Logs:Meeting Ashton

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Meeting Ashton

Characters: Ashton and Wesson
Date: 2020-07-17
Summary: Ashton and Wesson meet up for Wesson's interview into the Militia
Disclaimers: Its all good in the hood!

Most interviews don't occur in the evening hours, but most interviews also don't involve a Darkling with a large appetite. When Ashton reaches out to Wesson to set out a time and location for them to meet up, the time just turns out to be halfway through dinner rush with the place being the Hedge-side dining area of L'Auberge. Clear instructions are texted out, in case Wesson doesn't already know how to get there.

Ashton's already familiar with the restaurant, being one of its regulars, so he walks into the common eating area full of smiling people, winks at some of the handsomer waiters, and slips into the kitchen with confidence. He might have lingered a little too long to drool over the food roasting in the fire pit and bubbling away in the pots before making his order and reluctantly stepping through the hedgeway into the magical mirror of L'Auberge. Now, the gray skinned and translucent scaled Darkling's sitting inside the smaller private dining room with a Briarwolf escutcheons on the door, which adjoins the main dining area. He hums softly to himself while he waits for his dinner date to arrive.

She is surprisingly punctual, the only thing that gives her pause is making it towards the kitchen. The Elemental soon finds that the people working in the kitchen don't seem to mind her presence at all, which is enough to indicate she is in the right place. Finding the mirror, Wesson steps through it to find herself in the Hedge-side with the man she needs to meet. "Ashton?" she asks, her voice a deep and husky tone. She steps up to his table as she introduces herself. "I'm Wesson. Wesson N. Smith," with the deadpan note of her voice, its hard to see if she even notices the pun in her name or not.

Ashton gets smoothly to his feet to greet Wesson by laying his left hand over his right fist and giving her a little bow. This Eastern gesture is a little at odds with the manner of his attire -- a navy blue silk button up shirt, black slacks and black dress boots -- but he almost immediately follows up with the more common act of offering his hand for Wesson to shake. "Nice to finally have a face to put to the name," Ashton quips with a broad grin on his face that showcases a multitude of translucent teeth, which does nothing to conceal the dark gray interior of his mouth. "Did you pick the name or is that what you've always been known as? I'm not a gun expert and even I caught the reference."

At the bow, Wesson cants her head to the side before she gives him a curt nod. "Odette said you were the nice one," she returns with a hint of amusement in her monotoned voice. At the mention of her name, the blued-steel Elemental reaches up to rub the back of her neck. "That's just the thing that first popped out of my head when I first...escaped and they asked me who I was. I couldn't remember my own name but could remember the gun's." A snort slips out of her at that. "So it stuck. Better than getting it mixed up with my Fetch's either way." She accepts his hand in a firm handshake; her own skin feels like malleable metal warmed by the fire within her and the Summer mantle adding to the slight heat.

Ashton nods his head in sympathy and understanding. "Yeah, I gather that memory lose is pretty common, especially for those of us who were taken either a long time ago, or spent too much time There, or just got their heads tampered with. I'm lucky in that regards, among other things. Nasty business..." The Darkling grimaces, but quickly smoothes the expression in favor of his usual friendly grin. He gestures for Wesson to take the opposite chair after pulling back from the handshake, staying standing himself until he can see her get settled in. "So, Commander Odette called me the nice one? Did that make Lieutenant Hawthorn the bad cop?" The corners of his lips twitches into a momentary smirk. "He mentioned that the Commander also directed you to him."

Pulling the chair back, Wesson takes the seat and immediately crosses one leg over the other, though she leans forward in order to rest her elbows on the table. Not one for etiquette, this one. At the mention of Hawthorne, Wesson lets out a another little snort, the amusement increasing this time as she shakes her head. "I would think Odette is actually the bad cop, though she is more of the 'stern cop'. Hawthorne has been showing me how to deal with the Hedge. 'Mentor cop'? Hmm, I wouldn't know what to label him. Taciturn Cop?" the titles definitely seem to tickle her fancy despite her deadpan voice. "You may have the label of good cop, but something tells me to not underestimate you."

