DiamondJack
Most Call Me Jack
"Welcome to the Citadel..."
-
This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Fandom Mass Effect: Tales from the Citadel [Reboot]
- Thread starter DiamondJack
- Start date
"Welcome to the Citadel..."
DiamondJack
Most Call Me Jack
The Citadel was bustling as per usual. The news was rife with the latest victim of Crucifix being discovered on Zakera Ward in the Warehouse district. Captain Jay Cutter was investigating the scene.
"Exactly 9 days since the last one," said Cutter to another officer, "This is insane. How does this guy keep avoiding cameras? I'm starting to think the Keepers are doing this."
---
The Exotic Alcoholic was busy. Jasper Cox was just one of many bartenders that moved from customer to customer making sure everyone was taken care of.
The Vid Screens in the bar were playing a news segment that was some sort of interview with a Turian politician.
---
That was the reason why he was brought in. Indanian was the best Spectre at finding people who didn't want to be found that the council had at it's disposal at the time. The Crucifix killer was running around scaring the people of the Citadel. From what Indanian understood this guy was only killing people that were breaking the law. On a personal level Auleus identified with the guy. Both he and the killer worked from the shadows to eliminate threats to the common man.
"Justified homicide is still homicide Indanian," the Salarian councilor had said to him.
For now Auleus was walking through a marketplace on the Presidium. He was in the market for some furniture for his new luxury apartment. In Auleus' mind he was going to be on the Citadel for a while given that this guy had evaded C-Sec for 90 days and had killed at least eleven people in that time.
Auleus had already been introduced to the homicide units around the station and was already getting hounded by reporters. The general public wasn't even supposed to know that Indanian was linked to the investigation but one of the cops must've let it slip, which gave Indanian a suspect.
Auleus walked up to a furniture dealer and began browsing the catalog.
"Hey, aren't you that Spectre?" asked the dealer.
Indanian let out a sigh.
"Exactly 9 days since the last one," said Cutter to another officer, "This is insane. How does this guy keep avoiding cameras? I'm starting to think the Keepers are doing this."
---
The Exotic Alcoholic was busy. Jasper Cox was just one of many bartenders that moved from customer to customer making sure everyone was taken care of.
The Vid Screens in the bar were playing a news segment that was some sort of interview with a Turian politician.
---
Auleus Indian
Auleus had only been on the Citadel for three days and he was already sick of it. Everyone there was too 'civilized' for his liking. Indanian stayed on Omega most of the time. Out there he was able to work pretty much undetected when eliminating threats to the Council didn't even know it had.
That was the reason why he was brought in. Indanian was the best Spectre at finding people who didn't want to be found that the council had at it's disposal at the time. The Crucifix killer was running around scaring the people of the Citadel. From what Indanian understood this guy was only killing people that were breaking the law. On a personal level Auleus identified with the guy. Both he and the killer worked from the shadows to eliminate threats to the common man.
"Justified homicide is still homicide Indanian," the Salarian councilor had said to him.
For now Auleus was walking through a marketplace on the Presidium. He was in the market for some furniture for his new luxury apartment. In Auleus' mind he was going to be on the Citadel for a while given that this guy had evaded C-Sec for 90 days and had killed at least eleven people in that time.
Auleus had already been introduced to the homicide units around the station and was already getting hounded by reporters. The general public wasn't even supposed to know that Indanian was linked to the investigation but one of the cops must've let it slip, which gave Indanian a suspect.
Auleus walked up to a furniture dealer and began browsing the catalog.
"Hey, aren't you that Spectre?" asked the dealer.
Indanian let out a sigh.
DatDemon
I'm your best frienemy!
Nihhlus Kryik
The ship Nihlus chose on Omega, to get back to the citadel and maybe even back to the life he once had, was one of many transporters that traveled this route on a daily basis. The pilot, a human, had no crew apart from the two guards, watching over the wares in the storage room. Nihlus obviously had to pay the pilot some credits to come along.
Nihlus was wearing his usual armor from his life as a spectre combined with a turian helmet he picked up after one of his jobs. He did not want to take any chances of being recognized before being on the citadel. The helmet was completely black with single red stripe on the left side and a gold tinted visor.
The pilot of the transporter was a nice enough guy, to not ask too many questions about who he might be dealing with here. Maybe the weapons Nihlus was carrying were also a reason for his behaviour. But as long as Nihlus caused no trouble and stayed in the backcabin of the ship during the ride, all would be fine and dandy. This was just as the Ex-Spectre wanted it. Now he had a little time for himself, before stepping into the public again. As always, he was very calm about the whole situation and did not think too much about what could happen after arriving on the citadel. He used the little break before the storm to maintain his weaponry and think of the places he would visit first, after arriving.
As the ship then finally docked to the giant spacestation on dock H-67, the turian got off the ship without even saying anything to the pilot or the two guards. They did not even notice him leaving. Nihlus instantly blended with the crowd as good as possible and was heading for the presidium.
Last edited:
Viper Actual
Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
Karl
To most people being filthy rich in the Citadel would solve most of their issues. Rent, debt and dreams all required credits to take care off, right?
