#alphaofomega

[morganaseren]

Little Space Cub

@alpha-of-omega

Continued from here:

Aria comes awake moving fast at the sound of the cry, pale blue eyes glinting in the glow of biotics crackling along her arms. Then she relaxes as she registers the silent dimness around her, the warmth of Morgana lying at her side, the soft tug at the blanket across her legs.

“Rhiannon,” she says, her breathing slowing as she leans down to pick up her daughter and set her on the bed. “What is it?”

The sniffling sets in as she lifted off the floor and away from the demons of darkness she believes are following her. In her mother’s presence, Rhiannon is comforted immediately, but she wastes little time by burrowing herself further into Aria’s side, peering up at her with eyes that shimmer with unshed tears.

“I had a scary dream!” she whimpers. “A giant monster was in my room, so Bubba and me ran away!”

Small hands present “Bubba” to Aria, almost shoving it into her face with her urgency.

He was a stuffed toy varren, roughly half as big as Rhiannon with the animal’s trademark gaping maw and over-sized eyes. Bubba had been with the little girl for almost as long as she had been alive--a gift from one of the guards. He was her constant companion. Wherever she trekked off for one of her adventures of fantasy and make-believe, Bubba was there, dragged along the floor by a tail or paw as Rhiannon toddled off through the penthouse.

As such, Bubba had obviously seen better days appearance-wise. Once upon a time, he might have been a solid purple in color, but he bore the mark of several colored patches where her father had tried to mend him. After one incident where Rhiannon had accidentally caught Bubba through a door, Morgana had looked at the stuffed toy gravely and confessed that perhaps it was time to replace him.

That had earned the human woman the utmost look of horror before wailing erupted throughout the entire penthouse, completely startling and bewildering her father, who began trying to console her immediately. It was to no avail, and heartbroken Rhiannon sobbed for nearly the entire hour it took for her mother to arrive home, greeted to a most humorous sight of her lover desperately rocking their crying child, her eyes--normally so cool and calm--practically screaming, “Help!”

“I think it’s still in there,” Rhiannon whispers, referring to the monster that haunted her dreams. She turns hopeful eyes to her mother again. “Can I sleep with you and Daddy?”

[liselletloak]

@alpha-of-omega - continued from here

[ She looks to the side in a way that suggests her next words are a lie ] No . . . I was just wondering, that’s all.

[theawokenqueen]

alpha-of-omega

Aria’s guards were a bit startled at the sight of the woman who had approached the stairs. She looked like some sort of mix between a human and an asari; she had blue skin, but she also had long, black hair that was tied back in a braid. A stripe of silver that didn’t appear to be from age ran from near her bangs, and down through the braid. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, feet shoulder width apart in a very military-esque stance.

“I wish to speak with your queen,” she said when the guards did nothing. One blinked, and then asked why, obviously quite suspicious as to why this odd being wanted to speak to Aria. The woman’s golden eyes turned to the batarian guard, and they glowed ominously in the low light. “My Queen wishes to speak with her, and I am to clear it for her.”

[tavianalvia]

How to care for Alvia -- teach him to get past his nerves and defend himself. [gruffly]

............I can defend myself.

Mostly.

The gun is scary okay?

[targetalpha]

[ alpha-of-omega​ ]

     Nyreen knows Aria better than most; she knows      every nuance of every expression, knows with      absolute certainty the intention behind every      glance, every glare. And right now, she can tell      by the paltry wrinkle that mars Aria’s brow—      scarcely noticeable, even to the trained eye—      that the asari is not at ease.

“Something’s on your mind, Aria."

[morganaseren]

When Everything’s Made to be Broken

The observation lounge was empty by the time Morgana arrived to spend her off-duty hours there. From the portable stove and bag of ingredients in her hands, it also seemed to be the place where she would be eating dinner. She wanted a better view than what the Omega skyline could offer from her apartment, and the endless sea of stars beyond the impressive floor-to-ceiling windows simply couldn’t be beaten.

As Morgana began setting everything up, she noted how almost... disconcerting... the space was. Though there was nothing she could see within Omega’s immediate boundaries, she knew all too well the war being waged elsewhere in the galaxy, and curiously, she wondered how Shepard had fared in getting the other races involved.

A small unconscious huff of derision escaped Morgana then.

Petra Shepard wasn’t a woman known for her interpersonal skills. It wasn’t necessarily a mark against her prowess to accomplish whatever she chose; Morgana often found solitude to be a constant companion after all. There was no doubt the soldier was impressive, one of the best the Alliance had ever produced perhaps.

...but as a leader--one somehow tasked with the considerable burden of uniting and leading the Council races against the Reapers--Shepard didn’t have the gift of dealing with others. She lacked the charisma needed to inspire loyalty and instill hope; both were desperately needed if she had any plans of convincing anyone to follow her into hell itself.