Ashton slips into his own seat and leans back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Nah, I'm pretty harmless overall compared to everyone else in the Militia. But really, it's not a great idea to underestimate anyone. Even the pampered Chihuahua living with nice little granny across the hallway can give a person an unpleasant surprise given the right circumstances." He tilts his head to one side and eyes Wesson with his faintly glowing silver gaze. "The titles you've just bestowed on Lieutenant Hawthorn does sound more fitting to the person that I know... But now I'm kind of curious. Why would the Commander send you to -two- of us for assessment before making her final decision. Ignoring what she might have said to you, I want to hear what -you- think we're talking now."

At his question, Wesson drums her fingers against the table thoughtfully while her other hand reaches into her back pocket. Lifting her butt off her chair briefly, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Its a habit she has developed since as soon as she realizes she is indoors and can't just light up, she places them on the table instead. "Well," she murmurs thoughtfully. "Knowing what little I know of Odette, she was alarmed by my...strong desire to take on one of Them," the capitalized T is heard quite clearly to indicate the True Fae. "And how I may use the Militia as a means to exact my own revenge," her deep and husky voice is honest yet solemn. The woman is blunt. "And Odette would protect the Freehold from all things, including people with misdirected sense of revenge," her lips quirk at the corners but is wiped away quickly enough. "I am not aiming for that, not directly at least. I was researching methods on which to maim or kill, but...I have reoriented that path to use a secret weapon in case They attack, as a weapon to have in our pockets to protect the Freehold - instead of my own mad dash for-..." she trails off and waves her hand.

"Huh." After that single soft release of breath that spills a plume of mist from his mouth into the air, Aston places his elbows on the table and leans forward with his chin resting on laced fingers to watch Wesson. His silver-eyed gaze is thoughtful while he digests what he'd just heard and not a single twitch can be seen on his no longer smiling face. After what feels like a few silent minutes, but probably no more than thirty seconds, the Darkling dips his head in a nod without lifting his chin off his fists. "I can -definitely- see what the Commander would be concerned. A thirst for vengeance against Them isn't uncommon, but it often leads to self destruction without being properly tempered. And sometimes, the ensuing fires end up engulfing everything all around."

Ashton purses his lips and makes a soft clicking sound against the roof of his mouth with his tongue. "It sounds like you -have- tempered your rage since you last spoke with her. Actions always speak louder than words, but if you can harness it towards the good of the Freehold instead of personal gain, I won't be averse to fighting by your side. If other members of Summer can hone their wrath into a polished weapon instead of a ticking time bomb, I can't see why we shouldn't give you a chance, as long as you're sincere about this."

At the mention of ensuing fires, her own eyes light up slightly as the flames rise to the occasion, but her expression remains unchanged as Wesson bobs her head in agreement. "My rage is," she hesitates before continuing, "definitely tempered. Its been too long since I have mixed with humans and other Changelings. I forgot about bonds one needs in order to...function," she adds honestly. "It is something I have learned quite effectively in the past few weeks. No weapon is meant to be wielded alone. Our courts, our Freehold, all of that is a delicate balance of safety." She frowns slightly at that, her fingers splaying wide against the table as she muses over her own thoughts. "There are better ways to seek vengeance perhaps, and protecting the Freehold is one of them. I can still seek out the best way to destroy Them, but use that as one of our weapons in the arsenal for when the Freehold needs it."

An smile spreads onto Ashton's lips again, and he lifts his chin off his clasped hands. "I do believe that you're sincere, and I'll convey that to the Commander. As you've said, we're not meant to stand alone. When we try to do that, it often just brings us closer to Them, as They're beings with no concept regarding the value of others. We should never let ourselves fall under that same trap. No, we're stronger together as friends and allies, a Freehold dedicated to protecting each other's backs." His hands untwine, so that he can flick his fingers towards the surroundings. He lowers that same hand to tap a finger against the table. "What skills one Lost doesn't have can be covered by the expertise of another, same as weaknesses. We're multiple fibers, woven together into a stronger material for Them to break Themselves upon. And if there's also a hidden weapon lying in wait to surprise Them, so much the better." Ashton dips his head towards Wesson.

