Disclaimer: I do not own, nor make any money from anything you might recognize, and several things you will not recognize. I do not own Mass Effect, Halo, Stargate, nor any other can of worms that I may open.
Author's Note: I am only listing the Disclaimer once, so pay attention to it. Also, this story is un-beta'd, and if anyone wants to volunteer that would be much appreciated. This is my first real attempt at a story, so constructive criticism is appreciated. No one wants destructive criticism.
Also, this is a Self Insert fic! If you don't want to read a story like that, there's a pair of nifty buttons on your browser: one points left, and the other is a big red X. Press them. Also note that this is now a crossover fic. Ye Be Warned!
This fic is rated M for a few reasons. While it may not merit that rating yet, it will very soon. There will be rape, death, blood, gore, drugs, mild bouts of humour, and the occasional incident of wild monkey sex.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
AN2: This story will not actually contain any wild monkey sex.
(This chapter has been edited for grammar and spelling. And it only took 1 year, 8 months, and two days! Obviously this is not a true update, more like a revision. I may actually spend some time writing more for this. Who knows?)
Greetings, All! On this the two-year anniversary of my original posting of this fic, I give you chapter two! Rejoice!
Voyages of a Wet Blanket
(Formerly Displacement in Mass...Effect)
Chapter One: Showers Are Dangerous
I guess in stories like this the protagonist introduces him or herself. But in this tale I'm going to skip that and get straight into the meat of things. Psyche! Just kidding.
Hello, my name is Rick Anderson. That's right, my name is Mr. Anderson. Matrix for the win. I'm about twenty years old, and I stand at about six foot one. I'm fairly fit, about as much as the next guy. I have short, messy brown hair, and a very light tan. I'm Caucasian, and I currently reside in Canada. That's right, I'm a Canuck. My eyes are grey, and I have to wear glasses with pretty thick lenses. I'm fairly skinny, and mildly athletic. I tend to wear blue or black clothes, mostly jeans. Bizarrely, I hate cold weather, which is somewhat confusing considering where I live.
Anyhow, I was going about my morning in my usual manner, i.e. roll out of bed, shave, and then shower. I can't complain about my life, reading, doing schoolwork, and playing video games with my friends.
Today is Tuesday. I'm not sure about you, but for me, Tuesday generally sucks. You've already caught up with your friends after the last weekend, and the next is nowhere in sight.
As I step out of the tub after my shower, I lose my footing. With a voice crack of surprise I plummet to the floor. The last things I notice are a blur of blue and a shrill scream, and then darkness.
(Some time later)
Holy crap, slipping out of the shower hurts. In addition to a German Shepard sized headache, it feels as if someone kicked me in the ribs a couple times.
As my battered mind struggles towards coherency, I take stock of my surroundings. I seem to be lying on a bed in someone's bedroom. I know it's not mine, because it's way bigger and softer than mine. My bed is fifteen years old, and is a single bed. This monster is Queen-sized at least. I notice that I am currently naked, and this raises alarm bells in my head. I don't have a girlfriend, this isn't my house; what the hell is going on here? As I try to sit up, I notice another very important fact. I'm tied spread-eagled to the bed frame. This is inconvenient. Inconvenient, hell, this is bad. How did I get here? Was I drugged? Have I been raped? I start to panic, thrashing at my bonds. If the situation were different, I'd probably call this kinky, but my conditions are a bit too dire for that.
*Ahem* I hear someone clear their throat. Crap, I didn't notice anyone in the room. I can't say who they are, but I can tell that someone is sitting about five meters away to my left, in the corner. Would this be a bad time to remind you that I can't see anything clearly if it is more than six inches from my nose? Suffice to say they could be anyone, making any facial expression, and I wouldn't be able to tell. Stupid genetics. Anyway, there is someone sitting in a corner off to my left. I'm going to assume they tied me up, and hope that their agenda is moderately non-hostile.
"Who are you? Why are you here? How did you get here?" The person asks in a sultry female voice. If this was a Bond movie, we'd totally be having sex in about four minutes. Wishful thinking, Rick. My luck sucks.
Now that I know that my captor is female, I'm feeling a little less confused. "Who are you? Where am I? And how the heck did I get here?" I ask, ignoring her questions. We sit in silence, and I imagine she's glaring at me, but then again, how would I know? I squint into the dark corner where she sits, and am only able to make out a couple colours. Blue, black, and white. Mystery solved, my captor is wearing clothes. That makes me feel better. The chances of me being raped or having been raped are considerably lower. But we're getting off topic, now aren't we.
We stare at each other for a moment. At least, I'm trying to stare, as my vision isn't worth shite. Well, this is awkward. I don't really feel like keeping this going any longer, and so I introduce myself.
"Hello, my name is Rick Anderson, and I'm twenty years old. Now would you please tell me where I am, and how I got here? The last thing I remember is stepping out of the shower, and slipping." I say, trying to fight down a blush as I remember that I'm currently wearing only my birthday suit.
