LCDR Jane Shepard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thebioticwoman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2017-10-28 03:12 am
thebioticwoman) wrote in legionworld2017-10-28 03:12 am
Entry tags:
[GoT] Good Ol'-Fashioned Alignment Swap
Who| Shepard (Renegade flavor) and unsuspecting Legionnaires
What| your teammate is suddenly a ruthless dick with extensive and glowy facial scars, sorry
Where| around
When| during Game of Throne
Warnings/Notes| Lethal gun/hand-to-hand violence in the Sim Room prompt, plus a general warning that Renegade Shepard is an antihero and has done some nasty stuff (for example: beating up a restrained prisoner, allowing noncombatants/captives to die because saving them would have inconvenienced her, abetting/outright committing more than one cold-blooded murder.) She won't do a murder on Legion World or anything, but her past actions might come up.
Extensive scars mar Shepard's face, glowing red-orange from where the cybernetics peek through, evidence that her resurrection was never quite completed to specifications. Her eyes too have an unnatural glow, red behind the green and completely overtaking the pupils. Anyone who's been paying attention can be reasonably certain that unless she's been doing an absolutely stellar job with makeup and contacts since her arrival, those weren't there yesterday.
The other signs are subtler, and with the stakes so low, why wouldn't they be? The fates of worlds aren't affected by whether or not Shepard busses her own tray in the mess or excuses herself when she bumps into someone. It could simply be written off as a bad day if not for the evidence literally shining through that something more is afoot.
A. Gym - Shepard can bench a good couple of tons now, and frequently does, exercise a long-ingrained habit despite her improved cybernetics meaning she can neither lose nor gain strength or tone. Given the improved metallurgy of the 31st century, she's not quite strong enough that she has to use one of the specialized machines, and just as well. Free weights are better for form.
Not that it matters. With a disgusted noise very different from a grunt of exertion, she finishes one last press and lets the bar slam down into the bench supports with a crash of metal on metal. What's the point? All she's doing is burning calories in exchange for zero accomplishment.
Even with her new and exciting inconsiderateness, Shepard's not far enough gone that she'll leave her weights sitting for the next person to deal with, at least not if she doesn't have anything better to be doing. Most of 'em couldn't even lift the plates, anyway. One by one she she pulls off and racks the weights, her simmering bad mood leading her to make a hell of a racket as she lets them clang against each other, not caring who she might be annoying.
Screw this.
B. Sim Room - Anyone who's run one of Shepard's marksmanship courses knows that she uses stylized, simplified figures that resemble holograms for targets rather than realistic sims of people. The Legion's rules being what they are, she doesn't want to desensitize anyone to shooting actual sapient beings, stun rounds or no. That's not a bridge it's easy to cross back over once you've paid the toll.
Which is why it's really weird to find her unloading a shotgun into a perfectly-simulated virtual person, who proceeds to crumple to the floor and leak perfectly-simulated blood everywhere. Shepard looks up at the next wave, feral grin spreading across her scarred face. Her blue-white biotic aura flares, but instead of anything anyone's seen her do before, she all but teleports, a streak of motion that phases through the half-wall standing in her way, closing the distance in a split second. The impact of her charge sends one of the attackers flying backwards and out of the fight, judging by the magnitude of the thud of a body introducing itself to a wall, but the group still substantially outnumbers Shepard. After a moment of surprise, they jump her en masse with the requisite "get her!" of the overly confident. No sportsmanship programmed into this sim, apparently.
After another few moments, it becomes clear that the simulated thugs have made a tactical error. The crunch of breaking bones and accompanying cries of pain replace threats as Shepard thins out the opposition. A broken nose here, a ruined knee there--while she doesn't seem to be trying to kill, she sure isn't going for the gentle takedown. Spinning around, she stops an incoming punch by catching the man's fist with her hand, then twists. He and his shattered wrist go sprawling on the floor, tripping up one of his buddies in the process. Shepard sniffs dismissively, rolls her shoulders, and points at her non-simulated observer.
