( open )

[evasives]

WHO: cassian, helena + YOU (ota!!)
WHERE: dreamscapes and new amsterdam, maybe elsewhere
WHEN: throughout ic march & early april
WHAT: dreams! cooking! it's a catch all!
NOTES OR WARNINGS: several warnings - will note above each header for specifics but many dreams involve blood and death, please be aware of the individual warnings! starters in the comments.

( hit me up if you want anything else specific: communism @ plurk, romanitas#5368 @ discord, or pms! or wildcard me, i'm easy. )

Comments

( cassian ) red wings: a barstool

[evasives]

[ cassian doesn't work here or have much stake in it, but he frequents it anyway simply because it's a space for the displaced to hang out, and even if he doesn't speak to anyone, he likes to get to know faces. he'd rather know who might glow blue should they shake hands or touch, to try and avoid that pesky side effect happening in more public settings. it's very difficult to get any group to always see eye to eye, but at least he can see what they all look like. ]

[ he tends to hang out at the bar, munching on the appetizer of the day. if it's earlier, his drink of choice is simply water. later in the evening it might be alcoholic - though even that varies, because he keeps trying new ones, like he's trying to figure out which is his favorite (which is is, secretly). ]

For one planet, at least they have a lot of variety here. [ he will give earth one perk. being stationary instead of interplanetary gets boring though. ]

[heliophilous]

A good selection. They should put that in the brochure.

( marcos moves to slide onto the stool beside cassian, motioning towards the bartender as he does. he orders something simple but alcoholic before glancing over at the other man. )

That why you're here? To sample everything and see what's good and what sucks?

[evasives]

[ cassian senses someone a few seconds before he sees marcos, shifting his posture to something slightly more welcoming. ]

Why else would I be here? [ if it were possible, there'd be a shrug in his voice. it's definitely not the only reason he's here. ]

I do not drink nearly as much as some of us seem to - [ is this a direct call out of jyn and marcos? it might be 👀 ] But it's good to have options.

[purrsistence]

[ Catra is about to walk right on past Cassian when she hears his little comment, and she stops, walks backwards and then slides into the seat next to him, stealing an onion ring from his plate and throwing it into her mouth to munch quick as you please, before saying-- ]

Hold up. You've been to other planets? Which ones? What are they like?

[evasives]

[ he almost - almost - tries to stop her from taking the onion ring. instead he shifts his plate, not out of reach, just giving him a better vantage point to intercept next time. ]

None in this galaxy. I have been to many, I would have to make a list to get them all. The Ring of Kafrene. Yavin 4. Dantooine. Alderaan. I don't suppose any of that sounds familiar to you?

[ he doubts it, he figures jyn would have figured it out already, but! ]

( cassian ) dream: a roof top

[evasives]

( cw: blood, headshot murder )

[ cassian, hair trimmed shorter but scruffy beard ever present, is about twenty-three years old perched atop this building. the streets are crowded below, but the sun is behind him, blocking him from view should anyone look up, and there's a hodgepodge of containers and storage units, making the outline of the roof a strange wave of shapes, allowing him to blend in further. several other roofs are structured similarly. ]

[ he is perched with a sniper rifle, locking it into place while he peers through the scope, scanning the crowd below. there are stormtroopers scattered about, but he seems uninterested in them. after a few moments, his target becomes clear: it's a woman dressed in gray military slacks, blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun with two troopers on either side of her. she moves casually, conversing with a younger man just sort of nodding along. ]

[ she is the governor of this city, sympathetic to imperials but with a tenuous grip on the citizens. the atmosphere attests to that, a sense of urgency and immense dislike, all aimed through the rifle at this woman. ]

[ that's all the dream seems to care about in regards to backstory, because two seconds later, cassian pulls the trigger, and she stumbles, dropping to the ground already dead. it's the perfect shot, the blast colliding with her head. the outcry is a few seconds delayed as the situation is recognized, then the troopers frantically look around for who did it, yelling orders while the crowds scream and duck, but cassian doesn't react. he just hauls his rifle away from the edge of the roof and sits, laying low in case someone does get the sense to look up - ]