"My name is Mosvani, and I'm two hundred and some years old." Wait a second, did I hear that correctly?
"Sorry, I must have heard you wrong. Did you say you were two hundred years old?" I ask, hoping I had just misheard. With a voice like that there is no way in hell she's that old. She sounds like she's thirty. At the oldest.
"That is correct. One would be lead to believe that you have never met an Asari before." Wow, Mosvani is talking to me as if I'm three or something. Wait, where have I heard that name before? "And from the way you are squinting, one could also assume that your vision is impaired." Well, without my glasses I'm literally blind, or thereabouts. But on to more important things.
"Um Although why I would want to go out dressed only in a bed sheet I have no idea. I start pounding on the door, and am pleasantly surprised by the fact that it opens. Behind it stands a figure in a white and red uniform with orange patches on the sleeves. She, and yes, I know that she is female by the curves of the uniform, has red hair and is looking at me in astonishment. I guess she doesn't normally have twenty year old Canadian boys appearing from nowhere in her life. Guess it's time for me to introduce myself.
"Erm Thanks for opening the door. Um Yeah I suppose he would require some clothes, and perhaps an apology." Thank you Mosvani! Melding would definitely provide proof.
"I'm all for melding. I'm not crazy, and I'd really like to prove that. I'd also like to know how slipping while getting out of the shower transports me to another universe." I say hopefully.
"I too am curious as to how you appeared as I stepped out of the shower." Mosvani says calmly. Dang, I'd really like to be able to hold my cool like that.
"Very well. I'll observe, in case anything goes wrong." Dr. Michel says.
"What could possibly go wrong?" Mosvani asks. No, she did NOT just say that. I'm starting to get nervous here. I try to interject: "But-"
"Relax. Embrace Eternity!" Mosvani declares. Images flash through my mind, and suddenly my world is consumed with pain, pain of a magnitude I've never felt before. I scream in agony, as my muscles, nerves, and very being cry out in indescribably agony. I recover my sight briefly, and observe my world tilting onto its side, as both women rush to catch me. And the world goes black again.
This time, I regain consciousness in Dr. Michel's clinic. Ow, whatever happened hurt a lot. Every single muscle in my body, as well as what seems to be every nerve, is on fire. Not a small fire either, like a candle or campfire, no this is a fully-fledged prairie fire. If you haven't got the idea yet, I hurt. And on top of that, I have the mother of all headaches. I feel really, really tired too. I think I might Holy crap, that means she could die! I rush over, and start helping Dr. Michel.
"Gunshot, upper left shoulder. Subject: Quarian female. Suit breach with blood exposed to non-sterilized atmosphere. Antibiotics needed." I say, as I feel the knowledge flash through my mind. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? Ah well, dwell on that later, I have to help save a life. I reach into where I store the antibiotics-wait, I don't store antibiotics anywhere. What is going on? Did I somehow access Dr. Michel's memories or knowledge? I kind of think I did. This is weird. I grab an immunobooster, and peel apart the Quarian's suit so that I can inject for maximum benefit. I depress the injector button, remove it, and smooth back down her suit. As I do so, my fingertip brushes her blood-slicked skin, and that feeling returns, but way more intense. My skull feels like someone just dumped a Semi-truck full of stuff into it, and every cell on my body is screaming in agony, and the world goes black. Damn, there seems to be a pattern emerging.
Well, this is definitely a habit. At least this time I snap to a commendable level of alertness. And a good thing too, as I hear raised voices. I get off the bed, and discard the sheet, knowing that it will cause noise, and hinder my goal of remaining undetected. I quietly slip through the open door, and hide behind a pillar. Hey, I recognize this scene! It's from when Shepard comes looking for Tali, who went to the clinic because she was shot One I most definitely did not know before today A FemShep. Red hair, green eyes, and drop-dead gorgeous. Too bad Alliance regulations prohibit hair past the chin. Well, time to introduce myself to the locals.
I stride forward, and extend my hand towards my favourite soon-to-be-Spectre. "Hello, I'm Richard Anderson, you can call me Rick." There, I am no longer a nameless NPC! Yay!
"I thought humans were too weak to do anything without clothes. Huh." Oh, thanks Wrex, I really wanted to remember that I'm not wearing clothes. I believe I'm blushing bright enough to light a candle. I didn't know I blushed that far down. I'm saved by the door, which opens to reveal Mosvani, with a bag of clothes. Praise the Lord! No more Exhibitionist Rick! I snatch the bag from her hands, and dive through the door to the room I woke up in. I put on my clothes and return just in time to hear the group discussing I think he could be helpful. You saw how easily he took out those thugs, didn't you? We could use help like that. He has stealth skills, that's for sure. And he knows how to use a pistol; he took out that guy in under a second. He could be a great asset." Why thank you, Chief Williams!
