[ ashlyn can be found sometime after trial... sitting outside, behind the theater. it's her sulking spot. i'm sorry all of her starters are the equivalent of :) she's here come bother her!!! :) but alas. ]
Camille will find her. She's in a sulk herself, and shamefully has a bottle of whisky slung in one hand. When she spots Ashlyn she has half a mind to drop it. Where? Who knows. No convenient bush or barrels.
In the end she just pulls up beside her anyway. Sets the bottle on the opposite side, letting her head clunk against the wood.]
[ she stays quiet even longer, mulling over what to say to this. trying to sort out how she feels and then even more difficult: put it into words.
camille hadn't made her unbraid her hair.
... ]
I already know what happens next. What people have to do and that it doesn't work to put it off. [ she just doesn't think anything she could say is going to change that, so. why bother. ]
[Cruel, cruel, cruel. Camille's throat closes up. Maybe there was still a part of her that wanted it to be a terrible coincidence. That's just not the way this place works.
It's coming for all of them, isn't it? One way or another, they'll be plucked by the collar and dropped off the edge. Makes sense it would start coming for the rest of the kids.]
...Yeah. I know too. [Fuck it. She'll put an arm around her, dragging her close. Turning her cheek to her hair. Ashlyn never is keen on the cuddly stuff, but for now she'll have to humour an old woman. Camille dodges it as much as she can, but if you catch her once she never wants to let go.]
That doesn't mean you have to bear it alone. It's worse if you do. So much worse.
[ like always, ashlyn just lets her do this, not really returning the embrace but doing nothing to avoid it. all she does is bow her head, letting her bangs hide her face as much as she can. ]
You already went through it.
[ as herself. and watching kate, today. camille knows every side of this intimately. it feels bad to burden her with anything more. ]
[They'll have a week, at most. One week. Other people are on the trail already, and they've seen the results now. Coddling Kate and trying to suppress her led to an explosion. Killing Camille and bringing her back only prolonged suffering in a different direction.
She wants there to be another way. Badly. She wants to lift Ash on her shoulders so she can climb out of this fucking pit. Run. Far. Get away from this hell.
But if War — Essek was right, there's only one place for them to go. They're all just making the trip on different dates.]
You can always come to me. Okay? No matter how big or how small, or how stupid or awful this thing is. I'll listen. I'll hear you out. I want to hear your side of it, always.
[ truthfully, ashlyn doesn't really like talking about things that much. she's been doing her best to be communicative (about what she can be) while she's here, because that's what's in everyone's best interests. but it's not as though she enjoys it.
the thought of trying to talk about this whole mess doesn't feel comforting at all.
but. being offered that comfort means something to her. her emotions dip into gratitude, even though there's this clear through-line of paranoid distrust. ]
It doesn't change anything. My side. What I say. It won't change any of it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Week 5: Saturday
no subject
Camille will find her. She's in a sulk herself, and shamefully has a bottle of whisky slung in one hand. When she spots Ashlyn she has half a mind to drop it. Where? Who knows. No convenient bush or barrels.
In the end she just pulls up beside her anyway. Sets the bottle on the opposite side, letting her head clunk against the wood.]
Said we'd talk, didn't I?
no subject
Sure. You wanna talk about Kate?
no subject
[Kate is...well. That'll cleave her in two if she's not careful.
Except history is repeating itself. Again, and again, and again.]
Right now I'm worried about you.
no subject
no subject
Don't do that. Not tonight.
no subject
...
no subject
Ash, you need to let people worry about you sometimes. It's okay if you're not okay.
[Unbidden, her eyes skate up to her hair. Tight braids. She never asked her to undo them. Gale did.
A fierce protectiveness rolls over her. A cutting heartbreak. Then back to the dull despondency.]
...Even if you don't think I'll like the answer. I'd rather hear the truth.
no subject
camille hadn't made her unbraid her hair.
... ]
I already know what happens next. What people have to do and that it doesn't work to put it off. [ she just doesn't think anything she could say is going to change that, so. why bother. ]
no subject
It's coming for all of them, isn't it? One way or another, they'll be plucked by the collar and dropped off the edge. Makes sense it would start coming for the rest of the kids.]
...Yeah. I know too. [Fuck it. She'll put an arm around her, dragging her close. Turning her cheek to her hair. Ashlyn never is keen on the cuddly stuff, but for now she'll have to humour an old woman. Camille dodges it as much as she can, but if you catch her once she never wants to let go.]
That doesn't mean you have to bear it alone. It's worse if you do. So much worse.
no subject
You already went through it.
[ as herself. and watching kate, today. camille knows every side of this intimately. it feels bad to burden her with anything more. ]
no subject
And I won't abandon you.
[They'll have a week, at most. One week. Other people are on the trail already, and they've seen the results now. Coddling Kate and trying to suppress her led to an explosion. Killing Camille and bringing her back only prolonged suffering in a different direction.
She wants there to be another way. Badly. She wants to lift Ash on her shoulders so she can climb out of this fucking pit. Run. Far. Get away from this hell.
But if War — Essek was right, there's only one place for them to go. They're all just making the trip on different dates.]
You can always come to me. Okay? No matter how big or how small, or how stupid or awful this thing is. I'll listen. I'll hear you out. I want to hear your side of it, always.
no subject
the thought of trying to talk about this whole mess doesn't feel comforting at all.
but. being offered that comfort means something to her. her emotions dip into gratitude, even though there's this clear through-line of paranoid distrust. ]
It doesn't change anything. My side. What I say. It won't change any of it.