#zasher

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Era: post-Rick’s “death”, pre-Whisperers Emotion: desire Random word: learning Requested by: @zasher

He hadn’t even seen you yet, but he knew the cadence of your footsteps. “Ya shouldn’ta come out here,” he drawled. You stopped for a moment and sighed. “Yes. I should,” you said. He heard your steps approaching again and in a moment you were standing in front of him, a bag of gear slung over one shoulder and your quiver on the other, bow in hand.  “Ya dun need anymore lessons,” he said, gravel heavy in his voice from disuse. You let out a wry laugh. “Daryl. I never needed lessons.” He looked up at you, a slight veil of confusion in his blue eyes. You dropped your bag and nocked an arrow on your bow, aiming for a can hanging from a bit of rope on one of Daryl’s noise alarms. It struck with a hearty plunk. You nocked another arrow and aimed at a squirrel pelt stretched on a nearby tree. The arrow found the center of it with a whoosh and a thud. One last shot landed an arrowhead straight into a glass jar perched on top of a nearby stump, shattering the glass. You turned back to Daryl with one eyebrow raised. He stared back. “I was gonna use that jar,” he drawled. You sighed and shot him an unamused look. “I come out here to be with you. Because you’re too damn stubborn to come back, even for a few days. And... I miss you,” you said. “And I needed an excuse.” Daryl shifted a little on the round of wood he was sitting on. When he next glanced up at you his expression had softened. The man was too proud to say it, but he was always so grateful when you came around. It lifted the dark cloud he felt was hanging over him. You were a ray of sunshine he didn’t think he deserved. You gave him a half-smile. “Alright. I brought food. And you’re gonna eat it,” you said digging in your bag. “Now take those clothes off—” you said, distracted. “W—What?”  You glanced up at him, confused by his anxious tone. “I brought you some clean clothes,” you said, confused still, unaware of what you’d said and what it’d done to him. “Oh. Right... right. Mhm,” he hummed, gulping nervously. He accepted the pile of clean clothes and disappeared into his tent, his heart still pounding. Time: 10 min

[chao-studios]

*Scratch scratch scratch* 

[asher-ward-blog]

Swaying Through The Wagon Wheel || Zasher

Three or so hours after their latest encounter, Asher figured he had given Zalia enough time alone. He was once again feeling restless and his- girlfriend? district partner? friend with awesome benefits? -Zalia... yeah, his Zalia was a much more tempting distraction than anything he would find in the training rooms. He didn't knock or ask permission to enter her room, simply twisted the knob and pushed her door open. "Zalia Foster..." he smirked, stretching out the syllables of her name so they sounded like some kind of incantation. "The prettiest girl in all of District 10. How are you?” He wondered if she would remember that this was the very first thing he'd said to her when they arrived in the Capitol. He liked to think it sounded even smoother this time but he crossed to her bed where she was lying- not sleeping, but seeming somewhat lazy -and nudged her playfully.

[zaliafoster]

|Zasher|

It was dawn when Zalia finally awoke from her groggy sleep. It was cold-- No. She was cold, but the air was warm. She shivered and opened her eyes. The lights from the ceiling above pierced her sight, and she immediately shut them again. Wincing, she tried again. She squinted against the light and sat up, only to feel the sharp pinch in her knee that came with the blood pooling. Her head throbbed with the pounding of a migraine, Zalia swallowed, only to feel the dry sand paper feeling of her tongue. She sighed quietly and looked to Asher. He was still close by her side, and fast asleep. Exhaustion was as bright as day on his face, and Zalia didn't blame him. If it were Asher who was sick, she probably would do the same. Rolling her pant leg up, she examined the bruise on her knee carefully. She hissed at the small bits of pain that rushed up her nerves like electricity. This didn't seem good. Looking down at her knee was more painful to the sight than to her. The red veins that she had seen the day before were now a deep, dark almost-black red. The point of contact was even darker. There were millions of colors, from blue to red to green to yellow, you name it. Zalia closed her eyes to keep the nausea at bay. And then she heard it. Cracking an eye open, she listened to the capital announcement and tried not to throw up on Asher's head.

“Attention, tributes: a feast will commence at the Cornucopia in one hour. Surely, each of you can think of some reason to attend. Come prepared and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

"Feast." She said weakly. Her mind automatically jumped to the medicine she so desperately needed at this point. It was life or death. All she needed was one little vile of medicine...  "Asher, are you awake?" With her good arm, Zalia reached forward and shook his arm lightly. If Asher would help Zalia to the cornucopia, she could run, inject herself, and run. Of course she could! Capitol medicine would heal her instantly. She'd be perfect again!

