Draconian Laws (Solo x Sabre)

[Sabre]

The scent diffusers in every corner of the room go off every fifteen minutes. Something citrusy, a little sour, permeating from them. They’re suppose to dissipate the sticky smell of anxious alpha and omega, but they aren’t working. Nothing seems to work quite right in this world.

He’s not suppose to be here.

Nothing works, nothing feels right- especially the system, especially when they make changes. A system of laws made to bring them together and ensure the continuation of their kind- why does it feel a little like a death sentence?
He petitioned the committee at least a dozen times, even got a lawyer. There are a few exceptions and opportunities to opt out if you meet a certain criteria, generally consisting of too old to be fertile, infertile, already mated or married, terminally ill, incarcerated, or if you just so happen to be one of those so called ‘essential people’s’ (Read: politicians with enough money and affluence to skirt the system.)

Technically he doesn’t meet any of those criteria. There aren’t even enough like him in the world for the committee to consider adding an exception.

Harley’s never met another male omega. He knows they’ve existed- they just don’t happen very often or last very long. He’s lucky he’s healthy, even when he currently wishes he wasn’t.

The room is cold and sterile feeling with tables set up a way that remind him of visiting his late uncle in prison. There are a few other people in the room spread out amongst the twenty something tables. A doctor, three security guards, a receptionist- plus a couple that met five minutes ago in one corner and a lone female omega chatting up a storm to the doctor in the back.

Harley’s been there a solid hour and half and the room is starting to feel too big and too suffocating all at once. His elbows knock his knees and he curls a little further into himself with each minute, feeling smaller, but there isn’t much shrinking his 6’7 frame can actually do until he’s just laying his head on the cold table. His long hair spills to one side, curled by wind and wave with strands of brown bleached blond by the sun.

A gentle hand on his shoulder nearly startles him out of his skin which in turn startles the owner of said hand.
“Oh! Sorry! Sorry sir! I didn’t mean to sneak up on you it’s just-“ It’s the thin blonde receptionist. She’s young looking and may actually be an intern. He doesn’t want to be angry with her but it’s like he can’t control the bite in his voice. “What?”


The poor girl looks like she might bolt, or cry, or maybe a bit of both. She blinks and stammers and has to take a second to collect herself before she bows her head to him. “I came to tell you that your alpha isn’t late. I gave you the wrong time because I accidentally looked at O1654’s file instead of yours and then I had to call them and-“
He huffs at her. “So I’ve been sitting here for no good reason?”
“No! No, no, I mean, they are still coming and your appointment is still today it’s just like, two hours difference? Your alpha should be here in fifteen minutes actually.”

“Oh.” He deflates and his posture relaxes a little, though he’s now sitting up all the way. The change in his demeanor puts the receptionist, Kelly, according to her name tag, at ease. “It’s fine, miss Kelly, I don’t mind waiting. I’m getting a little parched though, may I have a water?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely. I’ll be right back.”

And she’s gone. It doesn’t take long for her to hurry back and leave a chilled bottle of water beside the stack of paperwork in front of him. Then he’s back in his own head, feeding and fighting his worry.
His alpha will be there any minute.

 

[Solo]

For as long as she can remember, Lucy has resigned herself to the fact that she won't ever be paired. A female Alpha, almost unheard of, to the point that when she presented, her parents had considered it a mistake. The endless rounds of tests had begun then, to try and determine what went wrong, but in the end it had been concluded that she was just a rarity. A rarity to such a point, it seemed, that few had come before her. Her ruts had been unbearable; the suppressants available were designed for male Alphas, since those were what was so prevalent, but thankfully as the years went on, more and more advances in science had been made. They still weren't as potent or as effective as the widely-marketed designer class of Alpha suppressants, but they did the job, stamping down her rut and making sure she wouldn't have to go through it with as much severity as she had when she was younger.​

​

It's just the same to her. In fact, she wouldn't be concerned if she never had another rut in her life. At least, she wouldn't have, until she received a certified letter from the government's Branch of Alpha-Omega Relations informing her that a match had been found.​

​

Lucy isn't naive. She's known that male Omegas exist; they have to, if she exists as an anomaly. It makes logical sense, but that doesn't mean that she's ever let herself believe that one could be found for her. Since people started resisting their designations, the BAOR has been 'encouraging' Alphas and Omegas to pair and mate, using collected DNA samples to calculate compatibility in an antiquated system that Lucy personally would like to see abolished, but her specialty is in civil law, and she knows she won't be able to take on the responsibility of a capital case designed to overthrow the government's rules as a whole. So instead, she defies the system on a personal level, ignoring the fact that she's been deemed an Alpha and vowing to never lower herself to follow society's requirements and take an Omega.​