"Alright, fine. Mr. Anderson can come with us." Says Commander Shepard with a slight smile in her tone.
I walk into the room, trying not to make too much noise. Most of the people have their backs to me, and even Dr. Michel, who is facing me, is distracted. I ghost up behind the Commander, until I can measure the distance in inches. Heheheh. This is going to be fun.
"Glad to hear that, Commander. I look forward to assisting you in this endeavor." I say, trying to surprise her. The "Eeep!" I hear informs me of my success. She whirls around, and before I know it, her fist is headed toward my face. My left hand whips up, and catches her punch.
"Good reflexes." I complement her.
"You too." She replies. I'm quite content to stare into her eyes, as they are exquisitely beautiful, but Garrus has other ideas.
"*Ahem* We should probably go see Fist about that Quarian." He suggests. We all nod, and we head out after saying goodbye to Dr. Michel and Mosvani.
Shepard's POV, Twenty Minutes earlier.
After recruiting the Krogan mercenary, Wrex, I lead my team to the Med Clinic, in search of Officer Vakarian. I open the door and come face to face with a very unusual situation. Dr. Michel is being threatened by two of Fist's thugs, while an unknown white haired young man is strangling a third thug, without the others noticing. I bring up my weapon as one of the thugs moves to hold Dr. Michel hostage. Before I can react, the young man, who is quite obviously nude, moves into position with the speed and grace of a striking viper. He reaches around, and breaks the thug's neck with a vicious twist, and catches the thug's pistol, and proceeds to shoot the last thug. The sheer skill involved in the undertaking, as well as the finely-tune military precision, leave me impressed. His body also leaves me impr-Dammit Amanda, not while you're on the job! I shove my mind out of the gutter as he walks up to me with his hand outstretched, and an easy grin on his face. "Hello, I'm Richard Anderson, you can call me Rick." Hell-o! Mrowr! Down girl! I chastise myself, as while his abs are delicious, I probably shouldn't stare. Before I can greet him properly, Wrex brings back reality.
"I thought humans were too weak to do anything without clothes. Huh." And with that, Rick turns red. Aw, he's embarrassed! So cute! Before anything else can happen, an Asari steps through the door, carrying a bag of clothes. Wait, why doesn't he have any clothes? Not that I'm complaining exactly, I'm just wondering. Anyway, the poor man grabs the bag and rushes out to the room off to the right, and dives through the door with a somersault. I think I can hear Garrus mutter something about "Wish I could do that."
At this point, Gunnery Chief Williams speaks up. "I think we should ask him to help. He is clearly competent."
"He doesn't seem as weak as many of the humans I've encountered. He faced three armed men while stark naked. He's worthy." Wrex says in his rumbling voice.
Garrus isn't so sure. "Is it really a good idea to invite a civilian onto an investigation like this? Does he have any experience? Why is he here in the clinic anyway?" He asks, turning to Dr. Michel, who by this time seems to have calmed down.
"Rick is in the clinic because he had an adverse reaction to an Asari mind-meld. A second after Mosvani here uttered 'Embrace eternity,' he screamed in agony, collapsing in a twitching heap. We brought him to the clinic to try and discern what went wrong, and found some odd brain scans. I was going to check on him when a Quarian came in for treatment for a gunshot wound. While she was here, he came in garbed in a bed sheet, and somehow came up with the same diagnosis that I did, and went to the drawer that contained the treatment. He administered the immunobooster, and was smoothing her suit back in order when he seemed to have another episode, this time with his hair changing colour. He fell to the ground, clutching his head. Mosvani was out shopping for clothes as he doesn't have any." She added almost as if it were an afterthought. "I'm not sure what happened to him, as my equipment is not advanced enough to say what really changed in him. What I can tell is that his DNA has most definitely changed. His hair is white all the way down to the roots, and even below. I cannot explain what happened to him, or how he got in our apartment. It's a mystery." Dr. Michel finishes, throwing her hands up in the air.
Here Ashley Williams pipes up. "Why not recruit him? I think he could be helpful. You saw how easily he took out those thugs, didn't you? We could use help like that. He has stealth skills, that's for sure. And he knows how to use a pistol; he took out that guy in under a second. He could be a great asset."
"Alright, fine. Mr. Anderson can come with us." It doesn't hurt that he's handsome too-Dammit! You can't think of him like that, it's unprofessional.
"Glad to hear that, Commander. I look forward to assisting you in this endeavour." Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.
"Eeep!" I can't stop my reaction, and I whirl around my fist flying toward his face face. His left hand whips up, and catches my punch.
"Good reflexes." He compliments in his deliciously soft accent.
"You too." I reply. I'm quite content to stare into his entrancing eyes, but Garrus has other ideas.
"*Ahem* We should probably go see Fist about that Quarian." He suggests. We all nod, and we head out after saying goodbye to Dr. Michel and Mosvani.
Author's Note: Well, there you have it, the first chapter of my new story.
Your Reviews Are Appreciated!