Hi , Littleswiss is here. Thank you for all of your support and waouh I didn't expect the contest to have all these oc. So please, do not be angry with me if I didn't pick yours. And As I said before, for the OCs that I selected, there will, maybe, be some differences to fit in the story. Thank you for all of your ideas. Do not hesitate to leave a review to state your opinion and to help me stating what should be improved etc. thank you.

Quest Q: maybe I don't really know but yeah it is a possibility.

Rongladiator : No I didn't mean like that. What I meant was he creates graves, he walks on the graves of his enemies. He's walking tank and death is following him. Is that clearer? If not, do not hesitate to tell me and I will try explaining.

So whitout any delay, here chapter 11.

I don't own mass effect or all of the possible pop culture's reference.

Thought

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Third person pov

Today was not his day. First he was awaken by someone banging against the front door of his mess of an apartment, more like a single room with a bathroom and the bare strict minimum of furniture. When he got up from his bed, he started walking towards the door but he stumbled against some scraps metal parts and fall head first on the floor. And when he finally got up from the floor to open the door, what greeted him was his "landlord", a big man in all the senses of the term. He was accompanied by his two goons. He didn't even have the time to blink that the goon on the right griped him and started dragging him. And after that he was, without any hesitations, threw out of the building by the same goon.

"Listen here Crevan," started the landlord in his Scottish accent." Until I have the money that you owe me, you will sleep in the street, clear?" When he finished he turned around and entered the building with his two goons. Asshole thought Crevan. He picked himself from the floor and dusted himself. By luck, he was already in his attire that consisted of a knee level dark gray coat with a lot of pocket, a black hoodie under the coat, a murky green cargo pants with also a lot of pocket , heavy duty boots and his beloved backpack. The reason why he was already in his attire was he was so tired yesterday that he fell asleep clothed.

When he finished checking that he got everything, he started walking randomly into the slums. He kept walking until he found, in his own term, a good looting spot. And by that it meant a spot with a lot of junks. I think I get the jackpot. And without any delay, he started searching or looting in his terms for salvageable electronics components or anything that he thought he could repairs and after that selling what he fixed. Yes he was a scavenger. While he was struggling to see what he had in his hand, a beeping sound caught his attention. It was hi VI spider bot, that he named Pip. Its lights were pointing at a card chip.

"Nice. Good job Pip." He said tapping gently on his VI. He took the chip and with the light from the VI he could see it. It is surprisingly in good condition and if I'm correct it could maybe be the missing piece for it. When he picked it and placed it in one of the many pockets he had it started raining. He took his hood and placed on his head. And because of that he couldn't continue his looting. He took Pip and placed it in one of the front pocket of his coat.

While he was walking under the rain, he started thinking about his current situation. It had been three months and a half since he arrived in Vancouver. It may be short time however a lot can happen in that period: like to get used to the death and misery of the slums, how to defend oneself (he had to learn the hard way.) and the worst, for him, was the hunger. For most people, the hunger can be hard, but it was especially for him. He was not an ordinary scavenger, he was a biotic scavenger. So the extra calories he needed, well, he didn't get them. It explained his current body: it tended to be skinny.

He continued to walk for 15 minutes when he came across the window of a random shop and he stopped walking. He could see his reflection from the distance, but not the details so he got closer to it. When he was 60 cm from it, he could saw how he had change. His hair was their naturally brawn, shoulder length but most important, it was really messy. His skin was pale and his eyes discolored. His right was grey and the left was green. Originally they were both green but when he was five, he had an accident with some dangerous substance falling into his right eye. But it wasn't that that caught his attention, it was his cheeks. They were a bit hollow. Damn I really need to eat more, but I don't have enough money. Well I don't have a choice.

He started walking again and this time he had a destination: The Bazar. It was a little shop selling everything in the slums. It was also one of the few shops where you could sell stuff. He arrived at his destination after half an hour of walking. Contrary to the other buildings, it was clean, well as clean as it was possible for the slums. He walked towards the door and entered. It was like before. The place was clean; everything had its own alley. Everything was sorted by category. The shop was, in his opinion, the only one like that. Well it could be explained by the character that was the person owning the shop. He was an aging dark skinned man with a lot of wrinkles. His hair and beard were grey. He look up from the counter where he was counting something.

"Oh, it's you." He stated. At that Crevan walked towards him while he was taking his old backpack into his hand and put it on the counter. At that the owner smiled. While the young man was searching into his bag, the owner was making place on the counter so that Crevan could show him what he got. When he finished, the owner took a look.

"Hmmm. Well most of it is in somewhat good condition. I think I will take this and this and the pistol." When he finished taking what he wanted and transferred the credits to Crevan, the old owner told him:

"Are you sure you don't want to sell your little robot? I could make you a price." He asked. At that Crevan made no with the head.

"As you want. But that's too bad." He told the young man. After that the owner told him goodbye and Crevan got out of the store.

Damn it didn't give me enough to pay off my debt but just enough to eat for a few days. At that his stomach made itself known. Fuck. I need to go… there.

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First person pov

Recruiting, recruiting… but who? I don't know how to do it. Think, think, think… Maybe I could try here, in my "territory". Yeah, I think I will do that. The question is how? I can't really placate posters with me pointing at the people saying "I want you in my group" or making some door to door.