[ and evidently, someone's just witnesses the whole thing behind him. it's instinct to jerk the rifle back up, as though it's not a long ranged weapon. he could fire it anyway, if need be. ]

[realists]

[ despite the impossibility of returning home, it isn't the stormtroopers or the familiar droids and species walking around beneath them that illuminates jyn to the dream. cassian doesn't notice her. even when he is in his own head, he is too clued into the world around him to not notice someone nearby. except in a dream that insists on playing out to some point.

the blaster fires, a familiar sharp zip-pew, and jyn flinches from the proximity, tugging at her ear as cassian jerks away from the edge of the building, sinking down beneath the ledge. ]

Hey!

[ this isn't the first time she's had a blaster pointed at her, but it's the first time she's had cassian's pointed at her. (well, technically the second, but she was a little too busy in jedha to notice when he dropped his blaster. she had it well enough in hand.) ]

[evasives]

[ cassian recognizes jyn, slowly becoming aware of the fact that it's a dream, that she's seen some of it, though he can't tell when she found her way in. this "gift" the displaced have is one of the more annoying ones. ]

[ but he is not annoyed at her. just nervous, even though as far as his dreams go, this one is pretty tame. ]

[ the gun lowers as soon as he realizes it's her, though he doesn't remove his finger from the trigger. ]

What are you doing here? [ or when, the question is more about when. if it was reality, he would have noticed her much sooner. ]

[stabsbooks]

[ Cassandra may never have seen a gun before, but she recognizes a weapon when it's aimed at her.

She stays where she is, neither moving forward nor running away, and shows her own empty hands - her sword is nowhere to be seen, regrettably, and even if she had it with her she couldn't hope to disarm this man fast enough, with his weapon that can kill instantly and at range. She speaks low and clear instead, willing her body language to reinforce her words. ]

I am no threat to you. You do not need to use that.

[ Not, at least, until she figures out what's going on here - if it's her duty to try to take this man out, no matter the risk to herself. ]

[evasives]

[ immediately he is casing this woman. she's holding no weapons, but the paranoid part of his brain reminds him of how easy it is to reach for something hidden, how often he's done that himself. still, he does not shoot, gives no indication that he is going to, even if he only lowers the rifle a fraction rather than putting wholly downward. it's easier to take her in without the scope in the way. ]

People can promise that without honesty. Who are you?

[ it's not a generic introductory phase of interrogation - there's something about her that suggests she does not belong in this setting, in this dream. she's never appeared in this sequence before. ]

[kill7]

(qi is mostly unsure why exactly is he here... and who is this guy?

before he can put two and two together with the scenario, the shot was fired, screaming ensues and there's ringing to his ears. his first reaction is to simply stick his finger into his ear, wiggling a little to see if it would make the sound go away and --- wait, why does this guy have a gun on him??)

Hey, hey, hey, no need!! Chill, man!!

(he says with his hands up, jumping a little in place.)

[evasives]

[ cassian andor doesn't know the meaning of chill!! but he does lower the rifle so it isn't pointing at this stranger, if only because he knows this person does not belong here. he doesn't put it away entirely, too wired, but he does squint, note the hands raised. ]

Who are you?

