"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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By the time Asha realized that Iz was starting to recover from her terrible shock, it was too late. She was taken by surprise as Iz forced her back, caching a punch to the gut for good measure. She caught a glimpse of Jae as she was knocked back off of Iz, onto the floor; thought she heard him scream her name. Quickly got distracted by the stars in her eyes and the ringing in her ears as Iz kicked her.

She should have remembered that she had made her decision as soon as she had left the safety of their room - her head slammed against the wall, replacing split-second thought with a stunned nausea - oh, how she had fucked up - words words words, even now words, a constant vomitous stream of malice as soon as Iz had gotten the upper hand, as if she didn't even realize that she'd be dead right now if Asha had been like her - face rubbed against the rough wall, teary eyes blurring - Dot would be next - this halfassed amputation of a humanoid cancer hadn't helped anyone -

Asha's fingers were still curled tightly around the knife. Early-onset rigor mortis, probably. One last chance to still make things right. Iz hadn't noticed. Probably too wrapped up in her monologue. Arrogant to the end. It had given Asha enough time to recover just a bit, just enough to make one last effort to break free -

With a sudden burst of strength, Asha broke out of Iz's grasp. Blindly slashed upwards as she forced herself to her feet, getting a bit of distance between them. Still unsteady on her feet, she held her now-bloodied knife at the ready and watched for Iz's next move. Her breaths were heavy with adrenaline and pain and no small amount of fear. She said nothing. The time for irreverent quips had long passed.
a tribute for the dead and dying

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