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Hello, you've reached Cassian Andor
voice
Hello, you've reached Cassian Andor
voice
'Suffering' is usually my definition when applied to others.
[ Bleeding out in the sand, when applied to himself. Either way, Cassian takes the offered glass and holds it between his fingers for a moment before slamming it back.. ]
Who was it?
[ Glossing over his own 'hurt', thank you very much. ]
[ Bleeding out in the sand, when applied to himself. Either way, Cassian takes the offered glass and holds it between his fingers for a moment before slamming it back.. ]
Who was it?
[ Glossing over his own 'hurt', thank you very much. ]
What about when it's applied to you?
[ You can't leave an opening like that and not expect him to take it, Cassian, come on.
Poe pours his own glass, frowning at the liquid. Every instinct tells him to put it down and go hit something instead of drinking, but he's pretty sure most of the stuff in here he could hit would break.
He can't fly drunk.
But there's nothing to fly right now anyway.
Yeah, time to do like his cousin and knock that shit back.
He raises his eyebrows.]
Tit for tat, Cass.
[ You can't leave an opening like that and not expect him to take it, Cassian, come on.
Poe pours his own glass, frowning at the liquid. Every instinct tells him to put it down and go hit something instead of drinking, but he's pretty sure most of the stuff in here he could hit would break.
He can't fly drunk.
But there's nothing to fly right now anyway.
Yeah, time to do like his cousin and knock that shit back.
He raises his eyebrows.]
Tit for tat, Cass.
[ Cassian makes a face and shrugs. ]
I was in pretty bad shape when I got here. My back, my leg...there's not at 100 percent yet. [ Cassian's not sure how far he could sprint, if it came down to it, and that worries him a lot.
He should probably go back to the hospital but he...won't. ]
Your turn.
I was in pretty bad shape when I got here. My back, my leg...there's not at 100 percent yet. [ Cassian's not sure how far he could sprint, if it came down to it, and that worries him a lot.
He should probably go back to the hospital but he...won't. ]
Your turn.
There are lots of those in town.
[ C'mon Poe. Cassian can plot damage control if he's unaware of the scope he's dealing with. ]
Probably. I just have to get through the next two days, then I can take it easy. [ Until taking it easy leads to boredom leads to going nuts in the echo chamber of his own head. ]
[ C'mon Poe. Cassian can plot damage control if he's unaware of the scope he's dealing with. ]
Probably. I just have to get through the next two days, then I can take it easy. [ Until taking it easy leads to boredom leads to going nuts in the echo chamber of his own head. ]
There are.
[ How very inconvenient when it comes to identifying a specific, unnamed individual.
Poe makes a noise that isn't exactly disapproval. It's more closely related to concern. Still, he himself can't really talk when it comes to taking things easy.
Can he?
No, probably not. ]
What's in the next two days?
[ How very inconvenient when it comes to identifying a specific, unnamed individual.
Poe makes a noise that isn't exactly disapproval. It's more closely related to concern. Still, he himself can't really talk when it comes to taking things easy.
Can he?
No, probably not. ]
What's in the next two days?
Edited 2017-05-04 07:17 (UTC)
Bake sale. Right. Bake sale.
[ Poe gives in to nervous energy, walking a circuit of the kitchen as BB-8 asks for confirmation of what a bake sale is.
The pilot has to resist making a sharp comment about bake sales and where they can shove themselves. Cassian is making five tables worth of baked goods plus the shop's standard inventory, which means to some degree it matters.
Or is that just this place, telling them that it matters?
He tops himself off, pauses as he starts to raise the glass, and sets it down in disgust.
How many times is he going to fail before he gets a grip on himself? The recent infractions pale in comparison to what he gave up to the First Order, but he's beyond used up his ration of mistakes.
The First Order.
Poe rests his elbows against the island counter, scrubbing his hands through his hair. ]
We can't just sit here. We have to figure out who's doing this, why, we have to get out.
[ Poe gives in to nervous energy, walking a circuit of the kitchen as BB-8 asks for confirmation of what a bake sale is.
The pilot has to resist making a sharp comment about bake sales and where they can shove themselves. Cassian is making five tables worth of baked goods plus the shop's standard inventory, which means to some degree it matters.
Or is that just this place, telling them that it matters?
He tops himself off, pauses as he starts to raise the glass, and sets it down in disgust.