​

Until she has to. Even as a female, she's never forced to do anything, and she was about to ensure she didn't start now and throw the letter in the trash when a short burst of curiosity kept the letter clutched in a vicegrip. Would it be so bad to see what it was all about? After all, she might never get another chance.​

​

Punctual to a fault, she walks into the office, nose crinkling in disgust at both the wide open setting and the scent diffuser in the air. The smell of artificial citrus overrides whatever she could have sniffed out on her own and turns her stomach, and she's thankful when someone skitters over to her upon entrance. Maybe it's because there aren't many others that seem to be there, or maybe it's because even though she likely can't be scented, she radiates Alpha. Dressed in a smart black skirt-and-blazer combination, a low-cut salmon-colored silk shirt underneath, with black heels clacking on the tile floor, Lucy sets a tight smile at the Beta who approaches her.​

"Hi, can I help you?" the young woman asks, smile bright and matching the peppy voice.​

​

"Yes, I'm Lucy Barthelmes, here for a meeting with an Omega? Case number O1656," she replies, voice curt and professional as always.​

​

Though she doesn't think it's possible, she's proved wrong, and the Beta's smile grows even wider. "Yes, yes, of course! This way!" The chirping direction comes and Lucy is directed towards a table near the edge of the closest wall, where a man is already seated. Scratch that—an absolute mountain of a man. Lucy isn't particularly small, standing at five-foot-seven even without the heels, but she has a feeling that this man will dwarf her no matter what shoes she wears. "Lucy, I'd like you to meet Harley. We'll let you two get acquainted. Feel free to come ask one of us if you have any questions!" With that, the buffer of the Beta woman is gone, and Lucy is left looking down at a man who surely isn't very familiar with someone doing so. Cautiously, she seats herself across the table from him, holding a manicured hand out to offer him.​

​

"Lucy Barthelmes. Nice to meet you."​

 

[Sabre]

There are a couple hundred scenarios that Harley has mulled over in his mind since finding out he had a match. There have been two weeks between that call and his appointment, so it’s not like he’s had any shortage of time to think. But now there are barely minutes and he’s despairing over best and worst case scenario.

Best case scenario: his designated alpha is understanding of their unique situation. They become like roommates, maybe even friends, and eventually the guy finds a suitable partner and gets married or mates and their pairing is annulled and considered a failure. Harley can move on with his life.

Worse case scenario: his alpha is the kind of person that hates him for everything he is and everything he isn’t. The kind of despicable man that thinks their partner should be barefoot and pregnant and submissive. Harley is strong and determined and maybe even a little aggressive sometimes, certainly not the soft and forgiving thing that goes belly up at the sight of conflict likes he’s suppose to. Plus he’s missing the parts for some of that equation. So, worse case scenario- they kill each other or close to it.

A woman sits in front of him, jarring Harley from what is nary the beginning of his seven stages of grief. The interruption leaves him blinking owlishly at her when she offers her hand.

"Lucy Barthelmes. Nice to meet you."

Seconds feel like minutes. A woman? Is she an omega that has mistaken him for someone else?

No.

Her outfit, her posture, everything, if just the sight of her alone wasn’t enough confirmation- then the muffled and barely there scent that still makes the roof of his mouth tingle when his lips part, is.

‘Alpha’

Oh shit. He did not account for this.

His hand slides under hers, so large that his calloused fingertips brush against her wrist when he gives it a firm shake. He doesn’t react to jolt of electricity that travels up his corded forearm or the way it makes the hair on his nape stand on end. His mind is blank. Impossibly blank. “Harley-Beau Valentín, or O1656. Nice to meet you, Lucy.”

He didn’t know exactly what to expect but she is definitely not it, not that that’s a bad thing. “Do you reckon this feels as surreal for you as it does for me?” He takes his hand back and purses his lips a little. That wasn’t exactly the ice breaker he had planned, but none of this is what he planned. All of the things he considered yet he never made his way around to thinking he’d meet an anomaly just like him. He knows female alphas have existed, because he’s a male omega, but it seems impossible to ever meet one. Improbable, farfetched, and yet here she is

He still isn’t ready to have an alpha, but he’d be lying if he said his alpha being an attractive young woman didn’t make him a hair more open to the idea. At the very least his sense of impending doom has flown out the proverbial window.