Wrong. Money didn't buy you everything as evident by Karl, currently seated in the living room of his very expensive apartment, who was struggling with a major case of writer's block.
As his fingers hovered above the holographic keyboard in front of him he hesitated; he just didn't feel it with 'it' being a mixed sense of inspiration and drive. When he set out to start writing a book he had no idea it would be so difficult- who knew how hard it could be to force a thousand words out of yourself every day while also doing so in a logical and exciting manner?
Karl certainly didn't. He sighed, rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers upon which the keyboard vanished. He yawned and got up from his chair, stretched his back and lazily walked over to his living room window.
Looking out at the Wards below filled to the brim with life and activity Karl sighed to himself again.
How can I live in such an amazing place like this and still not have enough inspiration?
Karl already knew the answer to his own question: his characters were nothing but fiction, rather than being based on real people.
Perhaps I can pull some strings? Interviews? Ride-alongs?
The thought was indeed interesting. Karl glanced over at one of the far walls which was filled with framed photos of planets he had visited, personal pictures and pictures connected to charity events. There were also trinkets and items, such as a disabled Geth rifle left behind during the attack on the Citadel
Following that attack Karl had intensified his investments into charities and reconstruction efforts and was one of few anonymous investors that had pitched in to help the people of the Citadel get back on their feet following the horrible attack.
Because of this generosity Karl had many favors to call in. Politicians, businessmen, C-Sec officers and many others had received much-needed help through his investments.
Karl grunted and scratched his chin. All he needed really were two unique and fascinating people that he could base his book characters on. There was no need to pester everyone who owed him, no, instead he'd just pick carefully.
Then, as fate would have it, his train of thought was disturbed by the thought of someone opening the front door(s) and stepping into his apartment.
Looking around he was met by the beautiful, warm and fierce appearance of Kasia, his first wife. She was dressed in her usual crimson dress to perfectly encapsulate her bright skintone and further intensify her eyes.
Kasia, currently carrying a purse and a bag of groceries, spotted Karl and rolled her eyes. "Karl?"
Karl suppressed a yawn. "Yes, my beloved ex-wife?"
"Why haven't you gotten dressed yet?"
Karl glanced at his loosely-fitted shirt and pants. He wore nothing on his feet.
"I was writing?" He said, somewhat casually.
Kasia grunted. "Nice try. Go get dressed. You have that thing in an hour?"
"That thing?" Asked Karl, eyebrows raised.
"Your charity event with the widows of deceased C-Sec officers."
"Oh..."
Kasia nodded while unpacking the groceries on the counter. At the same time Karl began to make his way towards the stairs leading to his room and, as he did, spoke aloud:
"Most men would consider themselves lucky to be cared by their divorced wife."
Kasia glanced up just in time to see a grinning Karl vanish into his room. "Most men would insist on finding a new place to live after their divorce," she said in a low tone.
Last edited:
ThatGuyWithSouvlaki
Lucky Laki Malakis
Thalia sat back on her chair and sighed looking through the reports of the blue suns activities in the lower wards of the Citadel. She was in her cubicle at C-Sec, one of the all too few times she could actually be found at her desk. She usually either out in her undercover work or investigating a crime, gathering a large pile of paper words until the last moment they needed to be turned in. She disliked the desk job, she liked being active talking and investigating. To be sitting behind a desk meant she either had nothing to do or was at a dead end in her investigation and most of the people knew that. To be at her desk was like admitting defeat to them.
Not that she could do anything else though. She was part of the taskforce to find the crucifix, she was one of the inspectors that visited the crime scene of the last murder and scoped the scene. There was little to go on in terms of evidence at the scene, no witnesses, forensics was expected to be minimum and there was no helpful connections between this new victim and the once before. In short she was behind her desk, trying to pull at any thread she could find. One idea was trying to see if there was a link with the Crucifix and the rise of the blue suns in the lower wards. However apart from a handful of the murders occurring within or what was later become Blue Suns territory, there was little other connections. She had applied to go undercover within the gang to see what she can find with command, she was still waiting for a response.
With nothing much to do and already on overtime, she considered going home. However she doubted she would find anyone home, her bondsmate Charlotte, seemed to work similar late hours as hers with her own work. It was a pity, it was long ago Thalia had just come out of a deep undercover operation and hadnt seen Charlotte more than a couple of hours due to the work schedule. They were really past due for some private time together. She activated her omnitool and sent a message to Charlotte with a simple question: "Are you home?"
Epiphany
Not that she could do anything else though. She was part of the taskforce to find the crucifix, she was one of the inspectors that visited the crime scene of the last murder and scoped the scene. There was little to go on in terms of evidence at the scene, no witnesses, forensics was expected to be minimum and there was no helpful connections between this new victim and the once before. In short she was behind her desk, trying to pull at any thread she could find. One idea was trying to see if there was a link with the Crucifix and the rise of the blue suns in the lower wards. However apart from a handful of the murders occurring within or what was later become Blue Suns territory, there was little other connections. She had applied to go undercover within the gang to see what she can find with command, she was still waiting for a response.
