Imageshack.
us
/g/1/10078077/
Okay. put that link together, and it should lead to an imageshack album full of images of my Shepard, which are almost perfect i think, other than some minor details perhaps, involving enjoy. and yes to those of you who have played Half Life. i did name my Shepard, after the one in Opposing Force, heh ahh loved that game.
Still fixing some of those minor flaws in the features, but mostly its perfection... just having trouble with the brow and eyes i think.
PS. not sure if i would actually call this finished, but I think it'll do for now.
Adrian Shepard, winced as he looked at himself in the mirror, and wondered when he'd gotten to looking so bad.
Adrian ran a hand over his chiseled features, comforted only somewhat by the dark roughness of his facial hair and ran his thumb over his soul patch.
he'd always enjoyed the soul patch, it was about the only form of facial hair he generally allowed himself, but lately he had been considering what he'd look like if he actually let himself grow out a full beard... if only to hide how bad he looked without one at least.
According official records, I'm now 34 years old. Shepard thought gloomily, but I look closer to 43, my cheekbones are becoming more pronounced, and I swear my hairline didn't used to go that far back... is that a gray hair?
Shepard shook himself and sighed. It hadn't been a problem for him before, caring about what he looked like, a possibly receding hairline... a potentially graying hair, it just wasn't like him to get worked about that stuff damn it!
5 years ago, when he first got to the Normandy, he'd had some moderate sized facial scars running across his face, one across his forehead, another across his face crossing right over the bridge of his nose, and another smaller one on his upper lip.
He could have gotten surgery to have em removed, a lot of soldiers did for the sake of those they cared about, who didn't like looking at such things, reminders of how close their beloved heroes had come to death.
Be he... hadn't had anyone to do that for, and hadn't wanted anyone either. he'd been fine with his rugged harsh features, his hooked nose, and the grim intimidating look on his features. it had fit in perfectly with the image he meant to project to those who stood against him.
but then, he'd met Tali, and Garrus and Ashley!, and hell even Wrex, though certainly the Krogan had never given a damn about how Shepard looked, hell they'd even bonded somewhat over their similar facial scars.
He'd met them... and things had changed completely, he hadn't intended for them to change so dramatically, but they had, for him at least.
they'd given him a reason to care, about his life at least, and about his methods of handling things.
But even then he hadn't cared too much about his physical appearance, no that had come later with the, Lazarus Project, and most especially... its overseer, Miranda Lawson.
When he'd been with Ashley, she'd been a fellow soldier like him, and she hadn't cared enough to remove any of her scars either, and had in fact taken pride in some of them... and he'd taken a great deal of pleasure in... getting to know them.
but then he'd died, and when he'd been brought back to life... all of his old scars had disappeared, a side effect of being burned up in a planet's atmosphere and then having all new flesh regrown.
When he'd first seen himself in the mirror after his resurrection... he hadn't entirely been sure who he was looking at.
All of his old facial scarring was gone, but more than that! he looked younger, fresher, rejuvenated his flesh had been silky smooth, and not haggard in the least!
he'd looked like a damned swim star, with healthy moisturized skin, without any signs of any of the hard use that the earthborn soldier named, Adrian Shepard had been through.
Still, even then he hadn't experienced any sort of increase in vanity; he'd just been offput by his sudden change in appearance. No caring about looks hadn't happened until later, until he had saved Miranda's sister, he'd accused Miranda of being jealous because he had better achievements than she did, despite all her perfected DNA work. and then!... they'd kissed... it had been a really good kiss.
Soon enough after the initial kiss, he found himself in a relationship with her... and he'd suddenly found himself... caring for no apparent reason, about his appearance. he'd started remembering to shave regularly, trim the soul patch a little, and keep his hair in a somewhat respectable... yet tousled style.
Miranda hadn't asked him to do any of it, hadn't even given any sign that she even cared... but he'd wanted it, he'd wanted to be nice looking and... more importantly deserving of her. He'd wanted to be at his best, to look his best... all for her. He still wasn't used to that, to feeling like that.
Sure, he'd had moments with Ashley, where he'd wondered if her family would approve of him, but he hadn't really ever worried about it, perhaps because he hadn't actually been that deeply invested in the relationship, he had tried to be as into it as she appeared to be, and he had definitely cared for her in his own way, but he just hadn't... felt that deeply devoted and openly emotional about it, he hadn't felt that epic electricity... at least not compared to what he felt now every time he thought about Miranda Lawson.
Adrian sighed and wondered off out of the bathroom and over to the window, to peer out across his native homeworld, the homeworld of all Humans, for all its sins.
A smile quirked the corner of his mouth as he recalled his youth in Mother Russia, working with the Reds, fighting for scraps of food, beating the snot out of other kids in the pits. times had been hard back then, but simple, he'd had something close to family, he'd had one steady friend with benefits; who while she may have been nearly as ugly as a Batarian, had definitely possessed some considerable skill and passion in the bedroom... or more properly in the igloo, or hole, or whatever they happened to be forced to refer to generously as home back then.