Wesson bobs her head in agreement as she pulls back to sit straighter. Her fiery eyes fix on his softly glowing silver ones as she gives him a curt nod in strong agreement. "A soldier is never effective alone. A gun can never be fired without someone pulling the trigger. We are indeed all parts that make up a whole. It is still something that takes me a while to realize, but...it is becoming clearer to me day by day." At the mention of the weapon, she exhales softly as she drops her shoulders. "I am still researching it, or asking others to look into it, but readying an arsenal would be useful I think. It is a project I have placed in the backburner for now, but one that I still wish to look into. In the mean time I feel far more useful in putting my Summer's rage in a...more directed manner. I wish to be useful here, not just a creature raging against...nothing."

"Well said. I think I have what I need for my response to the Commander." Ashton leans back into his chair and claps his hands together with a loud pop of sound. "Even if I had any lingering doubts, I'm of the opinion that people should be given a chance until their actions prove them unworthy of one. Everyone should have the opportunity to reinvent themselves, when their original vision doesn't prove to be entirely practical. Maybe it's the Spring in me." Both of the Darkling's translucent brows lift and he waggles them at Wesson, while an mirth dances in his solid silver eyes.

"Have you met the Queen yet? She knows a thing or two about weaponry, having been the Freehold's Quartermaster and previous Militia Lieutenant before taking on the Summer Crown. The current Quartermaster is also a Wizen with great knowledge of making weaponry. You can't mistake Wayfarer for anyone else. He's shorter than me and has the characteristics of a raccoon." Ashton pauses briefly before adding, "And he's known for making things explode. Or so I've heard."

At the waggling of his eyebrows, Wesson slowly blinks before canting her head to the side like a curious dog. She seems to consider his words about Spring but is quick to snap into focus at the mention of Stasya. "I have," she suddenly declares, a bit louder than intended as she leans forward. "That woman spins sweets into blades. Have you seen anything like that? Sharp as a shard of melted sugar. I spoke to her about my ideas on how to deal with Them and she seemed intrigued. Said I can look into as much as I can and gave me persmission to forge weapons we may not like; as long as it is only used in the defense of the Freehold. Anything else and well, I get to see how well she can eviscerate me with those blades of hers." That seems to amuse her as her husky voice takes on that note. "I've also met Way and his Motley friend, MacKenzie. She is the one I asked to help me as well. They are tightly glued to their Motley," it is obvious she seems curious about that, but surges on with her musings. "But said they will look into it if needed. If this works and we find something, well, the Militia's strength will hopefully be magnified. If not, at least we have tried..."

Ashton lets out a soft bark of laughter. "You've definitely been making some inroads since you arrived. I can almost hear Her Majesty saying those exact words to you, if I concentrate just a little bit. It sounds like something she'd do. If she'd already given you permission, then I suggest you make the best of it. Just try not to blow yourself up or cut off necessary body parts doing it. If that happens, it'll be a loss for the Freehold, since we won't get any more of the shiny new weapons you're working on." The Darkling closes one eye in an exaggerated wink at Wesson.

"I'm getting pretty famished. Why don't I pop back through to the other side to grab some food for us?" Ashton gives his stomach a gentle pat-pat. "None one's been bothering us, since I kind of told them we're having as serious talk here. Gilles' people can whip up some of the best French food you'll ever have, and the portion sizes aren't the pretentious little plates you get at most places either. I already ordered before I came over, so my food's probably already waiting."

At the mention of exploding body parts, Wesson sits back rather triumphantly as the curl returns to her lips. It is gone as soon as it appears, however, as she bobs her head in agreement. "I will be sure to try and keep myself as whole as possible, along with the Freehold," there might be a little joke in there but it can be hard to tell with her deadpan voice. "The Queen is something alright. Sweet as candy but there is no mistaking the Summer's wrath in that pastel colored woman." She says it with all the solemn note of someone who seems to respect the Wizened. At the mention of food, she perks up a little bit before nodding in agreement. "As long as it isn't snails or frog legs I am willing to try anything. Better to eat before your food gets cold. I think I will order too, just need to step outside for a quick smoke as well then I'll join you," she adds as she grabs her pack and lighter. The Elemental already looks a less tense than when she first walked in; finding her place can do that to a Lost.