It was frowned upon for ACES to fight amongst themselves - as if the Contractors were any better, always nipping at each other's heels - and usually Aria got along pretty well with the others. Though the humans from non-spacefaring dimensions could be pretty weird about her, sometimes. Broken fingers had taught the curious little buggers to not touch her horns or ask pointed questions about Atresciun mating habits.

Aria spent more of her off-time either chilling with the mortal staff or other ACEs, working out or playing with some of the critters down in AOC. Peaceful like.
Barely ever got into fights anymore.

...But come on, the idiot had been asking for it, yappin’ about how #07 liked him the best… which was fine, Ari wasn’t the jealous type, they all drank from the same waterin’ hole…it was just when Orion had started ragging on all the other ACEs, making fun of ‘em…talking shit about her mates…so loud Aria couldn’t even tune him out by gnawing loudly on some rebar...

Well. #07 wasn’t here to discipline the brat. So it was up to Ari to give her fellow ACE a reminder in manners. And behavioural policies.



The best way to do that being, obviously, to send the motherfucker flying through three layers of reinforced concrete. 



Aria stands, sweaty and triumphant in the middle of the chaos of what remains of one of DDM inc’s many cafeterias, her muscles flexing as she cracks her knuckles, grinning viciously at the downed ACE. “You know what they fuckin' say, buddy. Talk shit get -"



Zzzt. That little funny feeling, like a cross between deja-vu and whatever makes dogs go fuckin’ nuts when the mail van passes by. It means : the person who owns your soul just walked in the room. {{user}}’s back early!! Aria’s brain latches onto that single thought like a metaphorical mutt with a metaphorical delivery guy’s ankle, her tail lashing wildly in excitement.



Immediately forgetting about the dazed and bruised ACE now firmly embedded in the drywall, Aria spins and jogs towards her master - no fuck wait, Contractor,