Armand needs a few moments more before he's recovered enough to speak, and even then his voice is still rough from having the tentacle down his throat, though that's also the reason he doesn't need even longer to heal. "Clear there is nothing you can do? And yet so possessive."
This one rattles him enough that he can't speak. It's not great on his healing spine, either. Or his insides. But being hurt is just a condition of existence. Not being able to protect the people you care about can be a condition of existence, too.
Ash knows full well that this is not an acquiescing silence, but what else can she do? This is all the power she has here. Doing anything less would be unbearable, and there's nothing more she can do.
So this has to be enough. It has to be. She has to be able to do at least this one pathetic little thing, keeping someone she cares about safe, right.
(In theory, she could talk to Sam. In practice that was never in the running for even a single moment.)
"Stay away from her. Especially if she comes to you."
Ashton can physical prevent Armand from speaking, but that's as far as it goes and Armand is sure that both of them know it. Even if Ashton might want to believe something else. She can hurt him, but he'll heal. She could kill him, but he'll come back and then she wouldn't even get the chance to do this much.
They're powerless here, in any way that really matters.
What else is there? Trying to convince someone with words? If that worked, then you wouldn't constantly have to try to work around them to protect them.
He just looks at her, not bothering to waste energy speaking what doesn't have to be said.
For a long moment, she really does think about going for the eyes. He wouldn't be able to stop her.
But but but but. Concealment. Right. If his warden decides to pay a visit in the next few minutes, longer, that's a problem; he doesn't heal like she does, they'd be found out in an instant, and she's already pushed it further than maybe she should've.
This won't work. She knows that. If anything Ash just redoubled Armand's interest in Aerith, so — maybe this was a mistake, maybe this was — it's all she's fucking good for, just running in and fucking it up, she — she — she just —
She puts it away. She can't worry about that. She did what she could, didn't she?
Ashton rolls off him, briefly dissolves into a pool of blood after she does, and clumsily pushes herself to her feet as she transitions back into being flesh. That takes care of the blood, at least, though not the clothes, so she wanders off to get another shirt. Maybe new pants. She'll see.
It will take him longer to heal from this than from some of their... little encounters. He can't heal as Ashton does, but that disadvantage in one sort of fight can be an advantage in another. He can move his arm enough that he can start licking the blood off his hand. It's unlikely that anyone's going to knock at the door before he's healed enough to wave off any questions, but at the moment he can't cavalierly reattach limbs.
Ashton can regrow organs without a sign, and yet is still foolish enough to to care for people who she can't protect.
It's not surprising in the least, but a lack of surprise doesn't detract from his pleasant mood. Aerith will come to him again. And Ashton has shown how little she can do about it.
He's in a good enough mood to admit to himself that Ashton's trick with the pool of blood would save on having to get blood out of his hair.
She's halfway through grabbing a shirt, fingers twisted in the material, when she just sort of... slows to a stop. Takes one hand, runs her thumb over the skin between her clavicles -- not that there's anything there, not for Armand, anyway; you can't see it unless you know it's there, but it's the crystal of a pendant set into her skin, the chain of it running below the skin and invisible.
That crystal's been green since the day she got it, which means the protection it grants her is on. She's always let Armand make the first move since then, and that seems to have circumvented it, worked around it, never tripped that rule on what happens if she attacks first --
It's red. The protection is gone. And she can't get it reactivated unless John does it, which means she needs to figure out how to explain any of this.
This is an entirely different type of dawning horror than she was just going through. She'd -- in retrospect she'd felt it as soon as she'd speared through Armand's thigh, some sixth-sense click of knowledge, but she hadn't cared. She'd been so focused on hurting him to get the message across that she hadn't actually identified that feeling for what it was.
Fuck. Fuck. How the hell is she going to explain anything to John? Even if he doesn't know she still needs to -- find some way to justify, to tell a story of how she attacked someone and the Dancer wasn't there for it. How is she -- how is -- how did she fuck up this badly, she was just trying to help --
Basically, instead of putting a new shirt on, Ashton stands near the closet with a shirt in her hands and dissociates. Leans back against the wall and slides down to sitting, her body not held quite right, like she's too aware of it to actually enter a relaxed position.
Armand had generously granted that Ashton could probably realize that she'd fucked up her attempt at a 'warning' when he'd first noticed her... disengagement. It's a state of mind that can happen to the best of them. It's a reasonable way to deal with a problem so that you can move on.
But while Ashton had violently reinforced that she cares too much about Aerith, she had already made that clear by talking to him in the first place. He doesn't think it's so dramatic as to cause this much of a reaction. Not when he's still in the room, at least.
This looks suspiciously like another problem, and Armand doesn't think she's so distractable that it could be about something completely unrelated to their current circumstances. Which means it could be a problem for him. It would be just like her.