As such, though Morgana had spent time in the soldier’s company in order to combat the Collector menace, and had even been saved by her, the empath had never truly warmed to her. She left the Normandy as soon as she was able, and when they were reunited again over half a year later when Shepard helped Aria liberate Omega from Cerberus, she had declined joining the Spectre in her latest bid to save the galaxy.

Morgana had no intention of leaving Aria’s side again.

She hadn’t heard of Shepard again after that. Communication from beyond the station had been scarce as the months wore on, a testament to the Reapers’ abilities to devastate anything that stood in their path. The wheels of fate were ever turning, however; whether it was for the better couldn’t readily be said.

It was enough for Omega’s usually hardened citizens to grow nervous. While patrons still flocked to Afterlife, desperate for any illusion of normality, some had taken to causing fights at the drop of a hat. Nothing that Aria’s extensive guard corps couldn’t handle, of course, but Morgana did wonder how long this “peace” would last.

The elevator doors opened behind her, and given there was usually only one individual who ever joined her in the lounge during her private off-duty hours, Morgana found herself smiling without much prompting.

“I wondered if you had intended on joining me tonight.”

[liselletloak]

alpha-of-omega replied to your post:Rumor is your father was a hanar.

No…although that was a very interesting set of encounters. [distant look] (( :P ))

Mom.

[arynarani]

Repent || Aryna & Aria

She honestly never thought she would see the station again, and yet, here she was standing just outside one of the smaller docks of Omega. It was a surprise and a relief that she had managed to make it past the docks alive; she had always been so sure Aria would've wanted her killed on the moment she set foot back on the station.

Maybe she didn't even know she was here? Doubtful, but wishful thinking. Aria knew everything that happened on this station, and Aryna's reappearance would definitely spark interest. And possible malice.

The docks were one thing, though, and stepping into Afterlife had her grabbed almost immediately by other guards; guards she had remembered working with, and even had rank over. But that was all gone now, and if anything, she was below them in status. In their eyes, she was a traitor.

She went willingly, of course, but they still practically dragged her to the foot of Aria's balcony. Her throne, court, whatever you wanted to call it. Aryna was fairly sure this would be it, but she intended to apologize, repent even, if she wanted a stronger word. She was completely silent as one of Aria's guards--Garka, she was fairly sure, but not with this light--took one look at her, and then moved up the stairs to Aria.

"We've got Rani here. They say they caught her coming into Afterlife," he said, making the asari matron scoff. Caught. She wasn't caught, she had let them take her. There was a big difference there, but she didn't dare correct him.

[cmdrglowstick-archive]

alpha-of-omega replied to your post:"My New Year’s resolution is at the bottom of this...

A man after my own heart. [dryly]

I think that's the closest thing to a compliment that I've ever gotten from you.

[tavianalvia]

12 -- what do you want to be when you grow up?

Well... I wanted to be a commander!  Like my mom!  But I dunno no more, I mean... Dani’s in now and she’s doing great and Kianne’s about to go in and she’s probably gonna do good and...

I dunno.  I feel like I’m gonna fuck up.  But I don’t got much choice I gotta go to boot.

I gotta.

[theroguesniper]

alpha-of-omega replied to your post:alpha-of-omega replied to your post:[[And in a...

[[ <3 Hope you find it useful! :) ]]

[[Oh, I definitely will! I've just been too lazy to load up all of my threads while I could avoid it with the Activity page ahahahaha.

You're the best, man =D]]

[kai-m-shepard]

alpha-of-omega:

((What the hell. :P Kiss meme Omega style ))

Aria’s lips crashed against Kai’s with all the heat adrenaline could provide, the residual energy of Petrovsky’s death exploding outward in the moment of contact. Her biotics crackled as her fingers closed around the commander’s upper arms, holding her close for a long moment as their lips worked together, warm and forceful and deliberate.

Then she broke the contact, stepped back, drew a sharp breath and steadied her own bearing with folded arms, deliberately laconic. “Thank you, Shepard. This has all been…deeply satisfying.” Her eyes glinted with amusement as she watched for a reaction.

One moment, she was looking over the interior of Afterlife, puzzling over what may come next for the station in the wake of Nyreen's loss and Aria's return to power. The next, firm hands clasped around her arms and power crackled through the air as a pair of lips found her own.

Her startled sound was lost in the contact, the asari's warm, deliberate lips insistent on her own. Before she could react, the Queen released her, eyes steady and alight as they studied her. Shepard felt oddly like a cornered mouse. At least she wasn't a half-bad kisser. 

