{CURRENTLY EDITING/SLIGHT REWRITE.}
Ainsley Ashter was a freak-show. A psychopath. An absolute and utter maniac.... Or so they thought.
She was imprisoned at the age of thirteen when she murdered her parents using nothing but the metal leg of her b...
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THE TRIO MADE A NAME FOR THEMSELVES. Thieving across the country in an effort to collect the things needed for their own survival, and boy does Ainsley feel like she's thriving. It fuels her desire for chaos. It keeps her tethered to a reality which she can control. Neither Emori nor John ever tried to tame her psychopathy; however, Ainsley's been toying with the word sociopath instead, but that's besides the point. Being around them kept her calm. They keep the voices at bay, no matter how much she's tried to rid herself of them, they haunt her. The horrors she's faced both in lockup in the sky, and on the ground would never leave her.
Even if she wished they would.
Ainsley smirks as she waits with Emori for the man wheeling a wheelbarrow to stop in front of a ‘seemingly’ dead, half naked and bloodied, John. The man pauses. He flips John over onto his back, but John stays lifeless. Ainsley watches the man shrug, before taking off John's shoes to steal them.
“Ai laik dulasei hef, you, ba taim yu strechplei ste odon, taim ai na gada yu stepa in,” the grounder says in trigedasleng, Ainsley only knowing very little what he's actually saying. | “I'm an honest man, but if you're done walking I'll have your shoes.” |
Ainsley sneaks up on him and places a knife to his throat, smiling creepily from ear to ear as Emori pops up beside her with her own growing grin.
“Ai lukot na kep em stepa in, mochof. Ba taim yu nou kok au, taim osir na teik yu kep yun in,” Emori threatens. | “My friend will keep his shoes, thank you. But if you don't resist, we'll allow you to keep yours.” |
“I only have half an idea of what she said, but uh yup, pretty much it. Touch him and I'll kill you.”
John sighs and stands up, facing the two girls. “Took you two long enough.”
The male grounder hisses something else at them, but Ainsley ignores him. She hits him in the head over and over again with the butt of her knife until she successfully knocks him out.
“Woah, hey, hey, psycho killer,” Murphy says, smirking a little. “Come back to me, alright? Let him go. He's knocked out.”
Her eyes snap towards him at the sound of his voice, slowly stepping away from the knocked out grounder.
What'd he say, anyway?” Ainsley asks, devoid of empathy, clearing her throat. There isn't any issue, according to her, for what she'd done.
