Michael found her all alone sitting on the grass, her back against the strong stone of the castle and her eyes downcast. The flowers surrounded her but at the time of her sadness their beauty seemed a mockery.
Vivaldi painted every rose in her garden so they all were the same, all a perfect shade of lovely red. If any dared to be different they were simply painted over and made like all the rest. If only it were so easy for her to change herself to fit in. If only she could somehow paint herself whatever damn color she needed to be one of those Roleholders...
She stared across the expanse of grass at Michael. He took unsure steps towards her, carrying a plate of food.
"You left before you could eat so I, uh, brought you some." He set it down beside her.
"You are very kind to me," she said numbly, a hint of suspicion tainting her voice.
He sighed roughly. "Geez. I'm being nice. Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?"
"Funny you should mention my mother!" she said, her smile forced.
"Let me guess? Knowing you something horrible and tragic happened to her. Wait...hold on. I'm being an ass." He rubbed the back of his head. "I...actually just came here to see if you were okay. I'm also wondering if you'll care to explain why you were covered in blood and wearing a stolen dress."
She leaned back against the wall and put on her smile. "I'm fine, handsome. Thank you for asking."
"Look, I don't understand you, Ashe. Seriously, but I want to understand. Maybe that's your problem. Nobody ever tries to care. So I care."
She eyed him side-long. "Words are cheap. I prefer actions."
"Uh...I brought you food. That's an action. Aren't chicks supposed to fall all over themselves for that? It's primal, like a caveman bringing cavewoman a cavetiger home."
She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. "Do I look like a girl who eats a lot?" she asked as she fiddled with her hair.
He was momentarily distracted. "I mean, you look like you eat just enough and get plenty of exercise. I didn't mean to imply that your body was not rockin'! I just...I'm sorry. You just shut down my higher brain functions. I am now leaving 'being an ass' mode."
She laughed. "I like you Michael. You're honest."
"To a fault," he added dryly. "So, what's going on in your head? How can you kill so...easily?"
"Everyone kills easily here."
"I noticed." He shuddered. "But you're extra good at it."
She watched him strangely, her blue and red eyes reflecting the sun's light differently, making her red eye seem to almost be burning. But such a notion was silly, Michael thought.
"This world...is purgatory," she said. "A place of sinners. It's an endless loop. Why else do you think we can never leave, why we are so easily shuffled into the next body after one is killed? There is no afterlife, no god. There is only this-this place." The sun made long shadows on her face, making her seem weary and tired. "Mother...she called this a wonderland. She was wrong."
Michael honestly had nothing to say. What could he say? For all he knew this wonderland really could be purgatory by another name.
"I don't mean it literally is," she said hastily. "But figuratively, is this place all that different from it? And so my philosophy is this. I can give people heaven or hell. It doesn't matter. Sometimes I give them what they want-all anyone wants from me-and they get a taste of heaven, but I end up killing them in the end anyway. And hell...sometimes I choose that. It's a coin toss in my head really. I would never go after a Roleholder. It would cause too many problems, but the faceless are free game."
"That's...cruel."
"The world's cruel."
"Biting a dog after it bit you is not going to solve the problem! Okay, bad analogy, but honestly."
"It's just how I work, okay? This is how it is..."
For a moment he was silent, thinking, but then, "This persona...your entire personality...it's almost like you created it with the sole purpose of keeping yourself from crying at night."
"That's not true," she snapped, a pained look on her face. "If it was, I still wouldn't cry at night like I do..."
He stared at her, feeling an unfathomable gulf between them. Then in but a moment he bridged the gap and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. Her whole body froze. Bent at the knees, he stayed on the ground with her in silence.
She pushed him away. "What was that?"
"I-I really don't know. I just thought you needed a hug..." It sounded so stupid when he said it out loud.
To his utter surprise, a small smile cracked on her face. "I'm just not used to them."
He bit his lip, his whole face red. "Yeah...look, it was kind of stupid but I just-I'm sorry. I need to keep my hands to myself."
She sighed, a smile still on her face as she patted him playfully on the head. It was a gentler smile than her usual.
"You know, you're not like Alice. I think you're a better foriegner than Alice ever was."
"Someone should give me an award."
"No, I mean it. You're a good person. I-I wish I could be a good person for you. But I feel so nasty, so dirty sometimes. I'm not sure I can. Black is always telling me I won't anyway." She looked angry.
"Ashe...you scare me sometimes, but I know you're not nasty and you're not dirty. You're just a little lost."
"I disgust myself."
"Funny. I don't see anything disgusting here."
"My father just laughs at me and says I was meant to be lost like him."
"But you'll find your way. You will." His voice became surprisingly strong. "How about your mother? Did she think differently? Where is your mother, anyway?"
"Mother...is gone." She looked to the side.
"A vague answer."
"I need to show you something." she said. "As a foriegner you should know. It will clear many, many things up. I will show you what happened to my mother...and what may happen to you."
"Wait...your mother was a foriegner?"
She simply smiled and took him by the hand, inviting him to follow her.
Perhaps he was making a mistake, but he had to know. He accepted her, willing to follow her anywhere.
A/N: Here's a summary for those who don't feel like reading the chapter: Ashe is an emo crazy assassin and Michael makes moves on her by going "Seriously, baby, I'm a phsyciatrist. Let me diagnose you." Ashe goes for it and they have fifty babies. The End.
This was a short chapter meant to be a character moment for both Ashe and Michael. Next chapter will be beefier with lots of plot and revelations.
I'm on a super-inspired update rampage. Watch out.