Blackness does bind me
A white monarch flutters by
And so it begins
I didn't think it would be possible to get cold at all on Omega. I pulled my coat tighter bringing the collar up to keep the heat in, and it seems I'm not the only one to notice.
"Damn its freezing in here, it's never gotten this cold on Omega before." A gruff voice complained.
Rubbing my hands together, I sigh.
"I know," replied a male with a deep flange in his voice, "Brrr, one of the climate control units must be out."
"Fuck, not again it's the…" the gruff voice got quieter as I walked farther past them choosing to focus on my footsteps, theirs and my walking stick. I could barely make out the soft rhythmic tapping of my walking stick as heavy and despondent footsteps plodded around me. It all sounded sad honestly. I continued on and soon heard a heavy throbbing rhythm. I checked my pockets and figured this must be the place called Afterlife. Look for the loud music that drowns despair, the message said.
The loud thumping of the bass reverberated through my chest as I set foot into the club. I began tuning out the bass while tapping my waling stick harder on the floor to get my bearings. I began flexing my left fist, a nervous tick of mine. This, Aria, better have what I need. Brushing the long bangs of hair back with my left hand, I resumed walking again, tapping along away and taking great care not hit someone's foot. Meandering to wear glasses and ice were clinking together, I sat down and set my guitar on the floor, leaning against the counter to my left. I began to steeple my hands as I drank in the atmosphere and listened. I held back a scoff at how ironic the name Afterlife and Omega is. The stations reputation has never escaped me, but it was utterly laughable at how people came here to escape their problems, but in the end you can only do so much to stall the inevitable. A loud thump reached my ears and I turned to the sound.
"Hey…" a loud warbling flange spoke to me, "What the fack was in my way?"
His breath smelt of cheap alcohol and even cheaper words, "That was my guitar…"
He turned to face me while I continued to face the bar counter.
"Phershtly," he slurred, "Whazza a geetar, and…" he belched like a broken air filter, "da fuck, waz it in mah way?" pounding on the plastic composite bar counter.
Tilting my head away from him, "Sorry, I don't speak stupid…"
The turian, I believe, spun drunkenly splashing his drink around, I could faintly make out the drops landing on me and my face. "Shu'callin me shtupid? Ya'hear that boys? Some pissy hooman raschist is calling us toorians schtoopid!"
As he force fed my mouth with stupid with a side of misunderstood contexts, several chairs pushed back quickly. I frowned, the grating of metal on metal sounded like nails on chalkboard. Several heavy footsteps stumbled their way to me. Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I wrinkled my nose as the smells of terrible alcohol mixed with putrid rejection assaulted me. They are so close to me now that I can make out all five of them breathing hard down my neck. They surrounded and pinned me between them and the bar counter. Tapping the bar five times, I counted them from left to right, one through five respectively. I use the word respectively loosely.
I duck my head down and grip my walking stick to my right, tightly. "Please gentlemen, let's not be rash…"
My attempts to dissuade them were all for naught, "Go fack yourshelf, we goona teach a lesson!" The smashing of glass on composite plastic sang through the air and everything went quiet.
"So be it..."
The loud thumping heartbeat of Afterlife stopped and all eyes were on the bar across from the dancers' dais.
Whispers fluttered across the room, "Is that guy crazy?"
"He must be suicidal…"
"Yeah picking a fight with the blood talons…"
Aria turned to peer down at the masses she glanced to her left, "What's going on down there, Anto?"
A tall batarian rushed up the stairs, "The blood talons are starting shit…again."
He sighed. Aria pinched her brow then turned away from the balcony, "Can you go take care of it before it escalates and remove them from the premises…permanently."
Broken glassware tinkled like wind chimes.
"On it…" As Anto turned away from Aria, a warbling scream pierced through the hushed murmurs like a blade in the heart.
"Argh, what the hell was that?" the now sober turian number one replied from the ground while cradling his blood spurting wrist.
The wet squelching went in tandem with his elevated heart beat. Facing the group, I held my walking stick in my right with my left resting on the hand grip. The whine of firearms powering up sang through the air, setting the beat of battle. I could feel their hard, and more importantly sober, gazes upon me. Holding up my walking stick, "You guys sure you wanna do this?"
Last warning.
Number two barks a harsh wobbly laugh, "Ha! Are you blind or something. It's four on one and apparently you broke rule number one in a fight."
Squatting low I ask, "And what's that?"
Good they're still in the same spots.
"Heh, never bring a knife…" As he basks in his arrogance, everything slow down, my ears hum and breathing deep I took a step forward. One step is all it takes. Steel flashed in a crescent arc like the moon and passing through turians two through five.
"…To a gun…fight?" a sharp clink is heard and soft squelching noises cascade in the air with the blood. Standing up I dust my coat and moved towards quivering turian number one and picked my guitar case. I apologized to the barkeep, paid my tab and made my way to the exit.
"Hey you!" a rough, gravelly voice called out.
I stopped, "Yes?"
"Aria wants to see you upstairs."
The music resumes playing, dancers start dancing and drinkers go back to drinking. Walking past the gibbering turian and his recently deceased I began to tap the ground. Slowly climbing up the stairs while counting the steps, the music was quiet as I entered Aria's office. I breathed deep and could smell blood, perfume, metal and alcohol. A female, a weighty and powerful, voice graced my ears.
"That was an, interesting display down there."
I bow towards the sound, "I apologize, Aria for the mess."
The leather couch stretches as she leans back, "So you know who I am?"
I could almost feel her quirking an eyebrow at me, "Naturally, I did my home work and your voice holds true with your namesake." I smile softly at her direction. Aria stood up as she walked towards me, her heels softly clacking like a predator going in for the kill. I can feel her gazing hard at my face and her breathing. The faint trace of mint passed through my sinuses as she walked round me. She came back in front of me and began to laugh, the sound only adding more to he namesake, "Hahaha, this IS interesting…"
Walking away from me, I began to breathe normally as she sat down in the couch. I cleared my throat, "I'm looking for someone and I've been told you're the person to talk to."
Aria laughs again, feeling the predatory gaze upon me once more, "You know, who I am, but who are you?"
While still facing straight ahead, I readjusted the strap of my guitar case, "Mistudaira Zatoichi, at your service."
"Well Mr. Mitsudaira, how can you look for something in the dark?"
Authors Note: I would like to thank Roarkshop for her input and Myetel for inspiring this.
Disclaimer: I do not own, Mass Effect or any of its licensed characters.
