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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH; (My sister chose the name thx)(open)
Topic Started: Aug 13 2016, 05:13 PM (2,449 Views)
dmboogie
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A Delicate Machine
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Yeah, we're all gonna die. We're all gonna die!"

((Asha Sur is doing her best.))

Legs dangling off the edge of the docks, eyes fixed at the churning waves below her, Asha couldn’t help but sing, not caring if there was anyone around to hear. The metal support wasn’t exactly the most comfortable seating, but as a goth and a ballerina, Asha knew all about suffering for the sake of aesthetic.

Really, of all the fucking ways to die, Asha had to end up with one that’d make the world news. Oh, no, car crashes, tripping down the stairs, or a long, debilitating illness would be far too pedestrian. Really, the sheer improbability of SOTF happening to her made the whole thing hilarious. Of all the schools in the United States of America, the terrorists had to go for one of the ones without a senior trip. Maybe they’d seen it as a challenge. An all-you-can-eat hubris buffet.

“Kiss your ass goodbye!” She shouted, then burst into hysterical laughter. Oh, blood was beautiful if you framed it right, but it decidedly lost its appeal once it was pooling under what had been a real living, feeling human being. At least she hadn’t died for the purpose of being a glorified exclamation mark.

And oh, she would die. It wasn’t even a question. Not worth thinking about. Once she accepted that, she'd have a hell of a lot more freedom with how to live the rest of her life. Asha hadn’t quite gotten to that point yet, but she felt it was worth making an effort.

The thought of death had never really scared her. The things that would come immediately before death might be terrifying, and Asha had no particular desire to feel excruciating pain, but once everything was all said and done, it’d be over. Either she’d still exist or she wouldn’t, and either way there wasn’t much point in worrying about it beforehand.

That’s the headspace she was trying to cram herself into. She'd behave like she was already dead, with nothing left to lose! If the outcome was certain, if nothing ultimately mattered, why spend her remaining hours on earth clinging to a single desperate thread that’d lead her out of the labyrinth before an overgrown cow ate her face, only to be beheaded by the king outside? Why care about trust, or caution, when getting it over with quickly would only make things easier for everyone?

Not that Asha wanted to die now, of course. She was rather attached to her life. Being alive’s a hard habit to break. Accepting her imminent demise wasn’t a matter of sorrow or hopelessness, it just meant that she could focus her attention on spreading as many positive vibes as she could before someone got around to (painlessly, hopefully) booting her off this mortal plane. Being nice to people felt nice, and if Asha could have just one positive conversation with her classmates, brighten just one person’s day a bit, make life a bit more bearable, her time on the island would be worth it. Hell, maybe it’d make people less eager to stab her in the back. She'd have a good time, they'd have a good time, everyone lived for a while longer!

Nihilism didn't have to be negative and destructive.

If her life was pointless, now, Asha’d just have to draw a brave face on the blunt edge. Jump into the screaming void with a song in her heart and a smile on her face. Turn herself into a shining beacon of light, light a candle in the darkness if only so she can wave “hi” to the beautiful, horrific monster that’s about to kill her.

Oh. Speaking of which. Asha turned her head and saw the crying, screaming girl burst out of the building behind her. The grin on her face froze for a moment, turning into a concerned frown. Asha liked Dorothy! She was nice! And she sure as hell looked like she could use a friend right now. Asha took a deep breath, plastered a smile back on her face. Hopefully it looked natural, and not a pained, unnatural rictus. She’d spent a lot of time practicing smiling in the worst way possible, so she’d have to hope those instincts were failing her now.

She carefully walked up to Dorothy, placing a gentle, reassuring hand on the sobbing girl’s shoulder. “Hey, Dorothy. I’m here for you. The world hasn’t ended yet, yeah? We’re both alive and it’s a beautiful morning on death island,” Asha said, unfortunately forgetting that not everyone found gallows humor to be a relaxing pastime.
a tribute for the dead and dying

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dmboogie
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A Delicate Machine
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Well, Dorothy certainly went from desolate to overjoyed in the blink of an eye. Asha hadn't expected her words to have that dramatic an effect, but she sure as hell wasn't complaining. She supposed it was a shame that she would no longer have any use of her legs, but it was a worthy price to pay for a happy friend. Asha patted her on the head. "You can bet I'm not leaving ya anytime soon!" Now all she had to do was make sure she could live up to these words. Oh, how she hated liars.

That was about to be tested, it seemed. Someone Asha recognized as a drama kid was dramatically running at them with a machete. Well, hopefully not running at them with a machete, but running at them while coincidentally having a machete in their hands. A world of nuance, there. The fact that he had the decency to shout a (seemingly strained) greeting let Asha hope that he wasn't in the mood for a fight.

She'd hoped to not have to test her newfound philosophy so soon, but it didn't seem like she had any other choice. Didn't help that Dorothy was still pinning her down. That wasn't her fault, though! Hugs were good and should happen as much as practical! Worst came to worst, Asha could distract the maniac long enough to let Dorothy make a break for it. Time to do or die, or maybe do by dying. Either worked, honestly.

