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A Delicate Machine
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Oh, Asha was a glad victim of the return of Dot's patented attack hug technique. As long as that powerful weapon remained in their arsenal, things could never get too dark or dreary. The lovely double-edged sword had thankfully worked its magic on Dot, too; and whatever flavor of demons had been hovering over her bedside, they must have been banished in a single flash of good cheer.

Tragically, all hugs eventually had to come to an end. Asha smiled at Dot, after she was released. "At least the pew didn't, like, give you a sliver while you were sleeping? That would really suck. But yeah, Like Jae said, we've just been talking."

The rain kicked into high gear, crashing down on the roof above them. This was the kind of night where Asha would sit on the porch of her house, uncaring of the cold; watching the drops fall through the streetlights, listening to the torrential downpour surrounding her, feeling comfortingly insignificant next to nature's enormity. The only thing preventing her from doing the same thing that night was the fact that it wasn't nearly as fun when you didn't have a heated house and a cup of coffee to return to.

She turned to Jae and shrugged. "I mean, I've kind of always wanted to be an arsonist, but I don't think that'd be very productive." As much as she loved the sight of a roaring fire, irrevocably turning all it touched into an ashy skeleton of itself, she couldn't really get behind destruction for destruction's sake. "We might just have to pretend to be penguins and huddle for warmth."
a tribute for the dead and dying

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Happy Hour with the Deicide Squad · Crematorium Chapel