How many times is he going to fail before he gets a grip on himself? The recent infractions pale in comparison to what he gave up to the First Order, but he's beyond used up his ration of mistakes.
The First Order.
Poe rests his elbows against the island counter, scrubbing his hands through his hair. ]
We can't just sit here. We have to figure out who's doing this, why, we have to get out.
[ Cassian, for his part, watches Poe while explaining to BB-8 that it is a baked goods fundraiser for the school and the local hospital. He goes on to explain that it is a little pointless, really, but it's an excuse for adults to socialize and eat sweets, plus spending money for 'a good cause'. ]
It's not terribly important, honestly, but people have asked me to bake so.
[ He raises his eyebrows at Poe. ]
I don't think storming the Sheriff's office is going to get us very far.
It's not terribly important, honestly, but people have asked me to bake so.
[ He raises his eyebrows at Poe. ]
I don't think storming the Sheriff's office is going to get us very far.
I don't know. You, me, BB-8. I think we could take 'em. [ Poe smiles in a way that says he could be joking.
Maybe. Probably. Probably definitely joking.
He drums his knuckles on the table and goes back to walking around the room, apparently forgetting he's still got a drink sitting out. ] Come on. You can't tell me that no one here is planning anything.
[ He's solution-oriented, Cassian! Particularly when finding solutions means avoiding his emotions. ]
Maybe. Probably. Probably definitely joking.
He drums his knuckles on the table and goes back to walking around the room, apparently forgetting he's still got a drink sitting out. ] Come on. You can't tell me that no one here is planning anything.
[ He's solution-oriented, Cassian! Particularly when finding solutions means avoiding his emotions. ]
Edited 2017-05-05 06:41 (UTC)
[ Cassian allows himself to let out a little snort. ]
As far as I know? No. Mostly, I imagine, because going after the Sheriff's office doesn't solve the larger problem of 'how did we get here and how do we leave', not when there's still a wall on one side that practically drains you of your lifeforce, and some nearly impossible to scale cliffs on the other. At best we take them out and we're still stuck here.
[ His eyes track Poe as he moves across the room, immediately worried. He seemed to take being family in stride, even armed with information that counteracted that. Whatever this is, whatever is affecting Poe now, is more...personal, maybe. ]
I think we're mostly in the 'collect intel' stage, I'm sorry to say.
As far as I know? No. Mostly, I imagine, because going after the Sheriff's office doesn't solve the larger problem of 'how did we get here and how do we leave', not when there's still a wall on one side that practically drains you of your lifeforce, and some nearly impossible to scale cliffs on the other. At best we take them out and we're still stuck here.
[ His eyes track Poe as he moves across the room, immediately worried. He seemed to take being family in stride, even armed with information that counteracted that. Whatever this is, whatever is affecting Poe now, is more...personal, maybe. ]
I think we're mostly in the 'collect intel' stage, I'm sorry to say.
I was kidding, Cass.
[ MOSTLY.
He stops long enough to reclaim his drink, and BB-8 trundles over to Cassian, swiveling his head dome around to track Poe's progress through another circuit of the kitchen.
It's easier for him with Cassian. They have shared history, of a kind. They're on the same side. Cassian was the first friendly, honest face Poe encountered. And he didn't have the memories of being relatives to cloud his impressions. With the memories of visits, and standing on tip-toes as a kid to try and be taller than his cousin, and Cassian's insistent ruffling of his hair--those things only serve to reinforce the sense of belonging. They've come in quietly, not crashed down on him all at once. Moreover, he knows they aren't real, however real they might seem. Cassian knew of his parents, lived years before Poe was born. It's easier to separate the real and the fake memories, if not the emotions tied to them.
And yeah, there's proof that they never could have known each other, but there's enough to make Cassian the closest thing to a squadron member Poe has here.
Caroline....
Caroline came out of nowhere. Came out of nowhere, and hit far too close to home.
Poe stops, staring into space (at the microwave), and drinks again.] What intel have we got?
[ MOSTLY.
He stops long enough to reclaim his drink, and BB-8 trundles over to Cassian, swiveling his head dome around to track Poe's progress through another circuit of the kitchen.
