→ [Fic] Black Ice 1.0
Black Ice
-1-
She rolled over onto her side. A hand slid across the soft sheets, nestled in the crook between her hip and her ribcage, and grasped. It was like a subconscious hold, like she was reminding herself of exactly how she felt. Normally it helped. Normally it worked. This time it was just obnoxious as hell and it wasn’t the way her palm molded so perfectly against her. It was the throbbing pain in her head.
How much did she have to drink the night before? Four or five at least. Maybe six. She lost count after three. Everything went blurry after three. It was rum or vodka. She didn’t even know what that was. Pointless words in her head. Pointless words that she knew she’d heard before.
Ashelin forced her eyes open, reluctant to even shift from her position. As long as she was hurting, she didn’t want to make the effort to move. She just wanted to lay there. Lay there and die, maybe. Lay there and wait for it all to melt away. A few moments passed and abyss pulled on her eyelids.
Gonna… go back to sleep.
“Yeah,” she muttered to herself. “Not getting up yet.”
Thirty seconds went by in complete silence. They were the best thirty seconds she remembered having for some time. Then stomped footsteps in the distance stopped at her door, it opened with a creak, and she wondered when she didn’t lock her door or why someone had a copy of her keycard. What in the name of the Precursors was a keycard? Why did she have one? A security pass? Not to her room. The security pass was like the one to the bazaar that she gave to Jak.
Oh, fuck. Jak. He was probably causing trouble. Somewhere while they were on the ocean headed to that horizon and that stupid strip of beach that the crew called that Golden Shore or what the fuck ever.
What? No, really. What??
“Ashelin.”
Not a stir. Not a sound. Not an acknowledgment. It was just pure ignorance.
“Ashelin.”
Eyelids lifted in small slits and the green of her eyes scrambled to the corners. The voice was gruff. The face was stern. He looked pissed.
“……” Father. Baron. The Baron. But… “What? What is it? What’s going on?” The pounding in her head grew as she pushed herself up, draped her legs over the edge of her bed. This just became a nightmare. The pain was bad enough. Seeing her father made it worse. Letting him see her made it worse.
“Ashelin,” he began in that strange condescending voice. “You’d be so much more useful if you actually did your job.”
She gritted her teeth. Same old man. Same idiot man. Still treated her like she was an idiot. Still her father, though. It demanded some kind of respect, even if she didn’t want to hand it over. Ashelin was less inclined to give it, knowing what he’d tried to do to Jak, what he’d succeeded in doing to Jak. She’d almost gotten him in it too, almost told the whole damn boat. He stopped her, tried to convince her otherwise.
When pain reached her brain again, it wasn’t the migraine or the hangover she suffered from. It was her teeth puncturing her lip, threatening to break through the tender skin. She was resting on a snarl, knew it would never come, felt that there was something very wrong about the situation.
“A soldier remembers her place as it was earned, not given to her by Daddy.”
His lips curled up into a sneer and he turned, “Got a job for you. If you can’t do it, I can give it to Erol. I know he’s just so dependable.” That was it. The door closed without a slam, but it might as well have been one.
Ashelin growled to herself. What… what was all of this? How had he come back? Was it all some stupid lie? They didn’t die when they left the ship? Something was so off. Something was so wrong. This was all wrong.
Got to get out of here. Got to find a way out now. Got to escape.
There was no escape, though. This was fucking Haven.
Forward →
-1-
She rolled over onto her side. A hand slid across the soft sheets, nestled in the crook between her hip and her ribcage, and grasped. It was like a subconscious hold, like she was reminding herself of exactly how she felt. Normally it helped. Normally it worked. This time it was just obnoxious as hell and it wasn’t the way her palm molded so perfectly against her. It was the throbbing pain in her head.
How much did she have to drink the night before? Four or five at least. Maybe six. She lost count after three. Everything went blurry after three. It was rum or vodka. She didn’t even know what that was. Pointless words in her head. Pointless words that she knew she’d heard before.
Ashelin forced her eyes open, reluctant to even shift from her position. As long as she was hurting, she didn’t want to make the effort to move. She just wanted to lay there. Lay there and die, maybe. Lay there and wait for it all to melt away. A few moments passed and abyss pulled on her eyelids.
Gonna… go back to sleep.
“Yeah,” she muttered to herself. “Not getting up yet.”
Thirty seconds went by in complete silence. They were the best thirty seconds she remembered having for some time. Then stomped footsteps in the distance stopped at her door, it opened with a creak, and she wondered when she didn’t lock her door or why someone had a copy of her keycard. What in the name of the Precursors was a keycard? Why did she have one? A security pass? Not to her room. The security pass was like the one to the bazaar that she gave to Jak.
Oh, fuck. Jak. He was probably causing trouble. Somewhere while they were on the ocean headed to that horizon and that stupid strip of beach that the crew called that Golden Shore or what the fuck ever.
What? No, really. What??
“Ashelin.”
Not a stir. Not a sound. Not an acknowledgment. It was just pure ignorance.
“Ashelin.”
Eyelids lifted in small slits and the green of her eyes scrambled to the corners. The voice was gruff. The face was stern. He looked pissed.
“……” Father. Baron. The Baron. But… “What? What is it? What’s going on?” The pounding in her head grew as she pushed herself up, draped her legs over the edge of her bed. This just became a nightmare. The pain was bad enough. Seeing her father made it worse. Letting him see her made it worse.
“Ashelin,” he began in that strange condescending voice. “You’d be so much more useful if you actually did your job.”
She gritted her teeth. Same old man. Same idiot man. Still treated her like she was an idiot. Still her father, though. It demanded some kind of respect, even if she didn’t want to hand it over. Ashelin was less inclined to give it, knowing what he’d tried to do to Jak, what he’d succeeded in doing to Jak. She’d almost gotten him in it too, almost told the whole damn boat. He stopped her, tried to convince her otherwise.
When pain reached her brain again, it wasn’t the migraine or the hangover she suffered from. It was her teeth puncturing her lip, threatening to break through the tender skin. She was resting on a snarl, knew it would never come, felt that there was something very wrong about the situation.
“A soldier remembers her place as it was earned, not given to her by Daddy.”
His lips curled up into a sneer and he turned, “Got a job for you. If you can’t do it, I can give it to Erol. I know he’s just so dependable.” That was it. The door closed without a slam, but it might as well have been one.
Ashelin growled to herself. What… what was all of this? How had he come back? Was it all some stupid lie? They didn’t die when they left the ship? Something was so off. Something was so wrong. This was all wrong.
Got to get out of here. Got to find a way out now. Got to escape.
There was no escape, though. This was fucking Haven.
Forward →