choseparagon·:
she wonders how many empires have come before aria, how many have clawed and killed their way to control this little corner of the galaxy. she suspects the blood it’s cost aria would disgust her, were she to know the sum of it, but a quieter, smaller part of her understands that power never comes cheap. “i’m afraid i didn’t and, guess so we’re clear, cerberus may have been kind enough to fund stitching me back together, but that’s as far as i go in being their little project. my ship, my orders,” shepard states coolly, resisting the urge to blink at the pulse of the music roaring in her ears as her arms fold lightly over her chest.
“you’re a busy woman, so i won’t keep you waiting,” she sits across from the asari, fingers drumming on her though, “i need a favor, aria, and before you get excited, it’s nothing interesting or exciting. sorry.”
" —— you need a favor, ” there’s no denying the faint curl of amusement there, nor the way her head cants to the side; eyes flickering across the woman with a calm, cool interest. but it flickers away just as smoothly, as one leg crosses over the other.
it’s not the first time someone asked for a favor, and it’s certainly not the first time shepard asked; it’s almost expected, really. not all the information in the world is kept in data files. some things you either know, or you don’t. it’s as simple as that. “ of course, shepard. ” aria hums silkily ( with an unspoken you owe me, beneath ), as her gaze rests upon her domain —— until it slinks back, and fixes upon the commander. the price of the exchange will correlate directly with the weight of what shepard asks; if not more. “ what exactly do you need from me? ”