He doesn't stand directly looming over her, but he does pause rather than going to pull out a new shirt for himself.
"None of your business." Maybe, if she keeps looking at this shirt for long enough, an answer will miraculously reveal itself to her. Or maybe she'll get a message on her communicator and need to dig it out of where she keeps it, since these pants didn't have pockets even before they sustained tragic damage. Or a third option! Who can say. Not her.
He scoffs. He would like it to not be his business! If he decided he had a sudden interest in other people's problems - which he does not - that list would not include Ashton! Yet what he wants has never held off misfortune.
"It is if it could cause problems for me." If he could trust Ashton not to spread misfortune around he could just throw her out, unfortunately, she can't be trusted.
It's what she does! It's who she is. She's really very good at it, ruining and breaking things, for someone who supposedly isn't fundamentally designed for it.
Some days she believes that whole idea, that there's nothing inherently wrong with her, more than others.
Armand knew that whatever Ashton's problem is would somehow become his problem. Sometimes his gift of prophecy pays off almost immediately. The dancer outside means that he couldn't choose 'pretend no one's here', so it's lucky he has all his problem solving skills to bring to bear.
He pulls off his ripped up shirt, tossing it into the wardrobe and closing the door. He gives Ashton one last glare, before slipping into a more 'casual' mode to open the door.
In the intervening moments since the knock, Ashton has managed to get that shirt on and is currently in the middle of wriggling into different shorts. Objectively being a shapeshifter could probably mean she could do this faster... somehow, but more than anything she's doing it with the sort of hurry that comes with knowing she was doing something she 'shouldn't' be and trying to hide it as fast as possible. She's pretty alright at quick changes these days.
She's still in the face she was in for working in the Lounge tonight when she gets to the door; dirty blonde curls pulled out of her face, black eyes, pierced ears, but otherwise not that far from her authentic appearance. For a moment she tries for a smile and just can't really make it there, not even for something plastic and fake. "You called?"
Ash sees John's hand, clearly processes it, and doesn't take it. She thinks about it! But it doesn't matter if he's not upset now, he's going to be, she's an incredible fuckup and who wouldn't be angry with that? Everyone should. Even John.
"Do we have to?" Private is fine; talking seems like it's out of her wheelhouse. As she's just been reminded of, she's very bad at it and is unlikely to improve any situation by doing it, so maybe it's not worth trying right now.
Maybe she could lie down for a while and not think about anything. That would be nice.
The necklace's crystal is clearly visible on her chest and definitely, unmistakably, red.
John nods. Then the hand he'd held out points to the crystal on the necklace before he draws it back.
"We do, yes. I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something," and there's a glance at Armand, "but I'm going to insist. Do you want to go to your cabin or mine?"
For all the many terrible things Ashton feels about Armand, she does at least appreciate and respect his immediate commitment to the lie when she isn't capable of it. At least someone's doing a bit of misdirection.
The decision takes her several seconds to make. What if, what if, what if — make a choice, Ash, don't just stand there — and eventually she lands on "Yours."
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momijizukamori
Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-01 11:01 pm (UTC)Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 12:02 am (UTC)Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 12:07 am (UTC)Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 12:19 am (UTC)Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 12:21 am (UTC)Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 12:38 am (UTC)So this has to be enough. It has to be. She has to be able to do at least this one pathetic little thing, keeping someone she cares about safe, right.
(In theory, she could talk to Sam. In practice that was never in the running for even a single moment.)
"Stay away from her. Especially if she comes to you."
Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 12:46 am (UTC)They're powerless here, in any way that really matters.
What else is there? Trying to convince someone with words? If that worked, then you wouldn't constantly have to try to work around them to protect them.
He just looks at her, not bothering to waste energy speaking what doesn't have to be said.
Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 02:44 am (UTC)But but but but. Concealment. Right. If his warden decides to pay a visit in the next few minutes, longer, that's a problem; he doesn't heal like she does, they'd be found out in an instant, and she's already pushed it further than maybe she should've.
This won't work. She knows that. If anything Ash just redoubled Armand's interest in Aerith, so — maybe this was a mistake, maybe this was — it's all she's fucking good for, just running in and fucking it up, she — she — she just —
She puts it away. She can't worry about that. She did what she could, didn't she?
Ashton rolls off him, briefly dissolves into a pool of blood after she does, and clumsily pushes herself to her feet as she transitions back into being flesh. That takes care of the blood, at least, though not the clothes, so she wanders off to get another shirt. Maybe new pants. She'll see.
Re: general cw for violence / gore / potential body horror for the rest of the thread tbh
Date: 2025-08-02 03:02 am (UTC)Ashton can regrow organs without a sign, and yet is still foolish enough to to care for people who she can't protect.