[zaliafoster]

Crazed and Insane [ Zasher

“Yeah, but I will kill you.” She yelled over the cannon. Walking away, she stopped once and spit on his dead corpse then started on her way to find Asher.

Zalia was gasping for air as her feet stomped on the ground pulling her further down the wide hallway of the first floor. Her adrenaline was pumping hard through the course of her veins which caused the wound in her left arm to bleed even heavier. She didn't mind though, because all she could feel was the pure anger and her vehement toward Asher. He went after Az without  talking to her first, and alone of all things. Did he want out of their alliance? Was he done using her? Shaking her head, she finally saw him standing over Az's corpse, dagger in hand, and breathing heavier than Zalia was herself. She narrowed her eyes just as they made eye contact. "Is there something you need to tell me?" She called across the space that separated them. Her adrenaline was fading, and a growing and aching pain began in her left elbow, right knee, and on her left arm. She looked down at her elbow to see a bright pink and purple streaked bruise forming where Zayne got a good hit on her. Her head was spinning from the pain, but she tried her best to ignore it. She leaned on her left leg to reduce the pain in her knee, but it was no better. Sniffing, Zalia whiped her nose with the back of her hand only to find a trace of crimson blood streaked across it. She shrugged and wiped the blood off on her pant-leg. She took slower breaths to keep from fainting. 

[zaliafoster]

Death's Pale Flag -| Zasher

It was well into the next day, and a reluctant Asher was sleeping soundly on the ground. Zalia, the supercilious girl she was, sat wide eyed at the computer screens. Bags collected under her eyes, and they were glued to the one screen. Where was she? Who was she? What floor was she on? There was the inevitable factor that the tribute who sat in the dim room mirrored on the screen, was a female. A young girl. Zalia could tell from the small frame of the girl's shoulders. She could be Callico, but Zalia knew she allied with Tony McKay. Tony wasn't anywhere to be seen. It could be Key-- No. It was not Key. Key was dead. Even though Zalia didn't know Key well, she still felt angry about her death.

Sighing, she moved her hand across the keyboard, accidentally hitting a key. A subtle beep sounded and all the screens seemed to melt together. A long code quickly typed across the screen, and they screens separated once more. The lights in the tribute's room rose from a dim light, to a harsh and burning bright white light. Now, Zalia could see the girl's face. "Asher." She stood and sent the rolling office chair back from her with such force, it crashed into the desk behind them. "Asher! You need to see this." Pointing at the screen, she jumped up and down. "It's the girl from twelve! It's the girl from twelve." A malicious grin was perched on her lips as she pulled the chair back to her and began furiously typing away once more.

[zaliafoster]

Even Through A Hurricane || Zasher

"Holy Jesus, Lord Almighty." Zalia struggled to catch her breath after both her and Asher climbed the stairs. She clutched her elbow, which was now throbbing violently. Get your act together, she threatened herself. Looking up, she glanced at Asher with pain visible in her eyes. "Are you alright?" Finally, she allowed herself to take in the full view of the floor they were on. "We need to keep moving." She said after he finished speaking. "We need to get out of open space." Zalia mounted her shield on her good arm, and held her bow limply in her hurt arm. For right now, the bow and arrow was rendered useless to her, but she would be able to soon.

[zaliafoster]

The Night of the Hunter || FuriousZalia & Asher

Zalia was vehement. Furious. She was blistering with a white hot anger that fueled her silence all the way back to the flat. She clenched her jaw and kept a hard gaze away from Asher. He had to know she was angry with him. Being forced into an elevator with Asher did not help her insane amounts of rage, but it wasn't until back in the flat did she finally allow herself to show her anger in full. "You rat bastard." She said in a cool and clear voice. Shaking her head she didn't even bare to look at him, rather she went into the straight to her room and didn't escape until the next morning. She had to prepare mentally for private training, anyways.

The next day came slowly, she was up all night running through her mind what she was going to. They were shipped off that morning, and didn't return until the late afternoon. Zalia remained stern in her silence toward Asher, but she finally broke it once they returned to the flat.

They walked in together. Zalia first, than Asher. Before he could get fully into the room, Zalia turned around quick and slammed the door. She then pinned him to the back of the door and glared hard into his eyes. All of her ferocious fury returning as if no time had past. "You don't get attached, huh?" She hissed the words to him and drew her hand back, slapping him hard across the jaw. "You'd better hope you see daylight tomorrow!" She screamed as she tackled him to the ground. This is how couples dealt with their drama-- Zalia style.