For non-Shepard OC week, here’s a special ask meme inspired by the character creation options in Mass Effect 1. Reblog and tag your OCs so that people can ask you things. Or, just go ahead and post answers for as many of these questions as you like!
What is the character’s full name, and how did you come up with it?
What inspired you to create this character?
What species are they, and what do they look like? (Use anything you like - descriptions, art, outfits, face claims, etc)
Tell us a little about the world-state that they inhabit. (For example, are they active before, during, and/or after the events of the Mass Effect trilogy? Are they part of an AU?)
Share a quote, image, or song that reminds you of the character.
Does this character have a connection to any major/canon characters?
Where, if anywhere, does the character consider their home to be?
What do they remember most strongly about their childhood?
Tell us about an important relationship (of any kind) in the character’s life, and how it impacted them.
How did they end up in their current line of work?
What is the character’s greatest strength? What do they *think* is their greatest strength?
What (if anything) do they wish was different about themselves?
What’s a challenge that the character has overcome (or at least survived) during their lifetime? How did they do it?
What’s something (a person, a belief, a goal…) that your character would be willing to make major sacrifices for?
What’s a misconception that people might have about your character?
This is my magnum opus. Ostensibly gifts for my favorite band (which I have on good authority they enjoyed quite a bit ;) ) - I present weird sci-fi ocean critter portraits of clipping., ever so slightly based off of Splendor & Misery but largely based on my own feels for and appreciation of clipping. as whole. Creativity, intelligence, innovation majesty, and power of course represented by jellyfish, octopuses, and eels. Or something.
“You could aim for something besides my face, you know,” Jonathan complained, wincing as he pressed a hand to his no-doubt broken nose.
“You could stop trying to douse the entire city in your toxin,” Batman countered, shifting the Batmobile down a gear as they pulled into the main streets of Gotham.
“Touché,” Jonathan said, chuckling softly. He groaned and leaned back in the front seat, glancing briefly over at his vanquisher. A quiet fell between the two of them, settling like a heavy smog over a cityscape.
“Major depressive disorder,” Jonathan drawled after a solid ten minutes of tense silence.
“Excuse me?” Batman asked.
“Coupled with crippling PTSD, no doubt acquired through some early childhood event involving your parents,” Jonathan continued. “Which would explain the hyper-vigilance and rampant paranoia. That’s my diagnosis, at least.” Batman said nothing, hunching his shoulders and tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
“Are you taking any medication?” Jonathan asked.
“…No,” said Batman after a moment’s hesitation.
“Seeing a therapist at all?” Jonathan asked. Batman glared wordlessly ahead.
“Well?” Jonathan prompted.
“No,” Batman admitted tersely. Jonathan scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“You may get in the way of my research, but this is the epitome of stupidity, child,” he chided.
“I’m not a child,” Batman growled.
“Hmm. Could’ve fooled me,” Jonathan said, casting him a sidelong glance. Batman set his jaw and put his foot to the floor, and the Batmobile’s engine roared as they speeded wordlessly across the bridge to Arkham Asylum.