up. Someone was bleeding. And if it had to do with his friend… She’d be tense still too. And she did tense up. Her omnitool buzzed three times. Her suspicions were confirmed, the asari was replacing her for the night. She had nothing to hold her back.
"Where do we go from here then?" Her voice sincere, she wanted to help. "Garuk never said he doubled back and I don’t think he’s hiding in anyone’s locker here. I could take to the rooftops. See if I can’t spot him or something that might clue you in."
Lucky’s mind was racing. Trying to guess as to where an injured human might go or where a salarian might hide. Living here in the lower wards she learned most species flocked towards their own. They didn’t mix as much as in the markets or the mid wards did. If these two, she hoped it was only two, weren’t at a hideaway or a grouping area… They were likely in the dark lit maze of alleys the redlight district was known for. A place of drunks and corpses. She’d never hope they’d be there. But from the looks of things, they might.
"Where does this door lead?" he asked, gesturing to it. Kirrahe glanced back at the turian, surprised by her helpfulness. Usually strangers wouldn’t spare so much as a minute of their time to help, especially when foul play might be involved.
Kirrahe hummed lowly, considering her offer. He often found it difficult to find anything on the roofs of the Citadel. So much was connected, half the time there wasn’t even a roof to speak of. “If you believe it would help, then I’d appreciate it.” Before she could say any more he spoke again. “But before you go, I don’t think I got your name.”
“Good to know that some things don’t change no matter the species.” Shepard wasn’t against clubs or loud bars with even louder music. In her younger days, she reveled in it, especially with the other N-designated soldiers she trained with. But after Torfan, her heart and mind hardened, and she grew less interested in the wild shore leaves followed by the unpleasant hangovers.
To see Kirrahe caught off guard by her question was a surprise, but one that was more humorous than anything else.
"If I was going to uplift a species… I don’t think I’d pick the yahg." And maybe it was simply because personal experience soured the prospect for her, but Shepard knew that the yahg were just as brutal as the krogan, and just as dangerously intelligent as the salarians when it suited them. "I’m surprised your species is still willing to continue the uplifting process, considering how the krogan turned out."
"Yes, even salarians enjoy a good party. Though the expectations of a ‘good party’ differ somewhat between species." That and salarians weren’t as likely to engage in typical mating behaviour while in public. Still, even that had its place in places like Illium. Most species turned a blind eye to salarians as a romantic prospect, but asari… were a different matter.
"Mm," he said with a sigh. "Neither would I. I don’t think I’m the only one who disagrees with the experiments, either. I can see the logic behind uplifting a species. As… unpleasant as the krogan turned out to be, I do believe that if we hadn’t uplifted them we wouldn’t still be here. The same logic might be applied to the yahg, however, they’re bigger than krogan. And more intelligent, too." Almost frighteningly so. "Chances are they’ll uplift themselves one of these days, assuming we don’t get there first."