It's easier for him with Cassian. They have shared history, of a kind. They're on the same side. Cassian was the first friendly, honest face Poe encountered. And he didn't have the memories of being relatives to cloud his impressions. With the memories of visits, and standing on tip-toes as a kid to try and be taller than his cousin, and Cassian's insistent ruffling of his hair--those things only serve to reinforce the sense of belonging. They've come in quietly, not crashed down on him all at once. Moreover, he knows they aren't real, however real they might seem. Cassian knew of his parents, lived years before Poe was born. It's easier to separate the real and the fake memories, if not the emotions tied to them.
And yeah, there's proof that they never could have known each other, but there's enough to make Cassian the closest thing to a squadron member Poe has here.
Caroline....
Caroline came out of nowhere. Came out of nowhere, and hit far too close to home.
Poe stops, staring into space (at the microwave), and drinks again.] What intel have we got?
[ Ugh, feelings. Cassian can't see it, but Pietro scuffs his shoe at that, head ducked. He supposes he has a few good qualities. ]
You do not need to worry, I doubt anyone is remotely interested.
[ In him, and certainly not in spending the rest of their lives tied to him. ]
And if they were, it would only be a matter of time before they brought out the pitchforks instead, so really it is better if I don't entertain the idea.
[ And yet. ]
You do not need to worry, I doubt anyone is remotely interested.
[ In him, and certainly not in spending the rest of their lives tied to him. ]
And if they were, it would only be a matter of time before they brought out the pitchforks instead, so really it is better if I don't entertain the idea.
[ And yet. ]
[ A hum of acknowledgement. Give him a moment to decide how to best respond to that. ]
I suppose the first question would be are you interested in anyone? [ Not that he has to answer, exactly. ] Small towns are strange, I think. Insular in an irregular way.
Beyond that... [ Cassian is aware he's missing context here as he pulls together the threads that make up the sum of his remembered history with Pietro. He's often literal. People don't pull out the pitchforks for people who are just smarter than they are, or people like him, who kill in the name of politics and warfare.
People pull out the pitchforks for monsters and Cassian has no idea why Pietro would consider himself a monster in anyone's eyes. ]
For one, they would have to get through me first. [ Which is not an idle sort of threat, coming from Cassian. ] For another: I don't...remember the particulars. There's a good chance I never knew them. [ Cassian takes another swallow of his drink. ] Anything they had to tell me about you...I wanted to hear from you directly. That hasn't changed.
It's your story. They're your secrets. It has to be your choice as much as any of us can make those choices.
You're family. [ Cassian shuts his eyes. This new life of not lying is coming up with fascinating truths. ] That won't change.
I suppose the first question would be are you interested in anyone? [ Not that he has to answer, exactly. ] Small towns are strange, I think. Insular in an irregular way.
Beyond that... [ Cassian is aware he's missing context here as he pulls together the threads that make up the sum of his remembered history with Pietro. He's often literal. People don't pull out the pitchforks for people who are just smarter than they are, or people like him, who kill in the name of politics and warfare.
People pull out the pitchforks for monsters and Cassian has no idea why Pietro would consider himself a monster in anyone's eyes. ]
For one, they would have to get through me first. [ Which is not an idle sort of threat, coming from Cassian. ] For another: I don't...remember the particulars. There's a good chance I never knew them. [ Cassian takes another swallow of his drink. ] Anything they had to tell me about you...I wanted to hear from you directly. That hasn't changed.
It's your story. They're your secrets. It has to be your choice as much as any of us can make those choices.
You're family. [ Cassian shuts his eyes. This new life of not lying is coming up with fascinating truths. ] That won't change.
Edited 2017-05-07 21:47 (UTC)
[ You're family.
It's a well-timed reassurance, because the moment Cassian's words click, the moment Pietro realizes he didn't already know, fear cinches tight in his chest. He's said too much, too late to take it back, thinking Cassian already knew what he was and had already decided not to abandon him -- but he hadn't decided that at all. That's still an option.
He takes a breath, and another, and tries very hard to believe it isn't the only option. ]
Sorry, I thought I had-- [ told him, because that's what family means to Pietro, the people you trust with absolutely anything, and Cassian has earned that much of his trust. As Pietro tries to think back, though, he can't remember a single time he'd said it aloud. ] But I didn't.
[ And he doesn't have to now. He could stop talking, and even if Cassian might wonder, he wouldn't know. (He wouldn't leave.) But they wouldn't really be family then, either. ]
-I could show you.
