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A Delicate Machine
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((Asha's morning had been less than pleasant.))

Time did what time did best and left them all in the settling dust, and before they knew it the sun had started to set on the second day before Asha and Dot could do anything worthwhile. Rationing their single bag of supplies (she'd let Dot have the lions share) had left her hungry and thirsty; not starving or anything but just feeling like a thousand writhing parasites were wriggling around inside her and eating away at whatever they found without any regard for proper table manners. The least they could have done was serve Asha's heart on a white tablecloth. Her mouth was uncomfortably dry, and having two split sleeping shifts between the two of them had left her tired and irritable.

Oh, yeah, Asha's eyes were kind of red and swollen from crying so much after finding out one of her best friends had been 'stabbed. a lot,' too. Couldn't forget that.

God. Danny. She'd told herself over and over that she was ready for anything, that losing her friends now just meant a short delay before she could see them again, in the best case scenario; but the reality of it, the callousness with which the announcement guy had delivered the news had left her cold and sniveling. She knew that Danny couldn't have been handling any aspect of their new life well. How scared had he been, when he died? Had he been alone, with no one but Isabel to hear him scream? How much of a difference could Asha had made to him, if she'd found him when he was still alive?

Isabel continued to sink to new levels of monstrosity, too. Asha didn't regret letting her go; she'd done the best she could to get everyone out of that situation in one piece. No, all she felt was a sickening sensation in her stomach as she tried to understand the mindset that could have lead Isabel to kill a fellow ballerina. Oh, Asha knew that she'd thoroughly and satisfyingly burned her rickety bridge of friendship to Iz, but she'd always seemed fond of Danny. Did the years they'd spent together really mean that little to her? Asha suspected she already knew the answer to that.

So, when she and Dot had been aimlessly wandering after those fun little revelations, Asha hadn't thought twice before tailing the guy she had seen ducking through the chapel doors; too quick a glimpse to identify him. She couldn't let any other opportunity to help pass her by, so she strolled through the open doors without hesitation; at least before she realized the tense scene she'd stumbled onto.

Upon closer inspection, the guy she'd followed was Brendan, who didn't really register at all to her. Sorry, guy. More important was the person who was holding them both at projectile-point; Min-jae, a cool friend, a stylish goth; and also a killer. That last part didn't bother Asha so much, to be honest. Fuck, she'd given Isabel the benefit of the doubt with much less cause, it was the least she could to do be chill with someone she actually liked.

"So, uh, am I included in this, Jae?" Asha hesitantly asked, hands in the air.
a tribute for the dead and dying

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Devil's Choir · Crematorium Chapel