Asher Isaacs, Lost and Found Father

Now that the immediate danger is over, the royal guard have secured the Great Mother's chamber and set about efficiently restoring order. A swarm of medics are seeing to Donna, the detonator has been stuffed into a giant envelope with 'EVIDENCE' scrawled across the front, and a new set of attendants are already hard at work with Gal, slowly sinking the largest dildo you've ever seen into her torrential pussy. Through it all, the witch simply sighs and hums, contentment radiating off of her in nearly visible waves.

You're barely paying attention, though. It's hard to focus on much else when the man that Reality declared your father returned from the dead before your eyes. Every time you think that you've fully acclimated to the New You and her Milked Timeline, along comes some new revelation to throw you for a loop. It's one thing to understand that this man is your father, but having to actually deal with it is something else entirely.

Though actually, maybe this isn't just a failure on your part to reconcile your numerous pasts. Asher Isaacs is your father, yes, but even if this timeline was the only one you'd ever known, you haven't met him before. He died, or vanished you suppose, when you were only a few months old. He's not really your father. And to be honest, you've had more than enough time to become cool with the prospect of not having one of those.

But he is your mother's husband, and you know that she still loves him. And even beyond that, he's been languishing away here for the better part of two decades, all but stripped of his humanity and higher functions, and now your actions have brought him back. Even if he wasn't connected to you in any way, you'd have a responsibility to this man.

You give Isabelle's hand a squeeze. "I'm gonna go talk to him."

Isabelle nods, carefully brushing the hair back from your forehead before leaning in to give it a small kiss. "Okay. I'm going to check on Donna. If you need me, I'll be close. Okay?"

One of the royal guards has draped a medical blanket over Asher's shoulders, the man clutching it tightly to himself as he attempts to answer the careful questions of a gentle looking elf. "--very much, no...just flashes, now and then? Dreams? It's getting blurrier."

The elf nods, scribbling that down on her pad. "What is the last thing you do remember?"

The man rubs at one eye, and you have to take a moment to marvel at him. All those years marinating in the Ardor clearly left behind some parting gifts. For a man easily in his late forties, he's sporting a body that would put any twenty-something to shame. And as weirded out as it makes you to think about your dad's dick, there's no chance he was packing all that before his dip into the Great Mother's milk. "Um, I was on my bike. Something hit me? Or...I hit something? Do you know what happened?"

You barely know more than he does, unfortunately. It's not like Asher Isaacs vanished one night or something. He was straight up dead! They found most of a body and everything! No use waffling over that right now, though. This is as good a time as any to clear your throat, injecting yourself into the interview. When Asher looks your way, however, your confident facade almost falters. God, he really does look just like a much, much handsomer Boy You, doesn't he? You've got, like, the exact same eyes. Is that just coincidence, or more sorcery at work?

Ugh, get with it, Ash; he's the one who gets to be confused by this situation, not you. "I might be able to help with that. You're, um...Asher Isaacs?"

The man slowly nods, then shivers, pulling his blanket more tightly around him. "Yes, I...Jesus. It's like I haven't heard my name in..." Asher's brow sinks as he considers that. "...huh. How long have I been here? And where is here?"

"Right, those are all great questions. First, though." You glance towards the friendly elf. "Can we get him some clothes?"

Asher gawks at the strangeness of the elven kingdom as you lead him out of the underground complex, clearly just as taken by its combination of a stately castle and a sitcom mall circa 1987 as you were. Meanwhile, you're doing your best to not burst out in laughter at the sight of him in gym shorts and a hugely oversized T-shirt with a mean looking Tweety Bird plastered on it. You gotta strike while the iron's hot, Ash. "So, let's just get this out of the way: based on everything that's happened to you, and all this,"--you wave you hand around, indicating your otherworldly surroundings--"I don't need to convince you that magic is real, do I?"

"Uh, no. Those guys are elves." Asher points out a gaggle of pointy-eared girls in crop tops, chatting away as they head down the road. "Those are elves and it looks like they're headed to an Orange Julius. Do those even still exist?"

"Here they do. They're way into the eighties here. 'Here' being the Elf World."

"That's crazy..." Asher blinks. "Wait, is that why they kept asking me for photos? I thought those were for evidence reports; were those just fan pics?"

"Probably. Don't worry though; I doubt you're going to wind up on some elf's Instagram."

"On what?"

Oh shit, right. "Er, about that. You asked how long it's been?" He slowly nods, so you continue on. "Well, I'll just tell you: it's been about eighteen years."

Asher doesn't respond right away, a far-off look in his eyes as he runs his hands through his silver and black hair. When he eases himself down onto a nearby bench, you carefully sit down beside him. You have no idea how difficult something like that must be to hear. So it's a pleasant surprise when he releases his hair with a chuckle, glancing over to offer you a wry grin. "I should look on the bright side. I'd just agreed to be in the stupidest movie. At least I dodged that turd."

Your inner film nerd cannot resist following up this juicy bit of unearthed cinema trivia. "Really? What was it?"

"This awful street racing thing. It was based on some Vibe article."

Street racing thing...uh, wait. "Are you talking about The Fast and the Furious?"

Asher gives you a disbelieving look. "They still made it? Wow. I can't believe you've heard of it, though."

"Well yeah, they made a bunch more of them." At Asher's continued disbelief, you press on. "Yeah, man. Like eight more."