"You gonna help, or are you just here for the show?"
C. Wildcard - Roll your own!
What| your teammate is suddenly a ruthless dick with extensive and glowy facial scars, sorry
Where| around
When| during Game of Throne
Warnings/Notes| Lethal gun/hand-to-hand violence in the Sim Room prompt, plus a general warning that Renegade Shepard is an antihero and has done some nasty stuff (for example: beating up a restrained prisoner, allowing noncombatants/captives to die because saving them would have inconvenienced her, abetting/outright committing more than one cold-blooded murder.) She won't do a murder on Legion World or anything, but her past actions might come up.
Extensive scars mar Shepard's face, glowing red-orange from where the cybernetics peek through, evidence that her resurrection was never quite completed to specifications. Her eyes too have an unnatural glow, red behind the green and completely overtaking the pupils. Anyone who's been paying attention can be reasonably certain that unless she's been doing an absolutely stellar job with makeup and contacts since her arrival, those weren't there yesterday.
The other signs are subtler, and with the stakes so low, why wouldn't they be? The fates of worlds aren't affected by whether or not Shepard busses her own tray in the mess or excuses herself when she bumps into someone. It could simply be written off as a bad day if not for the evidence literally shining through that something more is afoot.
A. Gym - Shepard can bench a good couple of tons now, and frequently does, exercise a long-ingrained habit despite her improved cybernetics meaning she can neither lose nor gain strength or tone. Given the improved metallurgy of the 31st century, she's not quite strong enough that she has to use one of the specialized machines, and just as well. Free weights are better for form.
Not that it matters. With a disgusted noise very different from a grunt of exertion, she finishes one last press and lets the bar slam down into the bench supports with a crash of metal on metal. What's the point? All she's doing is burning calories in exchange for zero accomplishment.
Even with her new and exciting inconsiderateness, Shepard's not far enough gone that she'll leave her weights sitting for the next person to deal with, at least not if she doesn't have anything better to be doing. Most of 'em couldn't even lift the plates, anyway. One by one she she pulls off and racks the weights, her simmering bad mood leading her to make a hell of a racket as she lets them clang against each other, not caring who she might be annoying.
Screw this.
B. Sim Room - Anyone who's run one of Shepard's marksmanship courses knows that she uses stylized, simplified figures that resemble holograms for targets rather than realistic sims of people. The Legion's rules being what they are, she doesn't want to desensitize anyone to shooting actual sapient beings, stun rounds or no. That's not a bridge it's easy to cross back over once you've paid the toll.
Which is why it's really weird to find her unloading a shotgun into a perfectly-simulated virtual person, who proceeds to crumple to the floor and leak perfectly-simulated blood everywhere. Shepard looks up at the next wave, feral grin spreading across her scarred face. Her blue-white biotic aura flares, but instead of anything anyone's seen her do before, she all but teleports, a streak of motion that phases through the half-wall standing in her way, closing the distance in a split second. The impact of her charge sends one of the attackers flying backwards and out of the fight, judging by the magnitude of the thud of a body introducing itself to a wall, but the group still substantially outnumbers Shepard. After a moment of surprise, they jump her en masse with the requisite "get her!" of the overly confident. No sportsmanship programmed into this sim, apparently.
After another few moments, it becomes clear that the simulated thugs have made a tactical error. The crunch of breaking bones and accompanying cries of pain replace threats as Shepard thins out the opposition. A broken nose here, a ruined knee there--while she doesn't seem to be trying to kill, she sure isn't going for the gentle takedown. Spinning around, she stops an incoming punch by catching the man's fist with her hand, then twists. He and his shattered wrist go sprawling on the floor, tripping up one of his buddies in the process. Shepard sniffs dismissively, rolls her shoulders, and points at her non-simulated observer.
"You gonna help, or are you just here for the show?"
C. Wildcard - Roll your own!