The brunette cleared her throat and adjusted her visor, a pink tinge coloring her ears. "I, ah, mm." She shook her head once. "Right. Happy to help." 

[iseultshepard]

[[Best roomie and RPer and generally cool person. *snugsqueeze* ]]

Anonymously (or not) tell me your opinion of me. I can’t respond, just publish.

[morganaseren]

You Leave Me Here Burning

alpha-of-omega

It was quiet as the elevator doors opened onto Omega’s observation deck--unsurprising given how very few knew of it. In fact, Morgana was only aware of the location courtesy of Aria, whom had quietly informed her one evening--seemingly ages ago--of the deck situated at the very top of the station, one that offered the grandest view over the great void of space.

Prior to her long recovery, the human woman often found herself there a few times over the course of a long work week, seeking the solitude it offered her. Nowadays, it seemed almost a rare occasion; she tired more easily. Though months had passed since her near fatal encounter with the raiders foolish enough to tamper with Aria’s shipments, they had left their mark on Morgana. Granted, used to drawing little attention to herself as part of her everyday cover, none would have suspected she still suffered from her injuries, but the tells were there, obvious to those whom knew her well, but such individuals were of a very select few.

Grace came to the empath as easily as breathing, but to the trained eye, her gait was far stiffer, seemingly favoring her left leg more whenever she walked. There was a tightness around the pale, Kohl-rimmed gaze that hadn’t been there prior to the raider incident, speaking of quiet exhaustion and perhaps even minor pain. It was understandable given how an infection during her post-rescue had made an absolute mess of her lungs, taking from Morgana more energy than she could some days more often than not. Anyone within close proximity to her--an intimacy she did not allow for just anyone--would have been able to hear her rasped breathing along with the roughened undertones of illness in a voice otherwise eloquent.

It was a combination of those doctors that led her doctors into restricting her workload. While she recovered, they had recommended to Aria that she was best working away from the constant activity that normally suffused Afterlife, and so she was relegated to spending a few short hours each day helping Aria’s teams sort through intel.

It wasn’t exciting by any stretch of the imagination, but it was the only alternative she had other than spending the rest of the day confined to the walls of her room.

...And it left her away from Aria well enough.

The British woman’s meeting with Shepard some months prior had helped her slowly come to terms with her relationship with Omega’s queen. Nothing good could come of it now--not when Aria had made vividly clear her stance--and rather than burden the other woman with her feelings, Morgana resolved to simply bury them.

Love had no place on Omega. 

Her continual work behind the scenes of Afterlife and her distance from Aria made it easier to slip into the role of simple professionalism. She had little interaction with the older woman unless it was to give a daily report. Otherwise, Morgana offered nothing.

Do not bother Aria. Do not ask her of anything. Do the job she chose you for, had become her mantra over the last few weeks. If she hoped to keep any measure of her sanity rather than succumb to longing, it had to be done, and so Morgana hid herself behind the cool walls of apathy, not unlike those beginning months when she had first come under Aria’s employ.

If Aria desired only that strict line between employer and employee, then Morgana would deny her nothing, for though she loved her, she knew that the other woman was under no obligation to return her feeling nor entertain them.

But as Morgana moved to the closest window of the observation deck--the reinforced pane extending from floor to ceiling--and gingerly sat down upon the cool metal ground, she could not help but think upon her conversation with Shepard. Morgana had imparted how death was more a constant companion than any acquaintance of happiness in her life. At the very core of her, she desired more, but she didn’t know if she could live without some measure of darkness in her life. She had known it for so long after all, but she supposed she owed it to herself and--to an extent--Shepard to find out. However, if she sought to find the answer, that begged another question that had haunted her thoughts more often than not these days:

Is there still a place for me here then?

[liselletloak]

alpha-of-omega - continued from [x]

Liselle’s head is cocked as she listens. This is probably the most she’s heard about her father, even after having weaselled some meagre information out of Aryna decades ago. But hearing it from her trainer--who had an outsider’s view of everything--is much different than hearing it from her mother.

“But I want to know about her,” she says, sounding almost upset when Aria stops, cutting herself off. Liselle knows her father was never around, but the why’s never been explained. “Until she . . . what? What happened?” She knows this is probably painful for Aria, but her mother’s drunk; she probably won’t remember this much. “Did she die? Leave?”

[arynarani]

alpha-of-omega:

We lose mercs on this station all the time, Rani. I’m not choked up about it, if that’s what you mean. But a few of those deaths might tip the balance of power. And that is the worrisome part.

I see . . . And is there no way to tip it back? There are always better people suited for whatever roles have been left empty. Besides, I know you, Aria; I've been at your side almost since you began your rule, and the scale's always been tipping back and forth, but you've managed to keep in in your favour.