With nothing much to do and already on overtime, she considered going home. However she doubted she would find anyone home, her bondsmate Charlotte, seemed to work similar late hours as hers with her own work. It was a pity, it was long ago Thalia had just come out of a deep undercover operation and hadnt seen Charlotte more than a couple of hours due to the work schedule. They were really past due for some private time together. She activated her omnitool and sent a message to Charlotte with a simple question: "Are you home?"
Epiphany
MocaPoka
Everyone shall be friends...
A quiet alarm on her Omni tool chirped the young Asari awake. The morning greeting was a recording from an Earth bird called a Robin.
Mileeya had never seen one of the birds outside of a picture or a vid; but they seemed like small, cute things. Excitable, colorful, and friendly. Flickering from Earth’s broad and brown trees with an innocent sense of adventure and free-spirited fun. The feathers they sported looked as soft as a human’s hair. Their bodies look so small and fragile; so easily crushed and short lived.
Rolling over, Mileeya untangled her blue limbs from her bed partner. The lightly tanned skinned human form snuggled into her bed and mumbled something in her sleep. So small and cute. A strange thing to think about a soldier or warrior, even if they were from one of the shorter-lived species. Still, very few humans in their military got to travel to the Citadel and almost all of those that did were well trained and honed by combat. She deserved respect and not pity.
She just looked so soft and innocent sleeping there…
With some reluctance, Mileeya went to the next room to take a shower. Entering the falling hot waters she turned on a monitor to watch the news while she freshened herself. An interview with Caetus Orolin was playing. He was someone the Asari diplomatic office was watching with some interest. Turians with shady pasts was not part of her specific concerns or duties however, so she told her apartment's VI to change the channel.
A news story was playing now of a charity event being held for fallen C-Sec officers; hosted by a human male of all things. Karl de Jaager. A late Matron staged human in Asari terms, with money and influence that tickled more than a few crests the wrong way in the diplomatic service. She had been asked more than a few times to help type up dossiers on the human and had so far avoided the boring work. Perhaps if she went to the charity event and wrote a quick report that might help her superiors to pass the Skyball over to someone else regarding Karl.
Finished with her shower Mileeya quickly dried herself and stepped back into her bedroom. Her bed partner was up and dressed. The female human glanced at her before blushing and looking down. Mileeya smiled and slowly put on casual clothing.
“You will need to return to your ship soon will you not Alexa?” Mileeya asked in human English as the Alliance Marine twisted her brown hair into a tight knot; much to Mileeya’s fascination. Human hair: especially the long kind, was an interesting thing.
“Umm… yeah. I should get back soon… sorry.”
Mileeya giggled in the way that she knew most humans liked. She waved Alexa into her eating and cooking room. With well-practiced motions she started to grab ingredients for a human friendly meal. Eggs from a bird called a turkey and meat from another bird called a chicken… or was it the other way around? Regardless she added in the needed species and oils and began to fry up the avian morning meal.
“There is no need to apologize. You have an important duty. Especially in the current times. When do you think you will be back?” Mileeya used the reflection from her fridge to look at the human’s reaction to her question. She was sitting at the table and seemed happy and content. That was good…
“I’m not sure. My XO told us hopefully in three months or so. Lots of crazy stuff has been popping up out their lately.”
“Oh? It won’t be dangerous will it?”
“I think its just patrolling the traverse. So, you never really know. I’m sure we will be fine though. Apparently we will be flying with a Turian ship. Must be a show of force for the pirates and Geth or just a partnership mission with the Turians.”
Mileeya finished cooking her cracked eggs and strips of meat. Sitting down at her dining table she ate the meal with Alexa. The young human asked her several questions about how she knew how to make “bacon and eggs” and Mileeya asked a few more questions about the possible dangers of the human’s deployment. The Asari made sure to mentally categorize everything that she had been told so that it would be easier to recall and type up later.
With a happy and fed human; Mileeya got into her skycar and programed the VI to fly them from her apartment in the Presidium to the docking bay where Alexa’s ship was docked. The fly over was smooth with traffic being minimal. Looking down, Mileeya could still see some of the lingering damage from the Geth attack. She wondered how long it would take for all the damage to be repaired and forgotten about. She also wondered if that would be a good thing or not…
With a few last kisses and promises to see each other again; Alexa was walking up the ramp to her large ship and Mileeya was flying back to her small apartment. She needed to write down her report on Cpl Alexa Turner and the new deployment timeline and assessed mission for the SSV Elbrus. Any Dreadnought classed ship movement was of concern for the Asari Republics; especially when they were human Dreadnoughts.
Back at her apartment Mileeya typed up her reports, changed into a Thessian dress, and reworked her calendar for when the humans that she knew on different ships would be coming back to the station. Jeannette was supposed to be returning in a few weeks after the SSV Cape Town finished attacks on pirate strongholds. No other human contacts or friends would be back during that time so it would make things easier. Humans often liked to be the “only ones” when it came to even casual relationships that involved intimacy. Mileeya had discovered early in her interactions with humans that it was best not to lie about other relationships, but it was also best to simply not bring it up unless directly asked.