It's not surprising in the least, but a lack of surprise doesn't detract from his pleasant mood. Aerith will come to him again. And Ashton has shown how little she can do about it.
He's in a good enough mood to admit to himself that Ashton's trick with the pool of blood would save on having to get blood out of his hair.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 05:23 am (UTC)That crystal's been green since the day she got it, which means the protection it grants her is on. She's always let Armand make the first move since then, and that seems to have circumvented it, worked around it, never tripped that rule on what happens if she attacks first --
It's red. The protection is gone. And she can't get it reactivated unless John does it, which means she needs to figure out how to explain any of this.
This is an entirely different type of dawning horror than she was just going through. She'd -- in retrospect she'd felt it as soon as she'd speared through Armand's thigh, some sixth-sense click of knowledge, but she hadn't cared. She'd been so focused on hurting him to get the message across that she hadn't actually identified that feeling for what it was.
Fuck. Fuck. How the hell is she going to explain anything to John? Even if he doesn't know she still needs to -- find some way to justify, to tell a story of how she attacked someone and the Dancer wasn't there for it. How is she -- how is -- how did she fuck up this badly, she was just trying to help --
Basically, instead of putting a new shirt on, Ashton stands near the closet with a shirt in her hands and dissociates. Leans back against the wall and slides down to sitting, her body not held quite right, like she's too aware of it to actually enter a relaxed position.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 05:41 am (UTC)But while Ashton had violently reinforced that she cares too much about Aerith, she had already made that clear by talking to him in the first place. He doesn't think it's so dramatic as to cause this much of a reaction. Not when he's still in the room, at least.
This looks suspiciously like another problem, and Armand doesn't think she's so distractable that it could be about something completely unrelated to their current circumstances. Which means it could be a problem for him. It would be just like her.
He doesn't stand directly looming over her, but he does pause rather than going to pull out a new shirt for himself.
"What is it now?"
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 05:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 06:02 am (UTC)"It is if it could cause problems for me." If he could trust Ashton not to spread misfortune around he could just throw her out, unfortunately, she can't be trusted.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 06:18 am (UTC)Some days she believes that whole idea, that there's nothing inherently wrong with her, more than others.
"None of your business."
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 06:22 am (UTC)If he has to start playing a guessing game he'll be so unimpressed. ...Even more unimpressed than he is currently.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 07:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 07:26 am (UTC)Armand knew that whatever Ashton's problem is would somehow become his problem. Sometimes his gift of prophecy pays off almost immediately. The dancer outside means that he couldn't choose 'pretend no one's here', so it's lucky he has all his problem solving skills to bring to bear.
He pulls off his ripped up shirt, tossing it into the wardrobe and closing the door. He gives Ashton one last glare, before slipping into a more 'casual' mode to open the door.
"Yes?"
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 08:05 am (UTC)There's a brief glance over of Armand before he pointedly doesn't look any further into the room.
"Could Ashton come to the door, please?"
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 03:12 pm (UTC)In the intervening moments since the knock, Ashton has managed to get that shirt on and is currently in the middle of wriggling into different shorts. Objectively being a shapeshifter could probably mean she could do this faster... somehow, but more than anything she's doing it with the sort of hurry that comes with knowing she was doing something she 'shouldn't' be and trying to hide it as fast as possible. She's pretty alright at quick changes these days.
She's still in the face she was in for working in the Lounge tonight when she gets to the door; dirty blonde curls pulled out of her face, black eyes, pierced ears, but otherwise not that far from her authentic appearance. For a moment she tries for a smile and just can't really make it there, not even for something plastic and fake. "You called?"
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 03:17 pm (UTC)"Can we talk in private for a moment?"
There's a look for the necklace. To see if it's on. To see what color it is.
There's no anger, not even the kind that hides behind a soft face or an over-sweet smile. He just looks focused and concerned. About Ashton.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 04:56 pm (UTC)He absolutely doesn't trust Ashton not to ruck this up - as that's already a lot cause - but he's done what he can.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 06:48 pm (UTC)"Do we have to?" Private is fine; talking seems like it's out of her wheelhouse. As she's just been reminded of, she's very bad at it and is unlikely to improve any situation by doing it, so maybe it's not worth trying right now.
Maybe she could lie down for a while and not think about anything. That would be nice.
The necklace's crystal is clearly visible on her chest and definitely, unmistakably, red.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 07:05 pm (UTC)"We do, yes. I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something," and there's a glance at Armand, "but I'm going to insist. Do you want to go to your cabin or mine?"
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 07:10 pm (UTC)He manages a completely genuine, pleasant smile for Ashton because someone has to be a professional here.
no subject
Date: 2025-08-02 08:35 pm (UTC)The decision takes her several seconds to make. What if, what if, what if — make a choice, Ash, don't just stand there — and eventually she lands on "Yours."
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