<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/Ey3kNQB.jpg)</div><br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">NAME:</span></strong>Ashton Chase (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=335654.msg15965992#msg15965992)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">RACE:</span></strong>Human<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">OCCUPATION:</span></strong>N7 - Alliance military<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">DATE:</span></strong>December 18th, 2174 CE<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">WEARING:</span></strong>Scuffed, battle scarred and faded (https://i.imgur.com/ZBZ0RtB.jpg)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">LOCATION:</span></strong><strong>Enlil</strong>. Docking Bay Victor-12, Pavilion<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">CONTENT:</span></strong>Where's my happy ending?<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: arial black;">TAG:</span></strong>All | OPEN<br/><br/><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><div align="center"> ___________________________________________________________</div><br/>“And just like that, the magic was gone.” What did you get when you crossed a viral outbreak with the Council and their unleashed Spectre? A political nightmare that both amused Ashton Chase to no end, and filled her chest with frustration and anxiety. The human could only speculate as to why the Alliance hadn’t responded to any of her attempts to make contact with any of them… none of her conclusions provided any comfort. It was one thing to blast the moon to high hell in an attempt to cover up their tracks, but sending a Spectre just meant things were likely to get worse.<br/><br/>Suddenly the idea of this outbreak becomes more daunting and less of a sick joke. She was a little more motivated to understand the ‘why’ of it all.<br/><br/>Ash made sure that none of the civilians she spent time protecting were in need of medical services, and then flicked her Omni-tool to silent when the Spectre made his grand speech. Maybe she wasn’t in the mood to listen because the fun of this chaos was starting to melt away. Or maybe she was just cranky because the party ended before she could really start to dance.<br/><br/>She had really wanted to vent out her frustration by punching someone in the face, so that’s what she was intending to do. “Hey, you! The<em>gran bastardo</em>!” She made no attempt at subtlety, speaking directly to the tallest cybernetically-enthusiastic man she had ever seen. “You see which way those turian douche-bags went from your vantage point way up there? The ones with yellow face paint.”<br/><br/>The N7 craned her head around, frowning. “Speaking of turian assholes… where’s that runt that has my smokes?”