Finished with her early work, Mileeya reentered her skycar and flew to the Asari Diplomatic Office. The day went by with normal meetings and conferences. The office was worried about the possibility of the “Crucfix Killer” being a human or Asari and causing contention between the Citadel species if so. All departments and employees were to report any sightings of the “dead” Commander Shepard. The Blue Suns were to be discouraged from their increasing activity in the Wards.
Most of the issues of concern were above her experience level so Mileeya wasn’t tasked with anything specific besides writing a response plan for the Crucfix Killer, and “making more turns” in the Wards. A polite way of saying “go to the Wards; find info and fix problems while we deal with more important stuff.” A slight snuff but atleast she had avoided more paperwork or vid citizen meetings.
In her office Mileeya sent her reports on Cpl Alexa Turner to the Asari intel service. While typing up reaction plan recommendations for the Office’s response to the Crucfix Killer’s future capture based on possible species; the Asari Maiden debated on what to do after her recommendations were finished.
Mileeya had never seen one of the birds outside of a picture or a vid; but they seemed like small, cute things. Excitable, colorful, and friendly. Flickering from Earth’s broad and brown trees with an innocent sense of adventure and free-spirited fun. The feathers they sported looked as soft as a human’s hair. Their bodies look so small and fragile; so easily crushed and short lived.
Rolling over, Mileeya untangled her blue limbs from her bed partner. The lightly tanned skinned human form snuggled into her bed and mumbled something in her sleep. So small and cute. A strange thing to think about a soldier or warrior, even if they were from one of the shorter-lived species. Still, very few humans in their military got to travel to the Citadel and almost all of those that did were well trained and honed by combat. She deserved respect and not pity.
She just looked so soft and innocent sleeping there…
With some reluctance, Mileeya went to the next room to take a shower. Entering the falling hot waters she turned on a monitor to watch the news while she freshened herself. An interview with Caetus Orolin was playing. He was someone the Asari diplomatic office was watching with some interest. Turians with shady pasts was not part of her specific concerns or duties however, so she told her apartment's VI to change the channel.
A news story was playing now of a charity event being held for fallen C-Sec officers; hosted by a human male of all things. Karl de Jaager. A late Matron staged human in Asari terms, with money and influence that tickled more than a few crests the wrong way in the diplomatic service. She had been asked more than a few times to help type up dossiers on the human and had so far avoided the boring work. Perhaps if she went to the charity event and wrote a quick report that might help her superiors to pass the Skyball over to someone else regarding Karl.
Finished with her shower Mileeya quickly dried herself and stepped back into her bedroom. Her bed partner was up and dressed. The female human glanced at her before blushing and looking down. Mileeya smiled and slowly put on casual clothing.
“You will need to return to your ship soon will you not Alexa?” Mileeya asked in human English as the Alliance Marine twisted her brown hair into a tight knot; much to Mileeya’s fascination. Human hair: especially the long kind, was an interesting thing.
“Umm… yeah. I should get back soon… sorry.”
Mileeya giggled in the way that she knew most humans liked. She waved Alexa into her eating and cooking room. With well-practiced motions she started to grab ingredients for a human friendly meal. Eggs from a bird called a turkey and meat from another bird called a chicken… or was it the other way around? Regardless she added in the needed species and oils and began to fry up the avian morning meal.
“There is no need to apologize. You have an important duty. Especially in the current times. When do you think you will be back?” Mileeya used the reflection from her fridge to look at the human’s reaction to her question. She was sitting at the table and seemed happy and content. That was good…
“I’m not sure. My XO told us hopefully in three months or so. Lots of crazy stuff has been popping up out their lately.”
“Oh? It won’t be dangerous will it?”
“I think its just patrolling the traverse. So, you never really know. I’m sure we will be fine though. Apparently we will be flying with a Turian ship. Must be a show of force for the pirates and Geth or just a partnership mission with the Turians.”
Mileeya finished cooking her cracked eggs and strips of meat. Sitting down at her dining table she ate the meal with Alexa. The young human asked her several questions about how she knew how to make “bacon and eggs” and Mileeya asked a few more questions about the possible dangers of the human’s deployment. The Asari made sure to mentally categorize everything that she had been told so that it would be easier to recall and type up later.
With a happy and fed human; Mileeya got into her skycar and programed the VI to fly them from her apartment in the Presidium to the docking bay where Alexa’s ship was docked. The fly over was smooth with traffic being minimal. Looking down, Mileeya could still see some of the lingering damage from the Geth attack. She wondered how long it would take for all the damage to be repaired and forgotten about. She also wondered if that would be a good thing or not…
With a few last kisses and promises to see each other again; Alexa was walking up the ramp to her large ship and Mileeya was flying back to her small apartment. She needed to write down her report on Cpl Alexa Turner and the new deployment timeline and assessed mission for the SSV Elbrus. Any Dreadnought classed ship movement was of concern for the Asari Republics; especially when they were human Dreadnoughts.
