Ashley Price, Ordering the Others

Rhys cautiously pokes the ominously human-shaped husk stuck to the back of the shed, unable to hide his look of distaste. "This isn't from our side, is it?"

Donna shakes her head as she gingerly shifts what withered bits remain of the four drones around with her shoe. "No, no way. Definitely not. Not native, either. You smell that, right?"

The prince nods cautiously. Actually, didn't Jessie say something about the not-coach smelling bad? Isabelle sniffs at the air, still sweaty in her workout crop top from the cheerleading practice. "I thought that was just stinky equipment or something. You're saying it's not?"

The queen shakes her head, pulling a face as she accidentally steps on a crumbled chunk of drone. "Uh-uh. You're getting what, sort of a basic gross smell?"

Jenny nods, having long since pinched her nose shut. "That's an understatement. It's like moldy trash or something."

"Right, makes sense." She does her best to scrape the bits of smooshed BTK off her shoe and onto the concrete. "That's the smell of the world rotting."

Well that gets your attention. "Uh, what?"

"Yeah, it's the fabric of your world breaking down. But, like, only a teeny tiny bit." Donna has apparently declared the shoe a lost cause, pulling it off her foot entirely. "A normal person wouldn't even smell it; they'd just, like, sort of sense that something wrong was going on around here and avoid it." She tosses the soiled Converse at the trash can, huffing when she whiffs the shot. "You guys have magic, though. So, you can actually experience the phenomenon with your waking senses. Hooray for you!"

Rhys seems sympathetic. "Definitely a mixed blessing, right?"

Hearing about how you're special is always fun, but it's so not the point right now. "That's great and all, but maybe you could explain what you mean by reality rotting?"

"Oh, it's actually pretty easy! You remember when I explained how our worlds work, right?" Donna pops her fists up, slowly spinning them around one another in an approximation of the Human world and the Elven world. "Well there's other stuff out there too. Rhys, help me out with this." Her brother adds his fists to the mix, four hand-realms now twisting around one another.

Isabelle considers that. "So...these things are from another world out there?"

"No no, probably not. See, our worlds are really close to each other? But all the other ones are actually pretty far away." Rhys immediately pulls his fists back, waggling them further away from Donna's. "Uh, metaphorically speaking. Things like 'distance' and 'space' don't actually mean anything in this scenario. The point is that our ancestors and yours were pretty sure our worlds can only cross over with each other, and all the others are just sort of out there minding their own business."

"Okay..." Isabelle furrows her brow, working through Donna's explanation. "But you said these things aren't from your world or ours? What else is left?"

"Oh, lots!" Donna signals Rhys with her eyebrows, and he begins to indicate the space between and around Donna's fists. "There's all this stuff; the stuff that's not our world or your world or any world. All of the nasty, weirdo stuff that exists in the gaps between the various existences."

Rhys nods. "There's actually way more not-reality out there than reality. And it's definitely not empty."

"Messed up, right? So anyway, stuff from out there isn't meant to get into a physical world, but it happens sometimes. And when it does, the Outside and the Inside basically dissolve one another. That smell is sort of, like, a side effect of what's basically a supernatural chemical reaction."

Rhys clearly spots the way your faces drop at the mention of your existence 'dissolving'. "It's actually way worse for them than it is for us. There's so much reality here compared to them; the world only gets a little singed but the process obliterates them almost immediately."

You suppose that sounds a little better, but you're not fully convinced. "If that's true, how were these things out here walking around? They didn't seem particularly worried about getting 'obliterated' before we found them."

The queen doesn't have a ready answer for that, but Jenny does."Well...what if we're wrong about who, exactly, the 'They' here is?" You tilt your head questioningly at your friend as she carries on. "Remember what happened when I busted them open?"

There's zero chance you'd ever forget those swarms of tiny, screaming insect-like blobs, bursting out of the shattered drones like the world's worst piñata. "Those bug things, you mean? They did explode as soon as the bodies were broken."

"Ooh, that's definitely it then!" Donna gives Jenny a congratulatory slap on the back. "Jenny, you're so smart! Isn't she great, Rhys? Tell Jenny how great she is."

The prince is clearly baffled by this turn of events, but still manages to offer Jenny a thumbs up that she accepts with an amused snicker. Isabelle, however, is still just as unnerved by all this as you are. "Wait wait wait. So you're trying to say that this,"--she indicates the husk stuck to the wall--"Is what, exactly? Some sort of magical space suit? That lets demon bugs infiltrate our world?"

"Yep!" Donna reconsiders her peppy tone. "I mean, yes."

Isabelle can only shake her head. "Is magic usually this disgusting?"

"Oh no way. Your rivals are just the worst."

You said it, Donna. You said it.