The phone is no good, [ The phone is too easily tapped; he may know nothing of the truth of their situation, but he knows this is too dangerous to advertise. ] but in person, somewhere there are not many people.
It's a well-timed reassurance, because the moment Cassian's words click, the moment Pietro realizes he didn't already know, fear cinches tight in his chest. He's said too much, too late to take it back, thinking Cassian already knew what he was and had already decided not to abandon him -- but he hadn't decided that at all. That's still an option.
He takes a breath, and another, and tries very hard to believe it isn't the only option. ]
Sorry, I thought I had-- [ told him, because that's what family means to Pietro, the people you trust with absolutely anything, and Cassian has earned that much of his trust. As Pietro tries to think back, though, he can't remember a single time he'd said it aloud. ] But I didn't.
[ And he doesn't have to now. He could stop talking, and even if Cassian might wonder, he wouldn't know. (He wouldn't leave.) But they wouldn't really be family then, either. ]
-I could show you.
The phone is no good, [ The phone is too easily tapped; he may know nothing of the truth of their situation, but he knows this is too dangerous to advertise. ] but in person, somewhere there are not many people.
Alright, [ Cassian breathes out, setting the glass down. His blaster is still in it's holster behind his back, jacket on the back of a chair at the table in the middle of the kitchen. ]
Should I meet you at your place? [ From there, they can make their way to the campgrounds, maybe, or the woods. Not too close to the fence, though. ] We can sort it out from there.
Should I meet you at your place? [ From there, they can make their way to the campgrounds, maybe, or the woods. Not too close to the fence, though. ] We can sort it out from there.
Old habits.
[ Die hard, as they say.
Cassian just sort of lets his eyebrows arch slightly at Poe's reaction; whatever happened must have occurred quickly, and it clearly shook Poe to the core. He feels bad; there's no good way to explain what it feels like, to have emotional context come along with memory and know that none of it happened. Or at least it doesn't appear to have happened, not really. ]
Not much.
[ Cassian finishes his second drink. ]
There was a body, in the river. Not human, which is strange for this place; Earth is a pre-spaceflight planet, really, and doesn't seem to have an otherwise occupied solar system. So either that has changed, and the information available here hasn't kept up - or we aren't on Earth at all. [ He'll take either, to be honest. ] It was shot with a hollow-point, and whatever was in it's system probably killed it based on my roommate's findings. He works at the hospital - [ Cassian explains, with a wave of his hand ] and is good people.
Anyway. Body, in the river, infected everyone in town through the water supply. Which tells me that we're isolated in more ways than one, and this might be as much about keeping people out as it is about keeping the rest of us in.
[ Die hard, as they say.
Cassian just sort of lets his eyebrows arch slightly at Poe's reaction; whatever happened must have occurred quickly, and it clearly shook Poe to the core. He feels bad; there's no good way to explain what it feels like, to have emotional context come along with memory and know that none of it happened. Or at least it doesn't appear to have happened, not really. ]
Not much.
[ Cassian finishes his second drink. ]
There was a body, in the river. Not human, which is strange for this place; Earth is a pre-spaceflight planet, really, and doesn't seem to have an otherwise occupied solar system. So either that has changed, and the information available here hasn't kept up - or we aren't on Earth at all. [ He'll take either, to be honest. ] It was shot with a hollow-point, and whatever was in it's system probably killed it based on my roommate's findings. He works at the hospital - [ Cassian explains, with a wave of his hand ] and is good people.
Anyway. Body, in the river, infected everyone in town through the water supply. Which tells me that we're isolated in more ways than one, and this might be as much about keeping people out as it is about keeping the rest of us in.
Be nice to know if that wall makes people feel the same way coming in as they do trying to go out. Either way, meant for safety or not, it's a prison.
[ Poe tops himself off again without thinking about it, not paying attention to how much he has or hasn't drunk. It's something to do with his hands.
He toasts Cassian and knocks the whole thing back recklessly, squinting and making a face after he swallows. ] Well. I think it's safe to say this sucks.
[ Poe tops himself off again without thinking about it, not paying attention to how much he has or hasn't drunk. It's something to do with his hands.
He toasts Cassian and knocks the whole thing back recklessly, squinting and making a face after he swallows. ] Well. I think it's safe to say this sucks.