Back at her apartment Mileeya typed up her reports, changed into a Thessian dress, and reworked her calendar for when the humans that she knew on different ships would be coming back to the station. Jeannette was supposed to be returning in a few weeks after the SSV Cape Town finished attacks on pirate strongholds. No other human contacts or friends would be back during that time so it would make things easier. Humans often liked to be the “only ones” when it came to even casual relationships that involved intimacy. Mileeya had discovered early in her interactions with humans that it was best not to lie about other relationships, but it was also best to simply not bring it up unless directly asked.
Finished with her early work, Mileeya reentered her skycar and flew to the Asari Diplomatic Office. The day went by with normal meetings and conferences. The office was worried about the possibility of the “Crucfix Killer” being a human or Asari and causing contention between the Citadel species if so. All departments and employees were to report any sightings of the “dead” Commander Shepard. The Blue Suns were to be discouraged from their increasing activity in the Wards.
Most of the issues of concern were above her experience level so Mileeya wasn’t tasked with anything specific besides writing a response plan for the Crucfix Killer, and “making more turns” in the Wards. A polite way of saying “go to the Wards; find info and fix problems while we deal with more important stuff.” A slight snuff but atleast she had avoided more paperwork or vid citizen meetings.
In her office Mileeya sent her reports on Cpl Alexa Turner to the Asari intel service. While typing up reaction plan recommendations for the Office’s response to the Crucfix Killer’s future capture based on possible species; the Asari Maiden debated on what to do after her recommendations were finished.
Last edited:
Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
"Through his mother," Charlotte said, before waving a hand in the direction of the door between them. "I'd be happy to tell you all about it inside."
"You think I can protect you?" came a harsh laugh through the intercom.
"I think I can protect you."
A moment of silence followed by a buzz, permitting access. Charlotte Ambrose straightened the collar of her coat and slipped inside. A minute later, the interview was well underway. This was her seventh; all with Blue Suns members, all disabled or cashed out. All with a similar story and a similar narrative that a reporter like her could work into a god story. She'd need corroborating data, of course. Obviously the Blue Suns were less 'professional mercenary outfit' and more 'hired killers' but she was on the cusp of actually proving it.
An expose like this could put the screws into a morally bankrupt organization while elevating its individual members as people, humans, Turians and even Batarians alike. Charlotte knew putting a face to the normally concealed soldiers could make all the difference in public reaction. That kind of balance made a story more believable. Made a call to action stronger. Made it easier to widen the scope of the story beyond the heartless company and its victimized members to the broader galactic governments that allowed it to exist. Whose regulations and laws made it possible for something like the Blue Suns to flourish.
Two hours later, Charlotte slipped out as unobtrusively as she'd arrived. Her 'camera man' consisted of an Alliance News Network tech attached to tracking her monitors along with any footage her mobile cameras picked up. Working 'alone' made it a lot easier to hide her press credentials, saving them for when they were actually useful and not something that'd make her a target. She was fairly sure the Blue Suns hadn't realized what she was up to. It helped that she was local enough to the Citadel, most of their rank and file wouldn't recognize her given the high turnover rate in their local staff.
ThatGuyWithSouvlaki
As she debated between writing up her notes or potentially fishing out leads for another source, her civilian Omnitool pulsed and Charlotte pulled up the message she'd received. Thalia. It'd been a few years now since they'd 'bonded' and it still felt like some kind of wonderful when she saw Thalia's name come up. The Asari had charmed a naive young woman who'd just arrived on the Citadel. All this time later, it still amazed Charlotte to think she'd married her first real friend on the station.
Of course, typing a lengthy reply was annoying as hell on an Omnitool so Charlotte just recorded herself getting into a taxi. "Not home yet, gorgeous, but done with work. Meet me there? Or did you want to go out for drinks?"
DiamondJack
Most Call Me Jack
Caetus Orolin stood before a large mostly human crowd in addition to a smattering of cameras in a convention hall. Across the stage form him was his political opponent. An Asari by the name of Abigail Truman. This, of course, wasn't her real name. Caetus knew that Abigail, or whatever her real name was, loved humans. She loved them so much she wanted to be one. That was the angle Caetus was about to work.
"People of the Citadel," the Turian began, "I have spoken on my beliefs and my intentions as your representative. Today I will not be speaking about myself, I'll be speaking about her." Caetus was pointing in an accusatory manner, "Abigail is a human name. Does she look human to you? The simple answer is no. She's trying to fool you! She was an active opponent to Counselor Anderson joining the Council!"
"That's becau-" Abigail began.
"It is MY turn to speak!" interrupted Caetus, "My opponent is an impostor! She seeks to assimilate with you. She, much like all Asari, just uses your kind, humankind, to further their own species! She doesn't want to represent you! She wants to put you under her foot! She takes one of your names to fool you into voting for her! Not to mention she is an active representative of the vile Eclipse gang! Don't even give her a chance to speak! A vote for Orolin is a vote for the future of all races living in unity on the Citadel. A vote for Truman is a vote for gang violence, hatred, and the anti-human Asari agenda!"
Caetus walked off the stage as Abigail's retort was ruined by boos.
