Asher Sellinite

Jade Ribbon pt 1

 Estella has settled in surprisingly well in the last week or so, so much so that she's already talking about going back to those weird vampire taverns. She's mentioned this to Marcus and Asher a few times already and they've been... less than enthusiastic about the idea- I think that's why Estella has spent the better part of three days just detailing stories and adventures that she's had with said vampire gang. And mostly to me.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just that person that people think is so non-judgemental that they can convince me to do anything and tell me about all their dirty little secrets and notions. I, personally, don't see myself that way, I will rat someone out if I think it's a bad idea, especially if it's a dangerous bad idea. I've told Asher several times that I don't think we should be letting Estella out and that she needs to be a "house human", for lack of a better term, but he's just insistent that it's not that big of a deal, and that Courtney will be back any day now. Even if Estella's freedom makes Marcus and I extremely jealous... I'm sure you can tell that there's gonna be a problem here.

I can hear Marcus arguing with Estella all the way from my room upstairs, I can't really pick out the words, but I can tell that Marcus is just a little more passionate about things than usual... if that's even possible. I hear heavy footsteps up the stairs and a door slamming. I'm not surprised in the slightest, I'd be more concerned if an argument between those two didn't end in Marcus slamming some sort of door.

After a good minute of finishing up my drawings, I decide to go downstairs and see what sort of state Estella is in. I'm not sure when I decided that I care so much, but I did at some point. I reach the living room and give it a once-over, nothing's really out place here... but then I spot Estella in the kitchen packing up almost three days worth of soup into a worn-out backpack.

"Uhm... what are you doing with that...?" I ask quietly as I lean against the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Her eyes flicker from me to the backpack before she continues stuffing more food and supplies into the bag,

"I can't live here anymore. I mean," she sighs deeply and gives me a kinda, 'it's obvious' expression, "Marcus doesn't really want me here, does he?" I feel like rolling my eyes at this, but I hold back. I really can't blame her for not being able to see through Marcus' 'stern father figure' facade he's got going on towards her... and me to some extent. I uncross my arms and walk up beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder as I look over her overstuffed bag,

"And what's all that for?" I give a slight chuckle, mostly out of awkwardness, "preparing for the apocalypse?" The joke doesn't land and she just zips up the bag, hoisting it over her shoulder as she brushes past me, "wait, where are you going?" I ask, trying to be gentle but I know it comes off a little desperate, maybe concerned.

"None of your business," she says curtly, only giving me a slight pause before she takes a brisk few steps towards the hallway, my hand reaching for her arm. I say her name like people do when they're pleading for information, and it seems to do the trick, begrudgingly, "fine," she says with an annoyed sigh, "I'm going back to the Jade Ribbon gang, I'm done with Marcus' shit, Teddy. I can't do this anymore," her voice almost sounds somber, I can tell that this decision, although rash, isn't taken lightly.

"Woah, woah- what happened?" I ask gently, turning her by the shoulders to face me, glancing over her tear-streaked face, my voice softening even further at the sight, "what did he do...?"

"He," she sniffles, wiping her eyes and avoids my gaze, "he told me that if I would've just came over here that I... I wouldn't have been," her voice lowers to a whisper, "raped."

Oh shit. I don't know what else to do in this moment other than pull her into a tight hug, trying to soothe her as she cries into my embrace. I honestly can't believe that Marcus would say something so insensitive... then again, his temper is... his, so I guess I should've lowered my expectations. I mean, I would never even come close to implying that someone would have any sort of responsibility for their own assault, especially when they're obviously still processing it and very vulnerable from the whole ordeal... at least that's how I started operating after this situation. You never really know how to cope with someone so close to you having such an intense trauma until it actually happens.