"Hey there, Mr. Machete!" Asha shouted to Alex, broadly waving. "Welcome to the party!"
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dmboogie
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Nice, Asha's legs didn't have to be amputated after all. Now that Dorothy had let go, that meant that Asha could actually stand between her and Alex, too. Asha knew she didn't cut the most imposing figure, seeing as how Alex was practically a foot taller than her, but intimidation had never been the name of her game. Well, not traditional intimidation, at least. She bet that she could do wonders with a dark room and a creepy laugh, but that'd have to be an experiment for another day. The last thing Asha wanted Alex to be was scared.

Instead, Asha walked even closer to the dramatic drama kid, a smile on her face, stopping when she was only a few feet away from him. Hopefully she looked disarming, herself. Her fingers itched to brush against the taser she had hidden in her skirt pocket (a damn cute skirt with actual pockets, Asha had considered it the find of a lifetime even before it had come in handy on death island) but she resisted the urge, not wanting to look like she was reaching for a weapon. No need to give Alex a legitimate reason to use that pretty blade of his.

"Hard to say! I've only just woken up, you see," Asha said, exaggeratedly tilting her head in confusion, finger lightly tapping her chin in a universal gesture of thought. "If only we'd been given a little advance notice, we could all be looking our Sunday best right now!" If you were going to end up as a corpse either way, might as well save the undertaker the effort of dressing your carcass up. Looking like an elegant, refined ghost girl in a pale dress would have been ideal, of course, but Asha thought she'd done the best with what she had.

"Looks like we're right in front of a storehouse," she said, gesturing towards the entrance. "Could be that they have some hospital uniforms stashed away in there. Fancy taking a crack at running the asylum?" Asha laughed, hoping it didn't sound forced. Using levity as a weapon could only work if people thought you genuinely seemed to believe what you were saying. Better to be thought of as crazy than deceitful, any day of the week.
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dmboogie
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A Delicate Machine
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Oh, joy, more company! If you looked at things like an off-brand Demons and Exorcists puzzle, this could either be very good or very bad. Asha knew Wayne, sort of, he did art stuff and that made him cool in her book. That wasn't enough to really judge how he would act when the world was ending around him, unfortunately, so the real problem came with how he had unbalanced their tidy little arrangement.

Asha and Dot were cute and innocent demons, of course, which made Alex the fanatical exorcist. Exorcists were a cowardly lot so they only felt comfortable taking on a demon if they had at least equal numbers, which they hadn't before. Their conversation had seemed to disarm Alex well enough, he still seemed on-edge but Asha didn't think they were in any immediate danger of unpleasantness breaking out. After all, even with a weapon, he was still one against two. The three of them could cross the metaphorical river over to the other side without any problems.

Wayne was a big ol' question mark. He hadn't said anything at all, and wasn't brandishing a weapon. The way he waved his invisible white flag of surrender did make him seem scared, but was it an act? Was he a demon whose presence could further dissuade Alex from violence? Or was he an exorcist who would take the chance to team up with Alex and banish Asha and Dot?

Well, whatever. Asha remained determined to not let that be anything more than a fun thought experiment. She'd already made the decision not to mistrust anyone, so her course of action would remain the same wherever it lead her. Set sail for banal conversation.

"Heeey, Wayne!" Asha called out, waving. "No need to be nervous, four people makes a full party after all! Didja bring refreshments for everyone?"
a tribute for the dead and dying

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dmboogie
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A Delicate Machine
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"Nah, I'm good, Wayne. Knockout gas does a number on a girl's appetite, doncha know," Asha said with a shrug. "Thanks for offering, though." She felt a lot better about him, now that he'd actually spoken. Dude seemed nervous, but not nearly as dangerously as Alex was. More reserved, less twitchy. Probably still thought he'd be able to live, somehow. Well, not like she could fault him for that.

Dorothy, though, didn't seem to be doing so hot. Maybe the good vibes released by the hugfest had lost their strength, and the situation was sinking in for her again. Not good. Oh, it would have to happen eventually as part of the process of healthily accepting her own impending demise, but no reason it had to be now, out in the open and among strangers. Asha hoped she'd be able to cushion the blow as much as possible, make it more of a lethal injection than an executioner's rusty axe.

Alex saying his goodbyes and jogging away was the perfect excuse to move along. Asha didn't know what to make of his shouting, and under normal circumstances she'd stick around to make sure everyone was a-ok, but she couldn't in good conscience drag Dot along with her. You couldn't just try to balance people's happiness like a checkbook, knowingly stressing someone out in the hopes of making someone else's life easier.

"Well, it's pretty damn dreary around here! No place to hold a respectable party. Let's go, alright Dot? You're invited too, Wayne, but no pressure. Follow us if you wanna," Asha said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. After checking to make sure Dorothy was following her, she strolled away, humming her earlier nihilistic song.

((Asha Sur's just waiting for time to steal them all away.))
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