"Eight more?" Asher considers that for a moment. "...How'd they do?"

"I don't know, exactly. I think the last couple did, like, a billion worldwide or something."

Asher stares at you for a long, long moment. ".....Goddammit."

Aww, poor dad. Wait, don't call him that. Er, don't think him that? Jesus Ash you aren't allowed to be the confused one right now.

"I'm a bit surprised Mom let you go back to big studio movies, honestly." You wince, hearing your own slip-up as it tumbles out of you but unable to do anything to stop it. You'd wanted to build up to this particular topic, but now Asher is looking at you funny. No other options now. "Uh, yeah. I'm...Mallory's daughter." He's still staring at you. "Mallory Price?"

"Who?"

Oh. Oh...wow. He doesn't know who your mom is? Clearly all that time in the Ardor did mess up his memory. "Your wife?"

"My what?" The man squints at you in a new light. "Wait, my wife and your...are you trying to say I'm your--"

You quickly wave your hands between the two of you. "Let's just pause that thought for right now, okay? Here, new question: What was the last movie you finished?"

Asher's clearly still unnerved, but he hesitantly answers nevertheless. "Doc Dangerous Five. It had released just before...well, before whatever happened, happened."

"Wrong. You were only in three Doc Dangerous movies. They did reboot it with Jake Gyllenhaal like ten years ago, though; it's all dark and shit now."

All of this seems to be getting to Asher. "What? No, I remember making that movie. Val Kilmer threw a dog at me. He wouldn't stop doing improv. You don't forget something like that."

You know exactly what's going on here, and it's gonna make everything so fucking complicated. "No, you're right; I'm sorry. You remember shooting a Doc Dangerous because you did. I'm not trying to, like, gaslight you or anything here. But even though you did make that movie, you also totally didn't."

Asher takes a moment to rub at his eyes again. "Okay. I'm going to need you to explain that to me, um..." He shifts his hands away, glancing at you. "What did you say your name was?"

"It's Ashley. Ash."

"Ash? As in, you're named after--"

"I told you, we're pausing that thought. Okay?" When he nods, you continue on. "Okay. Right. Fuck. Well first off, let's just reiterate something really quick."--You point over towards the line of elves in front of the Orange Julius--"Magic. Right?"

Asher slowly nods. "Right. Magic exists. Foundation established."

"Good. When you had your accident, you fell from our world into this world. Magic, which again totally exists, doesn't pass particularly well between here and there. Okay? Well, while you've been stuck here, some straight up magical nonsense has been going on back home. Long story short, history's been shifted around a bit. Once or twice."

"History's been changed? I mean I know, 'Magic Exists', but it can change history?!"

"Oh yeah. It's stupid easy. It's scary how easy it is to change history. Magic is super irresponsible."

"Uh, clearly."

"What I'm trying to say is, your reality changed while you weren't there to change with it. So you still remember Val Kilmer throwing a dog at you, and that's because he did? But I'm being exactly as honest when I tell you he didn't do that, because you weren't shooting that movie. You were shooting Pact of the Unhallowed with my mom. Er, with Mallory Price. But I guess you're still out of sync with the current version of reality."

Asher sinks back further onto the bench, doing his best to take it all in. "I just...I told you, I don't know who that is. She's an actress? Why haven't I ever heard of her?"

Okay, he doesn't need to know all of the details here. "She wasn't in the industry before reality was shifted. Do you want to see a picture?" He nods, and you pull out your phone. "Are we thinking a poster, or a personal photo?"

"Um, whichever's fine...is that a phone?"

"Oh, dude, yeah. After we get through all this magic talk, we have to do an entirely separate talk about how technology and stuff has changed. Short version: it's awesome and also super scary. So basically the same as the magic talk." You flip through a few photos, eventually selecting a picture of her on the red carpet from a few years back. "Here. Mallory Price."

Asher gingerly takes the phone from you, not entirely sure of how he should be holding it. He forgets all about that, however, the instant he lays eyes on the picture. "Jesus Christ!"

"Yeah, I think EW used that as the caption for this one, too."

Not that you blame them, or Asher. You've said it before and it gets truer every time: Mallory Price is the hottest woman in the world. And in a sleek white keyhole gown, her ebony hair cascading down around the most tastefully unfair display of cleavage mankind has ever seen? There's not a soul alive who'd dare disagree.

For his part, Asher's had the good manners to not roll his tongue out of his mouth like a cartoon wolf. "I, um...wow. Wow. She's definitely your mother, that's for sure." Even through his stupor, he immediately regrets his choice of words. "Which...is a creepy thing to say. Sorry."

"It's cool." That's actually something else that hasn't escaped you. Not for one moment have you gotten the impression that Asher was even so much as considering eyeing you up. And by now, you've practically got a sixth sense for dude's eyes on your tits. You wouldn't have blamed him, but...well, honestly, you definitely would have blamed him. It's both a relief and rather interesting that he's been so respectful of that kind of thing. Does that mean he does know you're his daughter, on some instinctive level?

You hold onto that thought as he passes your phone back. "She's so...look. I'm sure she's a wonderful woman. But I just don't know her. I'm sorry."

There's only one way forward, it's clear to you now. "I understand. And I know that this is far too much to expect anyone to handle, especially after coming out of what you've been through. You can't change what's happened to you, but you do get to decide how you move forward."

"How?"

"You're going to have to make a choice."