Who: Aria & Garrus What: Touring the Omega queen's latest business venture and discussing her inevitable asari change When: Recently Where: Afterlife Rating/Warnings: Some language but overall tame Status: Complete!
For once, Aria wasn’t actually wearing the outfit she wore in the dreams. As much skin as she showed in it, without the jacket, Aria was opting for something far cooler right now. Her multi-colored hair, which was currently mostly blue with streaks of purple, was pulled into an intricate french braid to keep it off her neck. She wore a tank top and pants that both had stylish rips in them, providing more ability to keep her cool enough in the California heat. There was a portion of a tattoo visible on her back between her shoulderblades. It was difficult to tell what exactly it was, but it was a recent tattoo. To those who may recognize such things, it was actually the symbol that was plastered all over Omega, and the one that was on the back of Aria’s jacket. She wasn’t certain how the tattoo would carry over if she turned into an asari. Their skin texture was different from a human’s, but she had still wanted the tattoo.
Not for the first time, Aria was actually looking forward to turning into an asari. At least they didn’t have a mountain of hair to deal with when it got hot. Sure, Aria could just shave her head and be done with it, but she liked her hair. She’d rather keep it how it was until she changed.
Aria was down by the bar, having a discussion with one of her bartenders. Some drink suggestions had been made by one of her bartenders, and she wanted them all to come in early in the next couple days to see if the drinks were feasible. She still needed to go talk to the bartender in the strip club part of the building, but before she could get that far, she spotted a familiar face. Not quite the turian she’d come to expect, but nonetheless, she went over to greet him.
“Gracing Afterlife with your presence, are you?” She posed to him. At least she was in a relatively better mood. She was still upset over events of her dreams, but she wasn’t in danger of unleashing a biotic detonation at any moment.
It wasn’t exactly accurate to say Omega’s Queen and Archangel were friends, back on that blasted rock infested with scum. After Shepard’s death (which somehow proved to be a temporary affliction thanks to Miranda’s genius and Cerberus’ endless wealth), he’d been aimless and got himself on there trying to do some good - which often times did include interfering with those essential everyday operations with local gangs. Still, he was presumed dead there, and he was never sure if Aria T’loak ever found out he’d been one of the lucky ones recruited to go on that fabled suicide mission.
But here, he’d say they were on the right path. Garrus was pleased to see someone else from their dreams appear. Even if she hadn’t been a regular on the Normandy, he’d never forget the involvement and volunteering of forces she had offered during the Reaper War. Although anyone who didn’t help really only hurt themselves.
He was wearing the human look thanks to his magically imbued watch, and wearing a stylish set of dress pants and a blazer, blue eyes bright and raven hair styled. Touching him even felt like touching an actual person, but it wasn’t real. None of it was.
“Had to see the glory for myself,” Vakarian smirked, hands in his pockets. “I’m impressed. Bringing a little bit of Omega to Orange County?”
If only they had vorcha and krogan to put in the corners, it’d be perfect.
Friends was certainly not something to described that relationship. While Aria hadn’t necessarily found out that Garrus was Archangel, she had noted the fact that Archangel had died and then she’d seen Garrus with Shepard at one point after it. But she didn’t poke the matter, it was in the past, and in the dreams, and she knew some secrets should remain secrets. Archangel had never messed with her directly, so she didn’t bother with him.
Aria was a little less notorious in this life, though the things she was notorious for here weren’t exactly broadcast either. She’d been an enforcer type, hired to rough people up that owed money and needed to pay up. She didn’t dip into that much anymore, she had her hands full keeping her bouncers and the like in order while running her clubs.
“Perhaps a bit, though it’s far cleaner than Omega ever was.” Aria still missed it. Omega was her home, her everything. She was Omega. Part of her longed for the station to arrive here, but it might not be that practical to have such a huge station around. “What are your first impressions?”
Much cleaner. Garrus would toast to that if there was a drink he could ingest - though sometimes he had a sip of something here and there, hoping to maybe gradually create a tolerance overtime. He’d give a turian nut for a pint of Guinness. Alien spirits tended to pack a stronger punch, but.
Sometimes it was just those simple and very human things he missed, despite his currently very human appearance.
“No guns,” he observed, leaning against the bartop with an elbow propped on it. “Not that I can see so far. I guess you’re running it as a more of a legitimate business, less of a headquarters for business?”
He certainly had good eyes, Aria would give Garrus that. “Precisely. I have my share of a checkered past here, but I prefer to not involve guns.” She still had some of those in her employ carry a handgun if things got tense. But that was typically only as far as she would go on that front.
“I prefer to not draw attention to myself, and security people carrying shotguns and assault rifles would attract more attention than I wish to have.” Though considering how Orange County could get, she should perhaps keep a stash of such guns in her office, under lock and key of course.