---
Auleus sat back in his new office chair. He and the movers had just finished putting all of his new furniture into his new apartment. In front of him was a desk with a terminal and an assortment of data pads.
Indanian sighed as he looked around the room that was his office. He had so many reports to read through. That Captain Cutter fellow was thorough with his paperwork.
The Spectre slid his chair back, got up, and walked to his front room. He looked out over the wards, admiring the beauty of the station.
Indanian decided he was going to the bar. He needed to blow off some steam.
---
Auleus had made his way to a classy joint called the Exotic Alcoholic. He sat at the bar telling the bartender, who was a human woman with short hair, stories of his exploits in the Terminus Systems.
He was having a good time.
"People of the Citadel," the Turian began, "I have spoken on my beliefs and my intentions as your representative. Today I will not be speaking about myself, I'll be speaking about her." Caetus was pointing in an accusatory manner, "Abigail is a human name. Does she look human to you? The simple answer is no. She's trying to fool you! She was an active opponent to Counselor Anderson joining the Council!"
"That's becau-" Abigail began.
"It is MY turn to speak!" interrupted Caetus, "My opponent is an impostor! She seeks to assimilate with you. She, much like all Asari, just uses your kind, humankind, to further their own species! She doesn't want to represent you! She wants to put you under her foot! She takes one of your names to fool you into voting for her! Not to mention she is an active representative of the vile Eclipse gang! Don't even give her a chance to speak! A vote for Orolin is a vote for the future of all races living in unity on the Citadel. A vote for Truman is a vote for gang violence, hatred, and the anti-human Asari agenda!"
Caetus walked off the stage as Abigail's retort was ruined by boos.
---
Auleus Indanian
Auleus sat back in his new office chair. He and the movers had just finished putting all of his new furniture into his new apartment. In front of him was a desk with a terminal and an assortment of data pads.
Indanian sighed as he looked around the room that was his office. He had so many reports to read through. That Captain Cutter fellow was thorough with his paperwork.
The Spectre slid his chair back, got up, and walked to his front room. He looked out over the wards, admiring the beauty of the station.
Indanian decided he was going to the bar. He needed to blow off some steam.
---
Auleus had made his way to a classy joint called the Exotic Alcoholic. He sat at the bar telling the bartender, who was a human woman with short hair, stories of his exploits in the Terminus Systems.
He was having a good time.
Last edited:
DatDemon
I'm your best frienemy!
Not only Auleus was itching for a strong drink at the moment. As Nihlus was walking through the presidium for the first time again since his "death", he really felt the amount of time and events he missed out on. Especially the damage the geth inflicted on the giant spacestation, which is now in repair, stood out to him.
The ex-spectre was not quite sure, if he should first go to the bar and there by possibly risk getting recognized and flooded with questions or first go up and speak to the council first. Both options had their downsides. He was not keen on becoming the center of attention inside a bar of all places, but neither was he looking forward to enduring the lecture, he would probably get from the council, without having a strong drink first.
As the conflicted turian then passed the 'Exotic Alcohlic', it was suddenly a lot easier for him to make up his mind. He let out a small chuckle "...more like 'Convenient Alcoholic'.", he mumbeled before entering the bar.
As he stepped into the room, he took a quick look around. Pretty much nobody was wearing a helmet in here obviously, so Nihlus decided to go over to an empty table in the corner of the bar, sat down and took off his helmet, putting it beside him. "Let's see how well my reputation held up. Probably doesn't help that I was one of the most efficient spectres of my time.", the turian thought to himself as he waited for the bar assistant to take his order at his table.
The ex-spectre was not quite sure, if he should first go to the bar and there by possibly risk getting recognized and flooded with questions or first go up and speak to the council first. Both options had their downsides. He was not keen on becoming the center of attention inside a bar of all places, but neither was he looking forward to enduring the lecture, he would probably get from the council, without having a strong drink first.
As the conflicted turian then passed the 'Exotic Alcohlic', it was suddenly a lot easier for him to make up his mind. He let out a small chuckle "...more like 'Convenient Alcoholic'.", he mumbeled before entering the bar.
As he stepped into the room, he took a quick look around. Pretty much nobody was wearing a helmet in here obviously, so Nihlus decided to go over to an empty table in the corner of the bar, sat down and took off his helmet, putting it beside him. "Let's see how well my reputation held up. Probably doesn't help that I was one of the most efficient spectres of my time.", the turian thought to himself as he waited for the bar assistant to take his order at his table.
ThatGuyWithSouvlaki
Lucky Laki Malakis
Thalia was already on the way to her car when Charlotte's reply. She smiled at the recording of her entering the taxi, see her beautiful blonde bondsmate still had the rush of excitement as the first time she had seen her. She was also glad to hear there was chance to be together properly. She stepped into her car and see to turned on her own recorder on. "Keeping out of trouble I hope? Who am i kidding, of course you haven't been. I would chastise you but your daring is why i married you." She said as she filmed herself in behind the wheel and to the empty seat next to her. "Could have saved yourself the fare, i could have picked you up like the old days.... Oh well, I suppose we can meet for a drink. The Exotic Alcoholic, i hear some good things from fellows."
