"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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dmboogie
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A Delicate Machine
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"No thanks. It'd be a waste of a good mood if I went to sleep right now!"

Asha grinned at Dot's obvious happiness. When she'd realized that no one else was in the library, Asha had been half-tempted to write it off and move on, try to find a more populated area of people who needed help. Now, though, she was fine with staying for a while. Dot's well-being was just as important as everyone else's, after all. Wayne, as always, was harder to read, but it didn't seem like he was itching for a change in scenery, either.

She was about to start lounging on the surprisingly comfortable couch when she heard the unmistakable sound of a hiccup, far enough away that it couldn't have come from any of them. Asha started a bit, sitting upright. She glanced at Wayne and Dot, shrugged, then hopped up from the couch and started investigating. Maybe their secret new friend had a good reason for wanting to stay hidden, and Asha was loath to drag them out into the light if she didn't have to, but she couldn't very well let the others worry about being watched. She'd check out the scene, nothing more.

It didn't take long for her to find Nancy's nook, and Asha suddenly had a whole lot of new information to take in all at once. Nancy herself, a nice girl with a larger-than-life personality that fear seemed to have made to fold in on itself. The blood that stained her; far, far too much for all of it to be Nancy's. Asha wasn't sure it would be better if it had been hers. And oh, the pretty little hatchet, gripped by tight hands that elegantly solved the mystery of where all that blood had come from.

Asha felt a flash of fear, the same she had felt but for a moment when Alex had first run up to her. She fought it back. Crouched down so she was at eye level with Nancy, flashed a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, you. Looks like you've had some trouble. It's okay, now!" Asha said, the warmth in her voice miraculously holding out as she held eye contact with Nancy, kept herself from flickering her gaze back and forth from the hatchet. It was all up to Nancy, now.
a tribute for the dead and dying

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白色雑音 · The Library