Actually, she should also keep a gun or two in her office for herself. The submachine gun and shotgun she used in the dreams were under lock and key in her condo. Luckily no matter where she went, she wasn’t unarmed. She had her biotics now, and they were getting stronger by the day.
“If you’re feeling out of place, I could add some guns. Fuck knows with the way Orange County can be, I should keep my staff armed.” One never knew what would come next. Anything could burst through the door without warning, after all.
If the staff knew how to use the arms, more power to them - Garrus was also a strong advocate of them in a place like this where self-defense was, often times, crucial. He lacked that common magical prowess that came with many of the dreamers here, didn’t have a lick of biotic talent in him, so practical combat with the use of guns and his hands were his saving graces.
He was damn good at it, too.
“I’d never say no to extra security measures,” he agreed, rubbing that angular jaw of his - sometimes he could feel what really existed beneath the facade. That hardened exoskeleton, those plates that replaced skin. “I took parts from the Citadel and turned my home into a fortress. It withstood the Reapers and anything else destructive before that. Worth all the work. I can turn your coffee machine into an explosive if you want.”
Really, he could. Same with several other appliances. His passwords to deactivate the ones in his house were all ‘I HEART GARRUS’ because he was internally twelve sometimes.
“Very clever, and one cannot be too careful in this place.” Things could turn as quickly as the weather, and that only played into Aria’s naturally alert, possibly even slightly paranoid, nature. She needed to keep an eye on everything, and she wasn’t about to lose Afterlife if she could help it.
“Shepard was generous and gave me some tech the two of you had gotten off of the Citadel. Perhaps I shall put it to good use.” Most likely on her penthouse. She didn’t need 22nd Century tech at Afterlife. People might ask questions if they looked too closely. But that’s where the arsenal in her office would come into play.
“It would seem that you’ve weathered quite a few storms in this place.” Garrus clearly had lived here for some time. Same with Shepard. Aria was the newcomer, but she was rather grateful that she wasn’t the only one to dream of the Milky Way in the 22nd Century.
“I’d be happy to help install some security measures if you need it,” he offered, because he was good with technology - good with the maintenance of guns, the calibrations (no secret that he was famous for those, even on the internet). Tali had taught him a couple tricks too. “Doubt anyone will want to come ransack and take over the facility the way Cerberus did, but you can never be too careful. That’s coming from experiencing all those storms as you put it.”
He had been here for far, far too long - but he was lucky to have showed up around the same time Shepard did, and the two had been by each other’s side since. “I’m interested to see how you handle the ones that come in the future. I’ve heard stories about your biotics.”
“That is an offer I just might take.” Aria may have many talents and skills, and she could probably install security measures well enough, but she wasn’t a tech expert. She wasn’t an engineer. There’d be a good chance she could wire something wrong and render the system ineffective or something. No, she needed an expert, someone who could do it right.
“Those fuckers will get what’s coming to them.” The assholes had begun showing up on Omega in her recent dreams. It unsettled her, and she hated them. And not just because she wasn’t human. They’d murdered her daughter, and she would enjoy tearing Cerberus to shreds at the first chance she got.
A bit of a smirk crossed her face. “Luckily for you, my biotics have manifested themselves and are getting stronger as time passes. Perhaps you shall get a demonstration one of these days.”
A shame Garrus never got to fully witness them in the dreams. Oh, he’d heard stories. Shepard referenced them after she assisted the asari on taking back Omega - he had no doubt they weren’t exaggerated tales, either.
“Have you and Shepard engaged in a drunken biotic brawl yet?” If they did then maybe the story was muddled with the rest of Shepard’s drunken biotic brawls; she had a thing for inciting violence, didn’t she? “I’d reserve first seats to that - but otherwise, how close do you think you are to embracing eternity?”
Stories about Aria in any respect were rarely exaggerated. And even the ones that were weren’t far from the truth. Aria earned her reputation, and it was one she embraced in all aspects. She didn’t shy away from any of it.
“Not yet. I believe she is still recovering from her injuries, so no biotic brawls until she is better.” Shepard looked better, which was good, but Aria knew better than to throw her biotics at the commander until Shepard was fully recovered. “I do not know. I have been feeling wrong lately. This skin is wrong. Was that how you felt before you turned into a bird?” Aria didn’t precisely subscribe to the fact that turians were birds, but she was running with it. If anything, she thought female turians were more like cats. The males, well, they could be birds.
Into a bird. Garrus chuckled. That’s one way to put it. He’d also been called ‘pineapple head,’ and humans often thought that turians were some kind of missing link when it came to dinosaurs. What a way to make him feel like a relic.
“That sounds about right,” he admitted, scratching the side of his head in thought. “Like I’ve said before, mine was slow - like a sci-fi horror freak show. Had a growth spurt that made my bones ache something terrible. Lost my hair, my gums hurt as my teeth changed, I had to be weaned off human food and onto a dextro-amino diet and when I woke it was like I was a snake shedding skin. In a literal sense.”