He finally manages to stop gaping and gawking at her with his baby blues and redirects his attention to the documents in front of him. It’s mostly scrap paper, scribbled and sketches and stupid questions he’s been thinking of. He thumbs through all the parts that don’t matter. Most of them don’t. “Sooo, Lucy, where do you live? And how do you feel about cats?”

 

[Solo]

The Omega's hand closes around hers, and it's nearly impossible for her to associate him with the diminutive, obedient image of Omega that has always been portrayed to her. The mountain of a man doesn't look like he's ever been subservient in his life, and while she's used to having to puff herself up, to present herself as more intimidating than she looks to prove herself amongst swaths of Alphas, she doesn't get that instinct with him. Instead, his presence relaxes her, and as she shakes his hand quickly, grip just as firm as his before letting it fall and folding her hands on the table, she feels her muscles slowly begin to slacken.​

​

His voice is low, gruff, but honey-sweet, and it puts her instantly at ease, not only with its tone but with the words he spoke. What he stated couldn't be more on the nose; surreal is the perfect way to describe it, as though she is in a dream that she is only barely in control of. An out-of-body experience. Never had she dreamed something like this would happen, that she would find her match, and now that it was happening, it was difficult to believe. After all, just a few weeks earlier, she'd believed she'd go through the rest of her life unmated. Now... everything had changed.​

​

"Surreal sounds about right," she responds, the corner of her mouth quirking up in the essence of a smile. It wasn't often that she wore a friendly expression - too much kindness and she'd be taken for a fool in the corporate world - but at the very least, she wanted to make some effort to ease some of his nerves. ​

​

It's then that she realizes how woefully unprepared she is for their meeting. For work, she'd have already drawn up spreadsheets, presentations, pros and cons lists... Anything that would at least give her the air of walking into this having some sort of a clue, but she hasn't, and it would embarrass her if they didn't seem like they were on the exact same page with it all.​

​

He breaks the silence, and she's thankful for it; as composed as she likes to present herself, her tongue is tied in knots, but simple questions should be easy enough, right? "I've my own flat downtown. Heart of the city. Got a lovely view." And she knows it well, since if her time isn't spent at work, it's at home, save a few rare outings when she starts to feel cooped up, but that isn't often; her apartment is large enough that she could have a roommate and she'd likely still not feel cramped. "And I think cats are lovely. I'd be much more a cat person than a dog person, though I've never had either."​

 

[Sabre]

Omegas are stereotyped as being neurotic, nervous. Harley has heard them compared, more than once, to dogs with separation anxiety that can’t help but to pee on the carpet and destroy everything in sight when their master leaves the house. They can’t control themselves. He hates those comparisons, the stigma, and yet he can’t deny that he carries his own unique anxiety around in his head that sounds like a thousand chirping little birds. They make him good at his job, they also make him check the oven five times before he officially leaves the house in the morning. Suddenly, they’re mute.

“Oh, so close? The city is beautiful, you’re quite lucky. Do you work around here as well?” He leans forward as he talks, quickly leaving his paper forgotten as he rests his head on his hand instead. He isn’t shy about looking at Lucy and his gaze slowly stretches across every inch above the table, yet there’s nothing in his eyes that speaks to being lewd or even appreciative. He studying her and notices she has relaxed the tiniest bit. Now he’s certain they are effecting each other- even in the heavily filtered and synthetic smelling room. His anxiety is gone for the time being and he acknowledges, distantly, that this his lack of worry is something he should be especially worried about.


“I live about nine hours south, on the coast... with my cat. I’m going to show you my cat.” Harley chuffs and smiles as he pulls out his phone. Normally he would never bring up his cat, especially on a date- and he has to remind himself that this isn’t exactly a date. If they need to live with one another, it’s better that Lucy knows what she’s getting into. He offers his phone, the large screen taken up by a regal, furry thing, looking every bit the little lion with his mane of black and his piercing yellow eyes.
“His name is Neptune, I rescued him when he was the size of my hand and now he’s twenty-seven pounds and quite the handful, but he is my best friend. So it’s good you like cats.”

He takes his phone back, giving the picture a gentle look before clicking the device off and putting it away. He gives Lucy that same gentle look, complete with soft eyes and a barely there smile. “I’ll tell you now that I’ll ask you a million questions, if you let me. Lots of little things, like what you do for a living, or if you have any siblings or-“ he rubs his chin and makes a thoughtful sound. Too bad no amount of preparedness could have actually make him ready to tackle this situation. He almost doesn’t know what to say. “-or how about a big question? What do you think is most important for me to know about you, Lucy?”