Obviously, all of this is quite a lot to think about. So much so that it isn't until you're all headed to the parking lot that you notice the look Isabelle's shooting you. You very nearly ask 'What's wrong?', then quickly realize that would be the stupidest response possible. Besides, you've got a pretty good idea of what's upset her. "So, um, I'm sorry that Jenny and I ran off to investigate without finding you first."

That seems to mollify Isabelle somewhat, though it doesn't fully erase her frown. "I mean, I get that time was a factor. At least this time you didn't try to do it all by yourself. Just...please be more cautious, okay? That goes for you too, Jenny."

Jenny seems as if she has a quip teed up for that, but pauses when someone's phone rings. All of you stand in silence as it trills a few more times, Jenny eventually offering you a quirk of her eyebrow. "Are you going to answer that?"

"Huh? That's not my ringtone, though."

"Isn't it coming from your bag?"

You...uh, you guess it is, isn't it? You curiously rifle through your things, soon pulling out a phone that is definitely not yours, but still very familiar. You hold it up, the device still merrily ringing away. "Gal's phone. From before. Should I...?"

"Cautious, remember? Here." Isabelle takes the phone from you, putting it carefully down on a nearby bench. "Can you ward the table? We'll put it on speaker."

Oh, you're sort of setting up a little explosives handling zone. Isabelle is the goddamn best. A moment later the phone is bathed in the bench's softly powerful glow, still buzzing insistently. That should do it. Once Isabelle seems satisfied, you reach down and carefully open the call. For a long moment, the other end is silent. Then, a little laugh you're not even slightly surprised to hear sounds out. "What, you won't even say 'Hello'? That hurts, Ashley."

"'Hello, Aisha'. How's that."

"Ooo, good girl! Hey, want to meet up? You want to meet up. How does coffee sound? Not at the Press Room; that place is balls."

Jenny shakes her head in disbelief, and you're absolutely there too. She wants to meet up? "Aisha, it's honestly insulting that you think I'm this stupid."

"Aw, Ashley. I know you aren't stupid. Hey, how about this? Official truce. No attacks, no maneuvers. The rest of today. We get coffee, we chat, you go off and enjoy your evening. That sounds nice, right?"

Uh, well, yes. It does. You're obviously still suspicious, though. "A truce, huh? For just you and me? Meaning what, your friends get to keep running around doing their bullshit while you keep me distracted?"

"See? Didn't I say you weren't stupid? I'm offering a full one day ceasefire. Both sides, all parties. It's a seriously a great deal; I might start reconsidering that whole 'smart' thing if you turn this one down."

The pulse of the offered contract thrums off of the phone; Aisha's offer is definitely legit. You catch Isabelle's eye, your girlfriend chewing her bottom lip in worried thought. At length, she offers a nod. Well, looks like we're doing this. "Okay, deal."

The sound of faint applause echoes out from the phone as you feel the binding truce solidify. "Fantastic. The Mocha Bean, then. And could you wear something tight for me this time? Be a lamb, Ashley."

Isabelle huffs in pure annoyance, snatching up the phone to speak directly into the receiver. "We'll be there!" Then she slams the call off, flips the phone to Jenny and stomps towards her car. Woof. This is going to be a very intense cup of coffee.

If Aisha is put out by the fact that what she clearly intended to be a one-on-one coffee date turned into a coffee menage-a-trois, she doesn't show it. The dusky girl seems completely at peace as she lightly blows on her drink, looking like some sort of punk goddess with her inky black hair in pigtails and pin-strewn denim jacket. Frankly she's the only one who looks relaxed at all; Isabelle has your hand clenched so tightly in hers that your fingers might pop off at any moment. Jenny and Rhys, from their watchful position at a nearby table, don't look any less at ease. Donna has a serious expression as well, but the fact that she's also halfway through a snickerdoodle tempers the effect somewhat.

For a while, you simply sit in silence, the soft murmurs of the busy coffee shop rolling over you as Aisha placidly sips from her cup. Eventually, it's more than Isabelle can take. "What do you want?"

Aisha shrugs breezily, unhurriedly finishing her sip before responding. "Nothing, really. Just for us to understand one another."

Isabelle scoffs at that, leaning forward. "You're trying to destroy us. What more is there to understand?"

At that, Aisha frowns in what might be actual regret. "That whole business with the bomb was a mistake. I mean, it was Nell's idea, and I knew it wouldn't work, but still. 'I'm sorry' is maybe the most worthless phrase ever created? But for what it's worth, I know I shouldn't have indulged her. Destroying isn't really my thing."

You certainly weren't expecting that. But while Aisha's surprising almost apology has thrown you for a loop, Isabelle is clearly not so easily swayed. "So what, you regret one of the times you tried to hurt us, and our loved ones? I guess you'll 'regret' all the times to come, too?"

"Oh, no. Well, I mean, I would. But there aren't going to be any other times, so I won't."

