[ there is nothing about this that cassian likes. even in the haze of whatever drugs he's on, his brain is fighting to regain control. he immediately stumbles towards the nearest wall to at least shield his back while he tries to get his bearings after unceremoniously being abandoned by the people inside the van. it's been Quite A Time. ]

[ he should not be able to stand against the wall, he realizes, or stand upright at all. the last thing he remembers is broken bones and blaster burns, but as far as he can tell, it's all been cured. was he put in some sort of bacta tank? he presses a hand into his back and feels... nothing, no pain at all. his hair is shorter than he last remembers, beard too neatly trimmed. he needs to get out of this alley, he needs to know what planet he's on. there's some sort of party nearby, and he follows after the sounds of it. ]

[ any offers of alcohol are immediately brushed off, not even politely. it's just a quick and firm: ] No.

[ cassian learns quickly that this is called oktoberfest, but the name tells him nothing. most festivals are full of drinking and the occasionally reckless activity, and he's trying very hard to get a read on the culture from it. beer seems to be the whole point, how boring.]

[ it's impossible to completely hide the effects of sedation, but he does his best!! it's not too shabby, and if he shoulder checks someone, it's only half on accident. most of the people here seem to be too drunk to be useful, but maybe he can glean bits and pieces. he does his best to sound friendly and not lost even though his clothes are a much bigger giveaway, but he doesn't want to make himself a target. ] Recommendations? Alcoholic or otherwise?

[ so. there's a safehouse, for new arrivals. cassian supposes he did arrive in a vehicle with several others, all of which he lost when he escaped into the party. he should have kept better tabs, but he was more concerned about getting himself to safety. and the morning after, he mostly feels himself again, whatever was in his system completely worn off. ]

[ he would very much like to leave this safehouse, but he supposes it's a good place to put his ear to the ground with the people who come and go. his chosen bed is in a corner, tucked against a wall. he hates communal living in general, hasn't had to share a space with anyone in a few years, but it's not like he isn't used to sleeping in stranger and more dangerous locations when he wasn't on base. ]

[ he scrolls through the network as best he can from his little corner. he rummages through the kitchen, stock full of food, but he doesn't seem to be looking for something to eat. he's snooping around the safehouse, but in such an innocuous, unobtrusive way that he comes across like a lost newbie - which he is at the same time, so it's not that much of a stretch, and he wants people to tell him things. he watches carefully and casually, noting frequent visitors versus the more temporarily permanent, mostly by their clothes and better upkeep. with a purposefully faint dramatic sigh, he'll get someone's attention who doesn't look like they're sleeping on a cot. ] Hey, tell me, is the outside world still there?

[ it becomes easier to recognize who else is newer, least of all because it's the people who are here day after day like him. so when he finishes up making a cup of coffee in the kitchen, he decides he can try and make conversation with his fellow hostages new arrivals, gesturing with his cup. ] At least there is caf.

[ wild card me!! random scenario! ota ]