Things had been simple, direct and understandable. He had to fight for his food, protect what was his, and beat the everliving crap out of anyone who stood between him and his goals. easy and uncomplicated, he hadn't even had to worry about taxes. (The IRS don't generally bother hobos, at least not Russian/Irish ones, we bite.)
Shepard sighed and shook his head, remembering the look he'd last seen on Udina's face. Still, Shepard supposed that it wasn't all bad, as he rubbed a thumb over his thin soulpatch, and his eyes wondered over the land settling briefly here and there on bits of activity in various areas, before finally settling for good on a lone child clad in jeans and a grey hoodie running around in circles and holding some object in his hand and obviously having a good time.
Before he'd met Miranda... he hadn't ever thought of ever settling down out of the Military, he'd always figured that he'd just keep going till he got too old and weak for the duty, or till some merc got lucky, and he'd just die... no retirement, not for him.
He had intended to keep going on as long as he was able until the day finally came, and he found himself staring off into oblivion, and if by some miracle he did live to forced retirement age, he'd had every intention of going to either Tuchanka, or a Batarian colony, and pissing off enough people till they got together in a group to take him down; Just like how the gangs on Omega had tried to do with Garrus.
He'd of liked to have gone out in some Krogan ritual on Tuchanka if they'd let him, spending some quality time with the only species he could really relate to, if only because he was about as pragmatic as any of them as well as hard headed, and both he and the Krogan species had grown up in what amounted to the slums.
Pretty much the only difference between world of Tuchanka and Adrian's hometown... was that Tuchanka had thresher maws and was a helluva lot hotter than the slums of Russia.
Although he did suppose that, Russia was somewhat prettier as far as land went, viciously colder, but prettier.
But then that probably would have been bad PR for the Krogan, so he probably woulda chosen a Batarian planet to die on, let the Batarians take the heat for his death, instead of the already far too used and abused Krogan, who were just starting to get their own two feet under them once again.
yes... Tuchanka, or a Batarian world, those woulda been his preferred places for ending it all. Until he met Miranda... Adrian thought about Miranda.
Tall, lithely muscular, unbelievably stunning, with her long brown hair, utterly gorgeous features, her rapier wit and cutting tone of voice that brooked no argument, easily the smartest woman he knew... well the smartest one he'd ever dated at least, and that rare genuine smile that could stop Mordin mid-sentence,.
Even when he'd been with Ashley, he hadn't actually thought of settling down with her, stick with her a long while, yes, meet her family, maybe even have a quick wedding... but he hadn't thought either of them would really live long enough to even propose to each other probably, nevermind kids...
Kids. Adrian frowned and eyed the object in the child down below's hand... he was pretty sure it was toy spacecraft... it had a somewhat familiar shape to it.
Adrian sighed, and rubbed tiredly at his eyes. He and Miranda had never discussed children before, but he knew that it wasn't likely to happen, at least not naturally. he'd seen the Shadow Broker's info on her, he knew that the genetic tampering of her father, had effectively eliminated any possibility of him getting her pregnant... but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
It was a testament to just how much he'd changed since his early years... that he had actually devoted valuable time and thought to ways around Miranda's sterility.
First and most obvious method of choice... was adoption, but the idea didn't exactly appeal to him, and he very much doubted Miranda would ever choke down her pride to broach to him. So he'd crossed that one off the list.
Second was surrogacy, also not an idea choice, given that it'd just be his DNA. and it would likely hurt Miranda, as much as anything else to have his child... and have it not be her's.
And so, he'd finally come up with the ultimate solution... which may or may not appeal to her... and he wasn't sure how to broach the subject with her even if he ever got out of this pampered cell that was his!
His solution was relatively simple, but he was proud of it nonetheless... though it would probably touch upon something... unpleasant for Miranda.
His idea... was for Miranda to take some of his DNA and her own, and create a child with it, in something akin to a cloning facility... in a much similar method as how she and her sister Oriana had been created... it was hardly ideal given the emotions it'd stir up, but given their limited options... he was pretty sure it was about the only way for them to have a legitimate child.
And he did want one... not now... exactly, but someday... definitely... maybe when he actually did hit 43 or so, if he wasn't locked up for good, or the Reapers didn't exterminate them all that was.
*Fucking, two faced politicians!* Shepard mentally snarled as he slowly discerned... that the object in the child's hand... was in fact a model of the SSV Normandy. *What the hell is taking them so long to make up their minds already! either they believe that the Reapers are coming, or they don't and they have me hauled off to the actual brig with metal bars and everything!*
When, Lieutenant Vega walked in, saluted him and told him that High Command wanted to see him personally.
Adrian gave one last look at his reflection in the window, tried not to wince again, and let the Lieutenant lead... Has my hairline really always been set that far back?!