Last night I drew a funny man

I get drunk on creative impulses and need a place to vomit it on

Posts tagged mass effect

3,784 notes

htewing:

What hit me first about this is the way Legion’s headflaps flair out when he spots Shepard the first time, then has to look through the scope again. He’s surprised. He has to step back and reach a consensus of “holy fuck,” then look again. I never thought just what this is like for Legion.

It’d be like any of us meeting our favorite celebrity. 

Legion is literally fangirling right here.

This is his version of the fangirl squee.

omg I just noticed his eyebrow raise in the second gif omg Legion my bb

(Source: mintsui, via agentbishie)

Filed under epilepsy warning mass effect mass effect 2 legion

323 notes

spicyshimmy: kassa-fabrication: i’m crabby and in an art funk but mordin is always a precious babe the thing about krogan babies is that they grow up with two heroes. one is themselves, and the other one is mordin solus. because they all have the stories, right, the ones that count: of a krogan without a name, without a face, so it might as well be them—the strongest, baddest, coolest, fiercest quaddie in the galaxy, taking down thresher maws with one hand making rude gestures behind their back. they see it painted on their walls, erected in statues: urdnot wrex standing with one foot on top of a reaper and, hell, probably farting right into one of its shiny beam eyeballs; urdnot grunt mid-fall from a high window, getting ready to smash the ground to smithereens. living life like earthquakes do. that’s them, though. it’s not about what some other great krogan did before them; it’s about what a great krogan is going to do. what great krogan are going to keep on doing. but then, there’s this other force. urdnot bakara has more kinds of power than blunt force, though she’s got that in spades and she uses it when she needs to. when she wants to, as well as when she has to. she doesn’t sing lullabies, not exactly, although there is one that gets passed down generation to generation. i am the very model of a scientist salarian… the words don’t matter. it’s the tune. baby krogan run around singing it under the hot tuchanka suns, and it’s there in the dust billowing over the cracks in the earth; it beats like blood through their veins and like water under the sand. it’s in their hearts, the heart of the planet. so that’s the second hero. not even the opposite of what krogan traditionally stand for, brain vs. brawn. it’s both at the same time, how both can work together. so it’s no surprise when some of the finest alliances born a few hundred years down the line are salarian and krogan dynamic duos. respecting each other. big shoulders to carry big ideas and the ability to laugh at each other’s jokes, recognize each other’s scars. and there’s this holiday on tuchanka, too. nobody can say when, exactly, it started. (except for urdnot bakara. she knows.) it’s the day of seashells. when you hand one off to someone as a promise and they put the thing up to their ear, to listen to the way the sound of an ocean—maybe it’s one that’s already run dry; maybe it’s one that forgot how to be an ocean; maybe it’s so many years in the past it might as well be from another cycle, and you’ll never hear those waves pounding, only the distant, internal echo like a heartbeat, change that you can’t see, the way of things, the passage of time—lingers. lasts. breathes. and dies. and lives again, re-shaping landscapes. but that’s the test they’ve run. and every krogan has a collection of seashells. truth, honor. sacrifice. urdnot bakara remembers. they have been oceans. they will fight to make their echoes known.  At first I thought I was over Mordin. Then I wasn’t.

spicyshimmy:

kassa-fabrication:

i’m crabby and in an art funk but mordin is always a precious babe

the thing about krogan babies is that they grow up with two heroes. one is themselves, and the other one is mordin solus.

because they all have the stories, right, the ones that count: of a krogan without a name, without a face, so it might as well be them—the strongest, baddest, coolest, fiercest quaddie in the galaxy, taking down thresher maws with one hand making rude gestures behind their back. they see it painted on their walls, erected in statues: urdnot wrex standing with one foot on top of a reaper and, hell, probably farting right into one of its shiny beam eyeballs; urdnot grunt mid-fall from a high window, getting ready to smash the ground to smithereens. living life like earthquakes do. that’s them, though. it’s not about what some other great krogan did before them; it’s about what a great krogan is going to do. what great krogan are going to keep on doing.

but then, there’s this other force. urdnot bakara has more kinds of power than blunt force, though she’s got that in spades and she uses it when she needs to. when she wants to, as well as when she has to. she doesn’t sing lullabies, not exactly, although there is one that gets passed down generation to generation.

i am the very model of a scientist salarian…

the words don’t matter. it’s the tune. baby krogan run around singing it under the hot tuchanka suns, and it’s there in the dust billowing over the cracks in the earth; it beats like blood through their veins and like water under the sand. it’s in their hearts, the heart of the planet.

so that’s the second hero. not even the opposite of what krogan traditionally stand for, brain vs. brawn. it’s both at the same time, how both can work together. so it’s no surprise when some of the finest alliances born a few hundred years down the line are salarian and krogan dynamic duos. respecting each other. big shoulders to carry big ideas and the ability to laugh at each other’s jokes, recognize each other’s scars.

and there’s this holiday on tuchanka, too. nobody can say when, exactly, it started. (except for urdnot bakara. she knows.) it’s the day of seashells. when you hand one off to someone as a promise and they put the thing up to their ear, to listen to the way the sound of an ocean—maybe it’s one that’s already run dry; maybe it’s one that forgot how to be an ocean; maybe it’s so many years in the past it might as well be from another cycle, and you’ll never hear those waves pounding, only the distant, internal echo like a heartbeat, change that you can’t see, the way of things, the passage of time—lingers. lasts. breathes. and dies. and lives again, re-shaping landscapes.

but that’s the test they’ve run. and every krogan has a collection of seashells. truth, honor. sacrifice.

urdnot bakara remembers. they have been oceans. they will fight to make their echoes known. 

At first I thought I was over Mordin. Then I wasn’t.

(via kassa-fabrication)

Filed under bawwwwww mass effect mass effect spoilers mordin solus

4 notes

That moment when you’ve reached the end of Citadel DLC and there’s no more new dialogue when you press the interact button.

Going to sit here in a ball of depression and roll away.

Filed under mass effect citadel dlc

43 notes

Got shots back from my buddy, Corey, of my starter ME costume! I say starter because I’m pretty sure I’ll be doing multiple costumes from ME, and I just needed to start on something easy that wasn’t likely to make me rage quit. Also renegade Femshep is the fucking best.

Jacket was made from things that were laying around the house, though it turned out to be difficult patterning wise, which is why lol look no boobs. I didn’t use enough rigid collodian to make my scars as dimensional, at the same time though, I’m pretty sure I would have ripped off more skin than I did when I tried to clean that shit off 8D

Photo by Corey: http://mindfall.deviantart.com/

Okay, now I need a friend to come over and cast my head because I got drell and turian heads to make. Also, ignore my bad salute, my hand is overextended like whoa.

Filed under bioware cereberus commander shepard mass effect mass effect 2 mass effect cosplay renegade renegade femshep shut up bioware and take my money femshep