She started the engine. "Either way, will be seeing you soon, love. I cant wait... Oh and no cameras we are off the record. Dont try to cheat, I will be searching you for hidden microphones this time." She added teasingly giving her wink before raving the engine for effect before sending the recording.
She started the engine. "Either way, will be seeing you soon, love. I cant wait... Oh and no cameras we are off the record. Dont try to cheat, I will be searching you for hidden microphones this time." She added teasingly giving her wink before raving the engine for effect before sending the recording.
Keggee311
Junior Member
Wurtock had better nights and he had worse nights. He preferred the wards to the Presidium, the company was better but the pay was crap. The krogan was a bit tired or was it a bit drunk, he didn't know which. Not that he really cared as he rubbed his head from a night of copious drinking.
What woke him up wasn't the two young Asari he went with to their home but the damned politician's campaign being blasted from every media output. More so that Turian, whatever the bastard's name was. He would be more inclined to castrate himself before voting for some damned Turian scumbag for office.
He was no political though… too boring of a position. Leaving the two Asari to sleep as he put on his suit. A relic from his days in the Blood Pack, while it had been a good time the vorcha just pissed him off. The looked like cockroaches, not his own saying but it fitted his thoughts on those piles of pyjak droppings. That had been the past though and Wurtock left it on that note as he slipped out of his one-time lover's apartment and on to the market. He needed a bigger knife for his Claymore shotgun.
---
(An hour later.)
Humans had been interesting. Scrawny and weak but there were a few that put up a good fight and had the quad to go toe to toe with anyone. It's why his business was primarily Humans and Asari merchants now and again. He was more likely to shot a Salarian or Turian vendor and take what he wanted.
After buying more than enough thermal clips because nothing killed like overkill. Several grenades and a combat knife for the end of his gun he was ready again for work. He sorely needed it, boredom was hell.
--
(Later on…)
Wurtock often went to the Exotic Alcoholic looking for work or trouble but he preferred to be paid to cause trouble. At this point though anything was better than slow grind, he was experiencing.
"Damn Turians." He muttered to himself as he sat down at the bar. They were everywhere in the citadel he couldn't get away for them. "Human! A drink! Ryncol and keep them coming!" A loud demand that gave him stares among some of the more civilized patrons. "And turn that damn screen off. I've heard enough Turian crap for the day!" He knew there were some Turians at the bar but he was far from caring.
What woke him up wasn't the two young Asari he went with to their home but the damned politician's campaign being blasted from every media output. More so that Turian, whatever the bastard's name was. He would be more inclined to castrate himself before voting for some damned Turian scumbag for office.
He was no political though… too boring of a position. Leaving the two Asari to sleep as he put on his suit. A relic from his days in the Blood Pack, while it had been a good time the vorcha just pissed him off. The looked like cockroaches, not his own saying but it fitted his thoughts on those piles of pyjak droppings. That had been the past though and Wurtock left it on that note as he slipped out of his one-time lover's apartment and on to the market. He needed a bigger knife for his Claymore shotgun.
---
(An hour later.)
Humans had been interesting. Scrawny and weak but there were a few that put up a good fight and had the quad to go toe to toe with anyone. It's why his business was primarily Humans and Asari merchants now and again. He was more likely to shot a Salarian or Turian vendor and take what he wanted.
After buying more than enough thermal clips because nothing killed like overkill. Several grenades and a combat knife for the end of his gun he was ready again for work. He sorely needed it, boredom was hell.
--
(Later on…)
Wurtock often went to the Exotic Alcoholic looking for work or trouble but he preferred to be paid to cause trouble. At this point though anything was better than slow grind, he was experiencing.
"Damn Turians." He muttered to himself as he sat down at the bar. They were everywhere in the citadel he couldn't get away for them. "Human! A drink! Ryncol and keep them coming!" A loud demand that gave him stares among some of the more civilized patrons. "And turn that damn screen off. I've heard enough Turian crap for the day!" He knew there were some Turians at the bar but he was far from caring.
Viper Actual
Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
Karl
Once he was dressed and ready to go it was time to head out. Karl still had a couple of hours left before the charity event would start.
During that time he had some errands to take care of with the most important one being the business of tracking down a particularly elusive spectre. After bidding Kasia goodbye Karl left their shared apartment to catch the cab he had ordered.
A quick call informed him that the spectre he was looking for had left work and gone to his favorite watering hole- the Exotic Alcoholic. While personally not much for drinking out in public Karl could still appreciate a fine drink on his own every now and then.
The drive, or rather, ride, over to the Exotic Alcoholic went quick enough. Karl straightened his suit jacket as he stepped out of the hovercar and made his way over towards the bar.
Stepping inside, Karl spotted his quarry chatting up the bartender. Chuckling, Karl made his way past a loud Krogan and seated himself next to the Turian spectre.
"Mr. Indanian," said Karl with a smirk. He had only met the spectre twice before and while both encounters had been brief they had indeed left an impression on Karl.