[ Pietro nods, an unconscious gesture that takes up the moment's delay before he remembers this is a phone and Cassian can't see him. ]
Alright. [ Now is as good a time as any. Better than drawing out the inevitable. ] I will be here.
Alright. [ Now is as good a time as any. Better than drawing out the inevitable. ] I will be here.
♪ It's only once Elsa has left to ride the blue bike around town and, presumably, reorient herself with a home she's forgotten, that Jyn grabs the phone. She sits behind the couch and pulls the phone off the table and into her lap, dialing a number she already knows by heart.
It's still within his working hours, but she wants to catch him at work anyway in case he swings by to make her dinner. She knows he will pick up at work anyway. Because it's her.
Once he does, she forgoes even a hello to blurt out: "Someone lives here."
It's still within his working hours, but she wants to catch him at work anyway in case he swings by to make her dinner. She knows he will pick up at work anyway. Because it's her.
Once he does, she forgoes even a hello to blurt out: "Someone lives here."
Well. There's a beat, because Cassian is blinking back surprise; he was braced to hear bad news of a very different stripe, but at least he (presumably) won't need to shoot anyone, and then he realizes that she probably wouldn't call him for that anyway.
"I'm guessing someone other than you. What are they like?"
"I'm guessing someone other than you. What are they like?"
"Blonde."
Jyn that is not what Elsa is like at all. It's just that she's so pale and delicate, even paler than Jyn herself. She shakes her head, huffs a breath, and starts over again. Real answers this time, Erso.
"She's... sweet." That much is very true. "She's had an accident and just got out of hospital. She had keys to the house." She has a name, but that fact seems to have escaped Jyn's explanation at the moment.
Jyn that is not what Elsa is like at all. It's just that she's so pale and delicate, even paler than Jyn herself. She shakes her head, huffs a breath, and starts over again. Real answers this time, Erso.
"She's... sweet." That much is very true. "She's had an accident and just got out of hospital. She had keys to the house." She has a name, but that fact seems to have escaped Jyn's explanation at the moment.
'Blonde' doesn't really tell him much, but the fact that Jyn is calling the woman 'sweet' tells him a little more. Only a very little. He wouldn't be able to identify the woman in a crowd or a lineup...
"If she hadn't had an accident it would be more uncommon, considering. It's a new month, lots of accidents at the beginning of the month." He realizes he never actually told her that before. "Each new month that I can remember, this has been happening."
Still. That doesn't address the immediate issue, which is: "How comfortable are you with this?"
"If she hadn't had an accident it would be more uncommon, considering. It's a new month, lots of accidents at the beginning of the month." He realizes he never actually told her that before. "Each new month that I can remember, this has been happening."
Still. That doesn't address the immediate issue, which is: "How comfortable are you with this?"
Her mouth turns down into a frown, playing with her mother's necklace. Trust in the Force. Maybe she doesn't want to, Mama. Maybe the Force is a jerk. Sure, she and Cassian are getting a second chance at life but it's without the rest of their crew, in a place that is nothing more than a very luxurious cage. It's not much of a second chance.
Still, her mother's words echo around her mind, inescapable.
"Not very. But she remembers being here." She remembered the house being her home, Jyn was the interloper, not the other way around. "The bike in the garage is hers." Judging by Elsa's general appearance, the delicate floral tea cups and saucers they forgo for mugs were meant for Elsa as well. Jyn just got in the way. "She offered to find some place else to stay but-- I said she didn't have to."
Still, her mother's words echo around her mind, inescapable.
"Not very. But she remembers being here." She remembered the house being her home, Jyn was the interloper, not the other way around. "The bike in the garage is hers." Judging by Elsa's general appearance, the delicate floral tea cups and saucers they forgo for mugs were meant for Elsa as well. Jyn just got in the way. "She offered to find some place else to stay but-- I said she didn't have to."
Maybe the Force is a jerk is a sentiment that Cassian can get behind.
"What would you like me to do? Should I still come make dinner?" He'd offer his place, but...she knows the offer exists.
He's not sure how much better it is, in the long run. "I'm sorry." For this thing he has absolutely no control over, but.
"What would you like me to do? Should I still come make dinner?" He'd offer his place, but...she knows the offer exists.
He's not sure how much better it is, in the long run. "I'm sorry." For this thing he has absolutely no control over, but.
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