This time the both of you boggle at Aisha's claim, the girl helping herself to another long sip of coffee. What is she saying, exactly? Guess there is only one way to find out. "Are you trying to tell us that you aren't going to attack us?"

"Correct."

"Why should we believe you?"

"I guess you shouldn't! Maybe it's a trick! OOooooooo~!" Aisha waggles her fingers spookily at the both of you. Goddamn it Ash, do not find that cute. "Seriously though. You don't have to worry about me bursting through your window in the middle of the night. I just figured you would want to know."

"Well, what about the others?"

"Who, Nell? You definitely still need to be worried about her. She only understands fight or flight, and now that 'Flight' is off the table she's going to try to chew your throats out."

Charming. "And Beatrix?"

Aisha starts at you blankly for a moment, then snickers in dark amusement. "Oh right, 'Beatrix Étienne', Her Most Terrifying and Dreadful. Honestly, I haven't known her that long. She only joined with the Mistress, like, a month ago. Not that that ever kept the snotty tyrant from acting like she's a direct Salem legacy or something. Goddamn fake." Aisha takes a moment to finish off her coffee. "Still though. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that she's dangerous."

Honestly, of all the ways you'd imagined this going, this wasn't close to any of them. Even Isabelle seems slightly put at ease. "So you're...what, exactly? Bowing out of the war? Is there some sort of official ceremony we need to do for that?"

At that, Aisha cocks an eyebrow. "What? No. I'm going to win the war. I've already won the war."

"Didn't you just say you aren't going to attack us?"

The devilishly beguiling girl props her elbows up on the table, lacing her fingers together to rest her chin on them. "Yes, but what does that have to do with me winning? I don't need to attack you for that."

"How, then?"

"I guess you must not have been listening, because I've already told you a bunch of times. I'm going to win because I get it. I. Always. Get it." Aisha leans back in her chair, spreading her arms out grandly. "Here's the facts: my more active webs and enchantments can slip loose, or be snapped? By the way, thanks a lot for that, Jenny; if it wasn't for you, Ashley would've already been up to her eyelids in my box by now."

Aisha doesn't bother dodging the stevia packet Jenny chucks at her as Isabelle's grip tightens again around your poor fingers. "Get to the point, you revolting monster."

Clucking her tongue at the increasingly incensed Isabelle, Aisha helps herself to a long eyeful of your girlfriend. "Eh. You're nice and all, but really not my type. Once this is all over, Ashley can still keep you as a pet? But don't expect to be sleeping anywhere past the foot of the bed."

"Fuck you, Aisha."

"No thank you, Isabelle. As I was saying. Even if you can break my spells, if you spend enough time around me? It doesn't matter. Eventually you will be mine. It always happens. And you've already been in my presence for more than enough for the effect to sink in, even before this lovely little date. It won't take much more. Sorry, I don't make the rules, I just massively benefit from them."

Isabelle sneers in disgust at Aisha. "Oh, really? So what, we don't meet with you anymore and your 'master plan' is ruined?"

"You won't be able to resist. It only took, what, five second for me to get you to agree to meet me today? It'll be even easier next time."

Uh, you're a little worried that she has a point. Isabelle, however, may as well be made of stone."I don't believe that you're that powerful for a second."

Aisha shrugs. "You're right. I would have to be pretty powerful for something like that. Powerful enough to, I don't know, enthrall every single person in this coffee shop or something."

It's then that you realize all of the background noise and gentle clamor of the store has given way to a cold, tense silence. A dreadful tingling runs down your spine as you carefully glance to one side, confirming that every last person in the Mocha Bean has stopped dead in their tracks and begun to stare at your table. Or, to be accurate, at Aisha, each and every one with the same look of unthinking adoration plastered across their faces.

Donna awkwardly clears her throat, timorously calling out to the bewitched barista. "Um, I think I'll cancel that last cookie order."

Aisha coolly accepts a fresh cup of coffee, delivered to her without prompting by a docile waitress. "You see? This war can go two ways, but there's really only one outcome. If my side wins, I win. And if you win, I also win." She takes a thoughtful sip, considering that. "I guess you could also destroy each other, but that seems like the least fun. So don't do that, okay? Now. It's probably time for you all to leave, right?" She leans forward at that, her smile curling in dark, Cheshire-like amusement. "Unless you're ready to admit you can't bear to be without me. In that case, I'm ready to accept your devotion. I'm always ready, Ashley."

Isabelle bursts from her chair with so much **** that her chair tumbles to the ground, hand still tightly entwined with yours as she marches both of you out of the coffee shop. You would have never thought that anything could outdo Beatrix and her husk-hives filled with demonic gnats, but honestly? Aisha might have just taken the top spot.

Jesus. Gal is maybe the least upsetting of the Others. What a sobering thought.