Grace Liraz

So I'm not actually holding my breath for anyone to play any of these canons, but you can blame Mass Effect for Grace existing in the first place. I really like how they explored inter-species relationships. Garrus, Thane, and Jaal are my guilty pleasure canons and I'd be over the moon if anyone ever wanted to play them for a roleplay.

Quiet chatter and the distant whine of ships docking and departing made up the muted murmur that filled the sterile halls of the spaceport. Beyond the buzzing force fields of the port's windows, stars glittered in the wide black expanse, like the blazing eyes of a distant pantheon who had grown bored with their creation. There had been a half hearted attempt to gussy up this particular section of the station with some plants from the nearby neighboring planets, and across from the bar where she waited, Grace watched a drooping fern from Rikelous slump over in its pot in its corner by one of the docking bays, leaning ever closer to the polished metal floor beneath it. She couldn't help but relate.

Business had been slow lately, and Grace was starting to feel it. It wasn't that she was going hungry... No, Grace made enough on each job that she would be set to retire right now and then some, if that was what she wanted. She was that good. No, it was the boredom that was getting to her. This part of the galaxy had been peaceful lately, and she supposed that was supposed to be a good thing. But the longer Grace was allowed to sit idle, the longer she had to keep company with herself, and the more she had time to think, and stew, and that was never good. Like a ship beginning to rust at port, she could feel that old restlessness was starting to well up, and she desperately wanted to drown it again in a good fist fight or some Arkelian whiskey. There was nothing better to ward off the growing sense of entropy.

But neither of those options were on the table. She had nearly been banned twice from this particular space port for 'unruly behavior' already, and she was on her third and last strike before they barred her entirely, and that would be bad for business. And only idiots drank before they flew. She had a client tonight. She needed to stay sober.

Grace only hoped that this one wasn't as boring as the last. The information that she had been given on them wasn't all that extensive, and against better judgement, she had taken a job from an agency outside of her own. But the price had been right, and she would have been lying if she had said that the mystery of it all hadn't intrigued her somewhat. Grace would give the enclave one thing-- they certainly knew how to dangle the carrot. But years of personal experience suggested that the guy was probably just a diplomat or some similar politically sensitive position. Sometimes when they were on a humanitarian mission, they liked to travel in secret. Other less scrupulous parties just didn't want their mates to know where they were going. Less fuss that way, which she supposed made sense. Rocking the boat in that kind of job could be bad. But it was hardly anything new or exciting.

Either way, Grace was supposed to wait for her client here, and there was a window for her to wait where they would either arrive, or they wouldn't. Either way she would get paid. The tiny port side bar was called the Kingfisher, and it was fairly nondescript, which was pretty typical of bars in spaceports. She had arrived early to scope the spot out. Once Grace had assured herself that there was no funny business going on, she had settled herself in with a simple citrus and soda. She wasn't entirely clear on what kind of citrus had been put in the drink, and she hadn't asked, but it was sharp and sweet and gave her something to focus on other than her own fidgety thoughts.

"Attention Please..." The voice over the loudspeaker was gratingly polite and ambiguously feminine. Someone from the nearby trading system of Tolaris, Grace was willing to bet, judging by the soft burr. It might have been less unpleasant if she hadn't already heard the announcement at least fifty times already.

"As you depart, please ensure that all companion animals remain securely in their anti-gravity cages for their safety and the safety of the other passengers--" One of the docking port doors whooshed open, disgorging its cargo of travel worn passengers. The voice over the loudspeaker said something else that she missed, then switched to repeat the message in Rikelean, which she didn't speak. Grace watched the crowd and wondered if her mysterious passenger was among them, or if today would just be another waste of time.

Either way, she reminded herself, she got paid.