by dinoman666 » Wed Apr 11, 2012 7:57 pm
Aria's personal "VIP booth" overlooking the Afterlife club's main floor was relatively sparse, with a pair of plush leather couches curving long the edge of the booth, just under the window that allowed Aria herself to watch the patrons below. Access was granted via a pair of staircases, one on each side of the booth and guarded by a pair of Aria's goons: a Turian named Grizz, and a Batarian named Anto--the Asari's right-hand man. The robotic figure was quickly sheparded up the stairs and into the booth by Anto, where he stood, surrounded by several more guards who were scanning his metal body. In the meantime, Aria, seated comfortably on her couch, looked him up and down curiously. He was tall, bigger than the average Trandoshan he had claimed to be at the docking station. Of course, he was either lying, and was really just a droid, or he was telling the truth, in which case he was some sort of cyborg monstrosity. Neither option sounded particularly nice.
"Let him pass," Aria said, her voice loud and commanding. "He's smart. Means he won't try anything. Have seat, won't you?" The figure simply stared at Aria, who finally got a good look at him. Definitely a cyborg: the eyes were yellow, reptilian, and very much organic. His dark gray cloak didn't conceal his stomach area, which appeared to be made of some sort of metal cage around his organs. A weak point? Perhaps. For now, though, it was best just to talk, and figure out what this cyborg wanted. Aria shrugged. "Alright, fi you don't want to sit down, at least tell me who you are and what you want. I'm a busy woman, you know."
The cyborg, lacking a mouth, spoke through a grille in its facemask-like head, its voice grating and vicious. "My name is General Grievous, but perhaps you would know me better as Hossk, Ms. T'Loak." Aria smirked. "Hossk? Really? Hossk's dead, my robotic friend. He's been dead a long time." Grievous folded his arms behind his back, under his cloak. "And I suppose you believe every rumor you hear, T'Loak?" Aria's guards didn't seem to take kindly to this insult, and unholstered their various pistol models, pointing them at Grievous's head. The cyborg didn't flinch, until one particularly bold Turian pressed the gun's barrel against his metal temple.
Moving as an indistinct blue, Grievous twisted, grabbed the unfortunate turian's wrist, and wrenched him into the air, tossing him like a ragdoll, over Aria's head, through the open window behind her and crashing down onto the dance floor. Patrons scattered as hit the floor, skidded a couple feet, then lay still, injured and unconscious, but not quite dead. Before the other guards could react, Aria stood up, the distinct blueish-purple glow of a biotic field appearing around her. "Enough!" she shouted, and the guards quickly backed down, as did Grievous, who turned to look back at the Asari. The field diminished, and Aria approached Grievous, staring straight into his eyes, despite being a foot shorter than him. Then, she smiled. "I like you." Turning back to her couch and sitting back down, she continued. "You might be Hossk, you might not, but it doesn't really matter. You're obviously a fighter, and you obviously want something. I respect that. Now then, what DO you want?"
Arrak started when he heard the screaming Turian hit the ground, turning around in his seat to look. The dancers were panicked, but Grizz and another Batarian helped settle everyone down, before carting the unconscious merc away to be treated. Arrak sighed, turning back to his drink. Looks like some people just can't understand "don't f**k with me" when they see it...
"Heroes have morals. Villains have work ethic."
-Megatron