Yes, he’d woken up to blood both blue and red, skin all around the bed. It was something they expected yet underestimated the gruesomeness of it, but in the end he felt free - like he always should have been.
Not for the first time, Aria was relieved that turning into an asari wasn’t going to be as horrible an experience as turning into a turian. Or, goddess forbid, a quarian. She really would hate having to live in a suit for the rest of her life. An asari’s bone structure was basically the same as a human’s. But the head tentacles or fringe or whatever one wanted to call them, those would probably hurt when they formed.
“I suppose I should be glad that I won’t experience a growth spurt or my legs gaining joints.” Still, she knew her internal organs would probably undergo the most change. After all, asari could live for a thousand years, that had to mean drastic physiological changes.
“Not to be macabre, but how bad was the pain when your skull changed and the head fringe grew?” Aria was trying to prepare herself for the pain that would come with the alien transformation. She didn’t know if it would be drawn out like Garrus’, or if she’d go to sleep human and wake up asari. Either way, she doubted it would be a pretty process. Though probably far less outwardly grotesque than what Garrus had experienced.
And at least she could still eat human food when all was said and done.
“It wasn’t that the pain was excruciating,” Garrus answered, narrowing his eyes as he thought back - although it’s not like it was an experience he’d ever forget anytime soon. Or ever. “It wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, but it was constant, and sometimes the body gets so immune to painkillers later on that it did the equivalent of jackshit. It had me more uncomfortable than annoyed. Not feeling like you’re in the right skin when you’re stuck somewhere in between - it has a way of messing with you a bit.”
It was impatience too. Obviously he had missed out on the luxurious overnight transitions that were often common around here, but their world wasn’t fueled by magic. It was advanced science and realizing that the evolutionary process was different throughout their galaxy, and let’s just say he evolved. “You want to be comfortably numb while you go through the motions? Drink whiskey.”
Aria wasn’t certain if that was better or worse than what she anticipated. Turning into a turian was different than turning into an asari, but neither process was going to be full of sunshine and rainbows. Aria anticipated the worst of her changes would be internal, which would probably mess with her for a while. Providing that the process was drawn out and not done in one fell swoop overnight.
“I will certainly keep a good stock of alcohol on hand for it when it happens.” Aria was wondering if the process was already starting. However, it was impossible to tell if she was feeling wrong just because she dreamt of being an alien, or if because the process of change had already begun. “I do not expect the process to be pretty, and I am anticipating it to be drawn out. Best to expect that than to simply hope it is done in one night, and then be unpleasantly wrong.” Aria wasn’t one who tended to make gambles on that sort of thing. Gambles in business? Definitely. But she didn’t gamble in these sorts of situations. Best to prepare for the worst instead of expect the best.
“Another nugget of advice? Get a doctor from the network,” he added. “I did to monitor the changes and for those ‘in case’ purposes. The one I went to was Simmons - works for the government, aliens are one of of her specialties. And hell, if you ever want to prepare for kids...”
Garrus was hinting that the time to do something about it was now. His human swimmers had been frozen for the future and let’s just say they were still, ah, lively. “Just a thought. No judgment.”
“As long as she’s not an asari matriarch to fuss at me, I shall be fine.” Though Aria was one to talk. No one knew exactly how old she was (and she liked to keep it that way), but she was old. She was probably the antithesis of what people thought an asari matriarch should be. “Though I shall contact her. Probably best to have a doctor monitor things.”
The mention of children, however, was pushing one of her hot buttons from the dreams. Not that Garrus would know that, but she clenched a fist and tried to keep herself as under control as possible. “We shall see.” Aria didn’t think the world would survive if she had a kid in this life, and that kid died somewhere along the way. Especially the way her daughter had died in her dreams.
Garrus didn’t know what reaction to expect - if she’d been against the idea he imagined her scoffing at him with a dismissive wave of her hand, but Aria’s answer was ambiguous. But he wouldn’t press. It wasn’t his business, and if the personification of Omega didn’t want to continue down that path of a conversation then that was fine.
“Well, since I’m here,” he cleared his throat. “Give me the grand tour. We can see what would be the best route of security measures to install and what strange bar appliances we can wire into secret weapons of destruction.”
It was best to leave ambiguous. Perhaps one day she would want a kid of her own in this life, maybe not. She certainly understood that having an asari child would not be ideal considering aliens weren’t supposed to exist in this world. Still, Aria would do things her way when she wanted to do them and that was that.
“Of course. Follow me,” she said. Aria took him around the building, ensuring all the exits and entrances were covered in the grand tour. He saw all the important parts relevant to security upgrades. But, of course, she also showed off Afterlife. The dancefloor was packed in the club. There was a decent crowd in the strip club as well. Afterlife was experiencing a good start to its life. Aria wanted to keep it that way.