"Seeing as I'm still waiting on a response I figured that I'd personally extend another invite to the fundraiser I'm hosting."
Karl paused and glanced at the Krogan who yelled something about the holoscreen.
"Despite the nature of your current assignment I think most of the Turian C-Sec officers would greatly appreciate to have someone of your reputation be present to honor those that fell during Saren's attack."
DiamondJack
MocaPoka
Everyone shall be friends...
“I need a drink…” Mileeya sighed as she leaned back into the seat of her skycar, currently flying into the cramped towers of the Wards.
Her day had quickly become very annoying in the Office once a certain Turian politician had decided to pull on more than few crests, spurs, and hair. Normally the Diplomatic Office cared little for the silly politicking for positions on the Citadel, even if one of the runners was an Asari. As long as whatever election was keeping in line with the Republics’ values and Asari democracy was respected; they stayed out of it now matter how many winy Matrons or self-assured Matriarchs tried to come for their Office’s help and support.
Of course, when some Turian tried to manipulate the human populations against the Asari… that was a very different story.
Hearing the speech had even poked her crest the wrong way as Mileeya had listened to the Turian. She didn’t care if he won or the opposing Asari, Truman, lost. The only thing that matter was how the Turian won and how Truman lost. Using Asari culture as a… negative… to win an office and succeed… it was infuriating.
Few things could raise the ire of the Republics; but one of them was accusations of “assimilation” or being “anti-alien”. The fact that the Turian was pushing the humans against the Asari at this moment made the situation ten times worst (and made it her problem.) Now she had to pay attention to the stupid Turian and the dumber Asari politician in addition to her other work! Some of the Matrons in the Office were even subtly blaming her for the situation!
“Perhaps the human populations on the Citadel haven’t been guided in the right direction by the Office? Strange… one would think that young Edalas would have bolstered the humans against such base manipulation… Strange.”
…the female dogs…
As her human friends would say.
Sighing again, Mileeya parked her skycar and wandered the Wards for a little while. She was in a human styled dress; blue and white trimmed with a generous showing of her chest. The colors were the ones of the human Alliance. She needed to see if the stupid Turian’s words were having any effect and dressing as a human in their military’s colors might give her some idea.
Walking elegantly and smiling at most everyone that looked her way; Mileeya stopped in front of a bar, “Exotic Alchohlic”. It seemed a classy enough place, and she had wanted a drink anyway. Entering she casually looked around before deciding to sit directly at the bar. The bartender was a human female, which brought a genuine smile to her blue face.
“May I have a Long Island? Oh, and Ryncol as well.” Mileeya asked. Rarely did she drink the Krogan brew; but seeing and hearing a Krogan in the corner order the infamous drink made her feel nostalgic. For the moment Mileeya relaxed, caring little for the other patrons in the bar before she got her drinks.
DiamondJack
Her day had quickly become very annoying in the Office once a certain Turian politician had decided to pull on more than few crests, spurs, and hair. Normally the Diplomatic Office cared little for the silly politicking for positions on the Citadel, even if one of the runners was an Asari. As long as whatever election was keeping in line with the Republics’ values and Asari democracy was respected; they stayed out of it now matter how many winy Matrons or self-assured Matriarchs tried to come for their Office’s help and support.
Of course, when some Turian tried to manipulate the human populations against the Asari… that was a very different story.
Hearing the speech had even poked her crest the wrong way as Mileeya had listened to the Turian. She didn’t care if he won or the opposing Asari, Truman, lost. The only thing that matter was how the Turian won and how Truman lost. Using Asari culture as a… negative… to win an office and succeed… it was infuriating.
Few things could raise the ire of the Republics; but one of them was accusations of “assimilation” or being “anti-alien”. The fact that the Turian was pushing the humans against the Asari at this moment made the situation ten times worst (and made it her problem.) Now she had to pay attention to the stupid Turian and the dumber Asari politician in addition to her other work! Some of the Matrons in the Office were even subtly blaming her for the situation!
“Perhaps the human populations on the Citadel haven’t been guided in the right direction by the Office? Strange… one would think that young Edalas would have bolstered the humans against such base manipulation… Strange.”
…the female dogs…
As her human friends would say.
Sighing again, Mileeya parked her skycar and wandered the Wards for a little while. She was in a human styled dress; blue and white trimmed with a generous showing of her chest. The colors were the ones of the human Alliance. She needed to see if the stupid Turian’s words were having any effect and dressing as a human in their military’s colors might give her some idea.
Walking elegantly and smiling at most everyone that looked her way; Mileeya stopped in front of a bar, “Exotic Alchohlic”. It seemed a classy enough place, and she had wanted a drink anyway. Entering she casually looked around before deciding to sit directly at the bar. The bartender was a human female, which brought a genuine smile to her blue face.
“May I have a Long Island? Oh, and Ryncol as well.” Mileeya asked. Rarely did she drink the Krogan brew; but seeing and hearing a Krogan in the corner order the infamous drink made her feel nostalgic. For the moment Mileeya relaxed, caring little for the other patrons in the bar before she got her drinks.
DiamondJack
Last edited:
