Ship: bold of you to assume I know (Sasha & Not!Sasha & Melanie, the Magnus Archives)
Notes: This may not be in character but unfortunately I am really starting to enjoy writing notSasha. She is so fun and evil. This is sort of a sequel to this fic
“Sasha James” smiled to herself as she watched the One Who Saw storm out of the office.
It had gone badly, then. Well of course it had — “Sasha” rather prided herself on the illusions she could play on human minds. They were always so eager to turn on each other, given just a little push. It was easier than air to make them recategorize their friends into enemies and loved ones into strangers. What were any of them but masks, anyway? What did they even have that they could call their own?
Far less than they thought, usually. And ripping off the last of their selves was always so satisfying.
“Melanie!” Sasha was still screaming beside her. ”Melanie! I’m right here! Look at me! Can’t you see—“
Melanie whipped around then, and Sasha froze. “Sasha” kept typing away, despite the plain black computer screen before her. Appearances were important in her time trapped here.
“You,” Melanie said.
She wasn’t looking in Sasha’s direction. She had locked eyes with “Sasha” instead.
“Sasha” let herself savor the little groan of despair Sasha let out beside her before she stopped typing. She closed and opened her eyes rapidly. “Is something wrong? I can show you the exit if you’d like.”
“Was there — someone else before you?” Melanie tapped her foot against the ground. Jittering. The Tim human was looking in their direction but not interfering for now; good. “Someone also called Sasha.”
Sasha, beside her: “l’m right here. I’m right…”
“I don’t think so,” “Sasha” said blandly over her. She vibrated her vocal cords in a casual laugh. “You’d think they’d tell me if they did!”
“Right.” Melanie’s eyes narrowed. There was fear expressed in her facial muscles, yes, but more than that — determination. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. It was something she shared with the Eye’s human, “Sasha” noted with vague disgust.
“Well if that’s all—“
“No, hang on,” Melanie said, leaning forward. “Would you happen to know anything about pubs?”
“I know they exist,” “Sasha” said, bemused. She had never been the type of monster to make people run away screaming, but the spark of fear in Melanie’s eyes was a little too dim for her liking. “Is something wrong, Miss King? Did you perhaps have a little too much to drink?”
“No!” Melanie’s voice rose. “I’m, I’m talking about ghosts. About pubs. That are haunted.”
“You remembered,” Sasha whispered. “Sasha” thankfully managed to stop herself from looking over at her; nevertheless the joy in her voice was clear. “It’s been months…”
“I see,” “Sasha” said, carefully projecting an air of accidental condescension. “Ghosts. Alcohol. Hallucinations are a serious matter, you know.”
”You’re being an asshole!” Melanie slammed her hands on Sasha’s desk. “I’m not hallucinating! I know you’re different! So if this is some, some kind of sick prank, I’ll tell… I’ll…”
She trailed off then. Sasha had drifted behind Melanie to brush a hand over her shoulders, features distorted in sorrow. Melanie didn’t turn in her direction.
“You don’t have anyone, do you,” Sasha said to her unhearing audience. Genuine concern. “Oh, Melanie.”
This tableau was objectively hilarious, “Sasha” thought. Shame she didn’t have anyone to watch it with. If the delivery drivers were here she could probably have a good laugh with them — most annoying corpse-in-the-making failing to comfort the only human who could see she was gone. Sitcom material.
But she didn’t feel like laughing. She felt… angry?
Huh?
It was Sasha again, “Sasha” thought to herself. She’d just gotten too used to seeing the human cycle through Pain and Fear and Temporary Amusement At Doppelgänger’s Expense and More Pain that watching her interact with any other human was jarring. Most of her victims passed out and unraveled long before they met the One Who Saw Them.
She was just annoyed, again, at how Sasha was still sticking around. Cockroach. That was all.
This was the only reason she said to Melanie, “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Melanie and Sasha chorused.
“I should have taken you seriously,” “Sasha” said, widening her eyes slightly to make her look more sincere. “You’ve clearly had a long day. What was it about haunted pubs?”
Sasha was giving her a blatantly suspicious look. Melanie, on the other hand, sagged a little.
“I’m sorry too,” she muttered. “I’ve just been so angry lately and — look, forget it. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” “Sasha” said. “I want to help. Tell you what, I can take you to a nearby pub later if you want. It will be a treat from me.”
Sasha’s look changed into the “no one conjugates that sentence that way” look. At least she’d stopped looking at Melanie.
“Are you serious?” Melanie asked.
“Of course.” And — she’d have to tell “Tom” to call the scheme off, ugh, but Melanie seemed more fun to mess with anyway — “It can be a date. If you like.”
“O-oh. I, uh. Right. You mean the platonic meaning of date.”
“If you like,” “Sasha” repeated, and let the smirk settle into her muscles.
Sasha, it appeared, had finally caught on. “No — no, Melanie, don’t —“
“Right, well,” Melanie said very fast. She looked more uncomfortable than anything; oh well, “Sasha” hadn’t really planned to seduce her or anything. It was just worth it for the look on the actual Sasha’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. Does Wednesday work for you?”
“Of course,” “Sasha” said again. “I look forward to it.”
“You bastard,” Sasha hissed at not-herself.
“Okay, um. See you then?” Melanie said.
“See you,” “Sasha” said, and tilted her neck when she smiled, just far enough for a few vertebrae to crack apart and reform in her spine.
Oh, there was the fear. She’d missed it.
“Okay well thanks bye,” Melanie said, and darted off quickly enough that even if Sasha hadn’t been inaudible, her scream wouldn’t have reached her in time.
“Sasha” leaned back in her chair.
“What the fuck,” Sasha said. “What the fuck, S—no, that’s my name — what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“She seemed to like your original self,” “Sasha” commented.
“I was going to ask her out,” Sasha said. “I had her number and everything, and then you fucking killed me.”
“Well, you can experience it vicariously through me instead,” “Sasha” offered. “You’ll have to, as a matter of fact.”
“You’re going to torture her, aren’t you,” Sasha said in muted horror. “Like you’re doing to me right now. You’re — you can’t kill her.”
“Why not?”
“You can only do one person at once, can’t you? And you’ll be sad to lose me.” Sasha cracked a strange, sad smile at something “Sasha” didn’t understand. “I’m unforgettable.”
“You humans and your assumptions,” “Sasha” said, ignoring that they were all true. “You think you’re so important.”
“I am,” Sasha said. “Everyone’s important.” It had the cadence of something she’d had to tell herself in the mirror often.
“She didn’t remember you.”
Sasha hissed a breath through her teeth. “That’s not fair.”
“When we get home,” “Sasha” said, “tell me what your date outfit was going to be, alright?”
FILL: TEAM ACE ATTORNEY
Ship: bold of you to assume I know (Sasha & Not!Sasha & Melanie, the Magnus Archives)
Notes: This may not be in character but unfortunately I am really starting to enjoy writing notSasha. She is so fun and evil. This is sort of a sequel to this fic
“Sasha James” smiled to herself as she watched the One Who Saw storm out of the office.
It had gone badly, then. Well of course it had — “Sasha” rather prided herself on the illusions she could play on human minds. They were always so eager to turn on each other, given just a little push. It was easier than air to make them recategorize their friends into enemies and loved ones into strangers. What were any of them but masks, anyway? What did they even have that they could call their own?
Far less than they thought, usually. And ripping off the last of their selves was always so satisfying.
“Melanie!” Sasha was still screaming beside her. ”Melanie! I’m right here! Look at me! Can’t you see—“
Melanie whipped around then, and Sasha froze. “Sasha” kept typing away, despite the plain black computer screen before her. Appearances were important in her time trapped here.
“You,” Melanie said.
She wasn’t looking in Sasha’s direction. She had locked eyes with “Sasha” instead.
“Sasha” let herself savor the little groan of despair Sasha let out beside her before she stopped typing. She closed and opened her eyes rapidly. “Is something wrong? I can show you the exit if you’d like.”
“Was there — someone else before you?” Melanie tapped her foot against the ground. Jittering. The Tim human was looking in their direction but not interfering for now; good. “Someone also called Sasha.”
Sasha, beside her: “l’m right here. I’m right…”
“I don’t think so,” “Sasha” said blandly over her. She vibrated her vocal cords in a casual laugh. “You’d think they’d tell me if they did!”
“Right.” Melanie’s eyes narrowed. There was fear expressed in her facial muscles, yes, but more than that — determination. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. It was something she shared with the Eye’s human, “Sasha” noted with vague disgust.
“Well if that’s all—“
“No, hang on,” Melanie said, leaning forward. “Would you happen to know anything about pubs?”
“What?”
“Pubs,” Melanie said. “You know. Drinking establishments.”
“I know they exist,” “Sasha” said, bemused. She had never been the type of monster to make people run away screaming, but the spark of fear in Melanie’s eyes was a little too dim for her liking. “Is something wrong, Miss King? Did you perhaps have a little too much to drink?”
