Ashley was a good girl her whole life. Principled, kind, ambitious, and caring, she did her best to help people. Whether she was actively following her church on mission trips, or volunteering for local projects, she tried so hard. As she grew older, she grew jaded, but her ideals and her faith kept her going. She reached the conclusion in college that bringing beauty into the world wasn't going to do the job. Someone needed to take out some of the ugliness so that the beauty had room to grow. She followed that calling, and decided she would join the police.

Fast forward five years. Her drive and idealism made her a rarity on the force; she was a one-woman crusade. She made detective in comparatively little time, and was assigned to the south side, gang violence. It was perfect for her. These were criminals that targeted the young, poisoning them with addiction, with an almost cultish mentality of fraternity, and held the whole area back from its potential. She labored tirelessly to improve the situation, always going by the book. After all, if the police didn't follow the law, who would? Why should anyone?

That idealism cost her everything. It was only months before the impact she had started to draw attention from people who liked the status quo. Money changed hands from the criminals to the law men, and she was hung out to dry. She answered a call for backup in oak park one day, and walked right into an ambush. Two gangs were there: one in colors, one in uniform. They gunned her down and left her for dead there on west 76th. By the time the ambulance got there, there was nothing they could do. By the time she got to the hospital, she was a vegetable, and no doctor could imagine her ever waking up.

Almost no doctor, anyway. Upon looking through her file for a living will, he family found a different document. This contract stated that if she were rendered comatose in the line of duty, she wanted every single measure exhausted before pulling life support, up to and including experimental treatments being researched elsewhere in the city. Signed and authorized, there was a contract volunteering for research at the Center for Preternatural Services.

And so, to the research department she went. The good Doctor Sun was there, as were representatives of different fields of medicine to see if this 'treatment' could be effective. As far as conventional medicine could go, even if Ashley DID wake up, she would never walk, drive, or hold a coffee mug again. This would be a testament to constructive uses for disease if it worked.

And it did work. She was given a transfusion of lycanthropic blood: the Lion variety. It was only hours before she woke, and just over a day before she was walking. There would be adjustments, to be sure, but she welcomed her new lease on life with optimism and vigor.


Fast forward another year: Once she had recovered, and the hospital staff judged her competent in controlling herself, she was released with some fanfare. It was with "profound regret" that she was told she would not be allowed to return to her life as a detective. It was another blow when she found that her new community, the Pride, was in tragic shape. They'd lived as 'free meat' for years, she was told. They couldn't defend themselves from the other shifters, and didn't even think to try. It was gang on gang violence all over again. Bullies and assholes ran the show, and the weaker people were left to fend for themselves, or seek protection from other bullies. She'd had enough.

Three years ago, through hard work, determination, and instinct, she finally became powerful enough to command the Pride. It had cost her even the appearance of humanity, but she didn't mind one bit. She didn't rule with a fist. She didn't rule at all. She inspired the others to be more man than beast, and appealed to the noble natures of even the most bestial. Lions were proud, territorial animals, after all. Why shouldn't they be independent? Why shouldn't they set their own terms? They call her Regina because they have to. That's just the culture; the other species need someone to send diplomats and challenges to. In the end, though, Lion territory has no ruler, and only one rule: Don't. FUCK. with Ashley.

Once they had established themselves again, it was a simple matter to find other, like-minded leaders in the shifter community. One of them, a generous queen, saw what she had done with the lions, and liked what she saw. Ashley had never expected payback, but she got it just the same: Amber Palace. The lions collectively bought it, and they collectively see to it that it continues as a neutral zone. They make sure that there's one place, one area of town where no matter your colors, you can find company and carry on in safety.

There's still a lot to do, of course, but Ash's goals are her own. She doesn't want to lead the city. She doesn't want to spread fear and violence. She only wants everyone, human, shifter, vampire, or whatever else, to have a fair chance. That's what she does, and what the lions do. The watch for people that are disrupting the peace, and they make sure that they stop.

If they do a good enough job, maybe they'll make enough room in the cesspool that Chicago has become for something beautiful to grow, after all.