"So both of our persons of interest are very, very fucked." Aria nodded to the female Shepard, a small smirk gracing her Asari features. Magenta sighed and kneaded her forehead with the palm of her hand, her expression one of a person already over life in general. Perhaps leaving Jacob and Miranda at the bar was a poor decision. The cheerleader would have made a good distraction if I kneecapped her.
"Still. They're not dead. Yet," Markus said from his seat to Magenta's left, his hands folded together and shielding his jaw from view. Aria sighed, before somehow managing to look down at the Shepards at the same time without shifting from her lounging position.
"If I might make a suggestion. Archangel is in the bigger pile of shit at the moment. And him disappearing, one way or another, stops that particular war and means I can focus on the three other gang wars that have broken out this month," the Asari said, her tone making it abundantly clear the Shepards time with her was over. Nodding, Magenta got to her feet, hiding the spike of pain that shot up her left leg as she put weight on it. Fucking implants…
"Thanks for the hint. Lets go rescue us an Archangel," she said as Markus got to his feet with a spring in his step. Aria waved her off, her focus already elsewhere.
"Just as long as you get the job done, Shepard. But you're good at that, aren't you?" And as the twins turned away, Aria spoke one last time. "Oh, and Markus. You still owe me." Groaning, Markus nodded and waved, before taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to escape Aria's gaze.
"What did you do?" Magenta asked, as the twins waited to be admitted to the "Murder Archangel" sign up area. Markus sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I lived here for a few months before Cerberus picked me up. Ran some jobs, killed some people. Normal merc shit. Long story short, my last job before Miranda dragged me outta here was for Aria. I fucked up, people died, expensive shit exploded. I feel like Mr. L. Lusive Mann paid her a shitload of credits for her to not immediately explode my head upon my return." Markus then spared a glance to the raised platform from where the Queen of Omega ruled, and shuddered. "I believe she still wants to kill me."
"Yeah, well, if she did, I would fucking end her." The air around the twins chilled as Magenta spoke, and she fixed her gaze at the poor henchman within airshot. The Batarian tightened his grip on his shotgun.
Magenta gave him the glare she normally reserved for Reapers, Saren and Udina.
The Batarian visibly shrank, before promptly finding himself an Eclipse thug to beat down for starting imaginary trouble. Smiling to herself, Magenta returned her gaze to her twin, and found herself staring at a very confused, and very afraid, man.
"What?" Markus swallowed, before shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of all the nope running through his mind.
"Nothing. Just, forgot how utterly terrifying you are." Magenta gave a pleased hum in response, before the doors slid out and the shout of "Next" echoed out over the thumping music and violence cocktail of drugs and criminals.
As the pair moved forward, Markus suddenly stopped and stuck his hand out. A moment later, a rather agitated youth collided with said hand. Oh lord, he's barely 18.
"Hey man, what the hell?" the youth complained. Ignoring him, Markus spun him around and wrenched an M-3 from the boy's waistband.
"No shields. No armor." A thump and a tug and a red-hot thermal chip popped out of the pistol fast enough to set off kinetic barriers. "And a pistol that'll explode in your hands the second you pull the trigger." Markus then spun the boy again and shoved him against the wall, before pinning him there with the weight of his glare.
"There are easier ways of committing suicide. Go home, boy. Before a Vorcha decides they want to find out what human tastes like." The boy stammered for a few seconds, before pushing away from the wall and sprinting out of the club fast enough to leave a dust cloud. A few moments passed in silence, before Markus sighed, the anger leaving his frame replaced with the weariness of an old soldier.
"Now that you're done screwing us out of new blood, are you here to sign up or not?" The Batarian at the desk said in that uniquely Batarian tone that somehow merged arrogance, tiredness and condescension. Magenta snorted and grinned.
"What if I told you we're both signing up, and we've got two very well trained friends in tow?" she said, her voice oozing confidence and power. The recruiter perked up, and gave the Batarian approximation of a smirk.
"Then you're my new best friend."
A/N: I do these in bold, don't I? Anyway, zomgtwochaptersintwodays. Don't get used to it, at this point I'm just playing catchup to my ME2 save. Eventually I have to play that game again.
Also, I forgot a disclaimer anywhere in this fic, so here. Bioware and EA own everything here that isn't a bad joke.