I take some sips from my bottle of ryncole still thinking about my current problem when I hear the front door open and, like every time, everyone stop what they are doing and are looking at who just enter. I look up from my bottle and take also a look. What I see surprise me. It's a kid, no more than seventeen, skinny, with a coat that seems a little bit big for him and it has a lot of pockets, same for his pants. He's tall, for a human of course, and I would say that he is around 6 feet, give it an inch or two. He looks nervous, very nervous. His body is tense and he shots obvious looks at every one and when his gaze falls on me, he froze. But he quickly recovers, gulps and walks towards the counter that is the only where some places are still free. But the places directly on my right and left are the ones who are still free. When he sees this, his discolored eyes get big and he gets even more nervous as I can see some drops of sweat dropping from his face. He finally choses the one on my left. At that the bartender appears.

"So what will it be for you young lad?" Ask the French bartender. The kid take a moment before answering.

"Do… do you have something to eat?" Yep, he's still a kid, his voice is shaky, and I think it's due to the stress.

"Yes I do. And what do you want?" ask the bartender again.

"The meal with the most calories please." Hmmm strange. Ok now it's Holmes time. I take a quick look at him. His clothes are used, he is skinny. So he has little money. He must be living in the slums, that the only part of Vancouver for the one who has little money. His coat and pants have a lot of pockets and he got a backpak, for what? It means that he needs to take a lot of things. Conclusion: he's a scavenger. He also skinny and even if he didn't get food often he mustn't be this skinny. He also order the meal with the most calories and that's a lot of calories. I know that because that's what I order when I eat. So many calories for a human? It screams biotic. Results: A young biotic that turned scavenger to survive.

"And here for you, young man." Says the bartender to the kid. What he got is a big stew . Damn he must be really hungry because he jumps into it and starts eating like a damn wolf. I take several sips form my bottle and stat thinking again about my problem. I was about to finish my bottle that the door open again and that the same with everyone. But this time it's the somewhat regular of the tempest. His name was hmmm… Cosmo something. Cosmo, what name is that? Back in my days names had a damn sen…. And I sound like an old grumpy man. He's out of breath and tries to catch it.

"They're back… and they are not happy… they got doc in hostage." He finishes and takes a deep breath. Who's doc? If they are the little punks that I swept the floor with some weeks ago, this time no mercy, at all. I get up; take my shotgun in my hands and say:

"Show me."

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Third person pov

Today was not her day. First she was overboard at work in her clinic. That could be explained by the fact that it was a free medical clinic, so practically everyone went here to receive health care and other medical stuff. And secondly when she was finally finished and was about to go home, seven armed thugs just waltz into her place, hit her with the butt of one of their riffle and started screaming at her to tell them where they could find a certain Garen. She told them that she didn't know where he was. It was true.

She had heard about him some days ago and she did not know what to think about it. From what she had heard from her patients, she saw this Garen as a "relatively positive & stabilizing" influence on the neighborhood.

"Hey are you listening to me?" Said one of the thugs hitting her in the face with the butt of his pistol. She could taste some blood in her mouth. The thugs look up at her, literally because she towered them all with her 6 foot 6. She was Caucasian with short blond hair and blue eyes, an athletic build with a small c-cup, she must had some Scandinavian roots. However it was not all of that that caught the attention, it was the three faint parallel scars she had on the left cheek to the jawline.

"Listen I already told you that yes I have heard of him but no I don't know where he is." She calmly told them. His answer? Pointing his gun at her.

"I don't think you understand I said…" But before he could finish his sentence, the door just flew and crushed one of them, killing him. When the smoke cleared, what she saw made her blink. The thing than just destroyed the door, her door, was a krogan. She wasn't the only one surprised, because when the thugs saw him, the one who hit her said:

"You." She could hear all the hate in that voice. But then the krogan responded:

"Me." Directly after that the alien charged with a roar, grabbed the closest one and threw him through the window. The two that were near the door, minus the one who flew out of the window, started shooting at him but to no effect. He charged at one, grab him and head-butt him so hard that his head exploded. Without a pause he shot in the face the other one with his shotgun.

Well she couldn't just stay there and just watch. While the one who hit her was distracted she grabs his head and knocks it against the all, knocking him out. Before his two "friends" could react she used her tactical cloak that she may or may not have "liberated" from a criminal. While cloaked she sneaked behind one thug and stab him in the throat with her 6 inches knife. Before the corpse could fall, she took the gun from its hand and used it to shoot the remaining one three times.

It was over. All the seven thugs were dead. Wait there is still the one who was thrown out she thought. At the exact same moment a gunshot was heard. After some seconds a redheaded man wearing a red and black armor with an Irish leaf entered her clinic.

"You forgot one, however because I'm a nice guy I took care of the problem." He said in a mocking tone. The krogan stare at him and in response to that, the man just made a cocky smile. The krogan just snorted at that. But after that he grinned and that was a little scary.

"You know what, all three of you interest me." Wait three? When she finished thinking that she saw a teenager appeared, probably hidden behind the wall where the door was.

"So from now on, all three of you are going to help me with the neighborhood.

At that, the three were thinking the same thing: What?!

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Annnnnnnnnd it's done. Phew that was exhausting. Again thank you for all of your OC but I couldn't take all of them, so do not be sad of I didn't pick yours. Please do not hesitate to leave a review to tell me if it's good or what should be improved or to ask me something about it. So until next chapter.

Thank you,

Littleswiss.