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Viewing Single Post From: 白色雑音
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A Delicate Machine
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Asha was never exactly happy to see the morning's light, even under normal circumstances. Night was so much more lovely, quiet and soft and full of teeth while day was harsh and inescapable. Admittedly, she was probably just biased because of how often her alarm before school had jarred her out of a delightfully twisted dreamscape.

Now, though, the sun streaming through the library windows filled her with a sudden panic, once she had woken up enough to comprehend what it meant. She'd fucked up, betrayed Dorothy's trust in her. Not in such a direct way as Wayne had, no; but it was still a failure. By pushing herself to try and give Dot some extra peace, Asha had put her in a danger. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, dying in their sleep. No fear, no suffering, and holy shit did Asha not want to ride that train of thought.

Instead she quickly turned behind her, eyes glancing past Isabel, and confirmed that Dot was still where Asha had left her, still snoring. She sighed, relieved. She did a double-take. She shrieked and recoiled, falling out of her chair. She scrambled to her feet, instinctively pointing her taser, before fully recognizing Isabel's face. "Holy- holy jesus. Fuck," Asha stammered, lowering her taser and sinking back down onto the chair. "How - goddammit, how fucking long have you been here, Iz?"

That'd been a classic horror move right there; sitting still and just watching until someone finally got around to noticing you. Asha was impressed, despite her own racing heart. She wasn't a jumpscare kinda girl, but christ, she couldn't deny the effectiveness of that one. Her brain started to process the whole scene, now that the initial shock of discovering that someone had been watching her sleep for god-knows-how-long had worn off.

First, most obviously, Isabel and her (cute) pink sweater were stained with blood, even worse than Nancy had been. Same went for the sword and halberd she had with her, and also holy shit she was just sort of casually holding on to a bloodstained sword and halberd. The weirdest thing was that honestly, Asha wasn't surprised at all.

She'd never liked Isabel, even after all those years of suffering for their art together. Shit, Asha considered everyone else on the team among her closest friends, and she felt for Isabel in a general sense because christ her parents were dicks, (bringing back uncomfortable memories of Asha's own mother during middle school) but in the end, the girl was a type of person Asha despised the most: a petty bully. Sure, she'd never crossed the line, never done or said anything that couldn't ultimately be waved away and forgotten about, but still. Asha had known her long enough to realize that she reveled in making people miserable simply because she could.

Asha did her best to keep up appearances, of course. Her own feelings aside, she still had to be around Isabel for huge periods of time, still had to count on her and be counted on in turn when they were doing ballet. Hell, sometimes Asha even let herself slip, found herself legitimately enjoying Isabel's company, sharing a genuine moment or two. Never for too long, though; another reminder of her thoughtless cruelty would always jar Asha back to never saying more than politeness mandated, never smiling any wider than she had to. She honestly wasn't sure if Isabel even noticed.

But here? They were both in the same boat, and Isabel obviously didn't deserve to die, either. Maybe there was "a good reason" for the blood she had shed, maybe there wasn't, but either way; she'd had ample opportunity to hurt Asha and Dot, and she hadn't. That alone meant she could at least be given the benefit of the doubt.

"Cool sword, by the way."
a tribute for the dead and dying

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白色雑音 · The Library