“No!” Melanie’s voice rose. “I’m, I’m talking about ghosts. About pubs. That are haunted.”
“You remembered,” Sasha whispered. “Sasha” thankfully managed to stop herself from looking over at her; nevertheless the joy in her voice was clear. “It’s been months…”
“I see,” “Sasha” said, carefully projecting an air of accidental condescension. “Ghosts. Alcohol. Hallucinations are a serious matter, you know.”
”You’re being an asshole!” Melanie slammed her hands on Sasha’s desk. “I’m not hallucinating! I know you’re different! So if this is some, some kind of sick prank, I’ll tell… I’ll…”
She trailed off then. Sasha had drifted behind Melanie to brush a hand over her shoulders, features distorted in sorrow. Melanie didn’t turn in her direction.
“You don’t have anyone, do you,” Sasha said to her unhearing audience. Genuine concern. “Oh, Melanie.”
This tableau was objectively hilarious, “Sasha” thought. Shame she didn’t have anyone to watch it with. If the delivery drivers were here she could probably have a good laugh with them — most annoying corpse-in-the-making failing to comfort the only human who could see she was gone. Sitcom material.
But she didn’t feel like laughing. She felt… angry?
Huh?
It was Sasha again, “Sasha” thought to herself. She’d just gotten too used to seeing the human cycle through Pain and Fear and Temporary Amusement At Doppelgänger’s Expense and More Pain that watching her interact with any other human was jarring. Most of her victims passed out and unraveled long before they met the One Who Saw Them.
She was just annoyed, again, at how Sasha was still sticking around. Cockroach. That was all.
This was the only reason she said to Melanie, “I’m sorry.”
“What?” Melanie and Sasha chorused.
“I should have taken you seriously,” “Sasha” said, widening her eyes slightly to make her look more sincere. “You’ve clearly had a long day. What was it about haunted pubs?”
Sasha was giving her a blatantly suspicious look. Melanie, on the other hand, sagged a little.
“I’m sorry too,” she muttered. “I’ve just been so angry lately and — look, forget it. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” “Sasha” said. “I want to help. Tell you what, I can take you to a nearby pub later if you want. It will be a treat from me.”
Sasha’s look changed into the “no one conjugates that sentence that way” look. At least she’d stopped looking at Melanie.
“Are you serious?” Melanie asked.
“Of course.” And — she’d have to tell “Tom” to call the scheme off, ugh, but Melanie seemed more fun to mess with anyway — “It can be a date. If you like.”
“O-oh. I, uh. Right. You mean the platonic meaning of date.”
“If you like,” “Sasha” repeated, and let the smirk settle into her muscles.
Sasha, it appeared, had finally caught on. “No — no, Melanie, don’t —“
“Right, well,” Melanie said very fast. She looked more uncomfortable than anything; oh well, “Sasha” hadn’t really planned to seduce her or anything. It was just worth it for the look on the actual Sasha’s face. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that. Does Wednesday work for you?”
“Of course,” “Sasha” said again. “I look forward to it.”
“You bastard,” Sasha hissed at not-herself.
“Okay, um. See you then?” Melanie said.
“See you,” “Sasha” said, and tilted her neck when she smiled, just far enough for a few vertebrae to crack apart and reform in her spine.
Oh, there was the fear. She’d missed it.
“Okay well thanks bye,” Melanie said, and darted off quickly enough that even if Sasha hadn’t been inaudible, her scream wouldn’t have reached her in time.
“Sasha” leaned back in her chair.
“What the fuck,” Sasha said. “What the fuck, S—no, that’s my name — what the fuck is wrong with you?”
“She seemed to like your original self,” “Sasha” commented.
“I was going to ask her out,” Sasha said. “I had her number and everything, and then you fucking killed me.”
“Well, you can experience it vicariously through me instead,” “Sasha” offered. “You’ll have to, as a matter of fact.”
“You’re going to torture her, aren’t you,” Sasha said in muted horror. “Like you’re doing to me right now. You’re — you can’t kill her.”
“Why not?”
“You can only do one person at once, can’t you? And you’ll be sad to lose me.” Sasha cracked a strange, sad smile at something “Sasha” didn’t understand. “I’m unforgettable.”
“You humans and your assumptions,” “Sasha” said, ignoring that they were all true. “You think you’re so important.”
“I am,” Sasha said. “Everyone’s important.” It had the cadence of something she’d had to tell herself in the mirror often.
“She didn’t remember you.”
Sasha hissed a breath through her teeth. “That’s not fair.”
“When we get home,” “Sasha” said, “tell me what your date outfit was going to be, alright?”