( cassian ) dream: a ship

[evasives]

( cw: blood, neck stabbing/puncture wounds, murder )

[ there's a soft hum, the lights are dim. the vessel is sleek, pristine, and cassian sits in a mechanic's uniform looking over schematics of what looks like a starship. his hair is trimmed neatly, his beard almost nonexistent, the way imperials like their men. it's clear he's been studying this map for a while, but by the time you enter the dream, he turns the holograph off, taking a step back and taking a deep breath. ]

[ then he moves, a toolbox at his side. his role is maintenance on this ship. seemingly. he walks through the ship and the rare passersby barely pay any attention to him thanks to the uniform. he makes his way towards the engine room, pulling out a small box. with some finagling he attaches it to the power system on board, implementing a timer for ten minutes. ]

[ he snaps back a secret compartment on the toolbox and pulls out a thin, tiny vibroblade, tucking it just under his sleeve. the dream follows him, where he comes up behind the only other mechanic on board, stabbing him at the corner of his neck without warning. there's a gurgling sort of cry in pain, but the body drops and cassian abandons it, the blood loss small enough to only trickle down the neck, dangerous in the precision of striking an artery. ]

[ it doesn't stop there; cassian moves through the ship seamlessly, following a predetermined path. the walls are blurry in this dream, tunnel vision come to life. he reaches the cockpit, but the door opens, one of the pilots stepping out. "can i help you?" ]

Just the man I was looking for. [ this is not his regular accent, it sounds heavier, more pronounced on the consonants. ] There was a warning down below about steering, I wanted to take a look.

[ the pilot nods, turning to duck back into the cockpit, but cassian moves up like a snake, stabbing the vibroblade into the man's neck. the same spot as before. he doesn't let this body thunk, catching it with his other arm to help lower it much more quietly to the ground inside. "what's going on? comes the voice of the second pilot, looking over her shoulder. she gets about two seconds of witnessing cassian before he's in her space, committing the third murder of the evening, in the exact same way. she slumps over in her chair, and cassian closes the cockpit door, locking you inside with two bodies and a killer. ]

[evite]

( she slides into the dream in the middle of the night, and as if to add insult to injury, she doesn't change. locked in a small cockpit with a man, his dead body count, and her pajamas.

dryly, though whether that's sincere or an attempt to not display how frightened she is is anyone's guess, daisy remarks: ) Please tell me this is not a murder-suicide mission, Cassian.

( look. you probably can't die in real life if you die in a dream, but that doesn't mean she wants to find out for sure? )

[evasives]

[ it's pretty standard run of the mill dream in his case, his brain just cycling through old missions on a fairly regular basis - at least until daisy shows up in her pajamas. ]

[ it's... not quite a comfort, but it is something a little reassuring to know maybe he won't jerk awake from this one at the end. it doesn't stop him from being mildly anxious though, not quite sure how much she's seen. ]

No. There is an escape pod waiting for me. It has been ready since the morning. [ a beat. ] Us now, I suppose.

( helena ) safehouse: a meal

[sestra]

[ helena is... cooking. she's making use of the safehouse's kitchen, and even though she's barely started, her space is already a big mess, largely of shredded cheese. what kind? any kind! she has pulled out a variety of cheese from the fridge and is in the process of shredding several, changing when she gets bored of a particular shade of yellow. it's mac and cheese time! ]

[ she's making little noises each time she whips the shredder over the cheese, almost a swishing sound; when she has enough in her bowl, she lifts it, flipping it upside down to dump it all at once into a pot. ] Bam!

[ some of the contents spill out over the side, but she doesn't seem concerned. she'll gather up all the excess later and combine. it's not exactly like what silena told her to do, but as long as the cheese melts and the macaronis cook, she figures it'll be edible. ]

[ should someone walk into the kitchen, she'll point the cheese shredder at them. ] I make macaroni and cheese. You like?

you fool, this is at my house

[gasping]

( it's incredible how much food there can be in a fridge at one time. with six (six?!) people all living in one three bedroom apartment, there's plenty to go around. there are at least four types of cheeses currently splayed out in varying stages of shreddedness on the counter, and plenty of mess around it.

it's like a hurricane came through, hellbent on mac and cheese. hurricane helena. )

I... do, yes.

( caroline looks a little bewildered, but she did also just get home from work. she was not expecting this. )

[sestra]

[ her face lights up. ]

You may have some! Silena gave me recipe.

[ this is not her house or her kitchen, but she was given range of it to make dinner for herself and silena tonight, but helena has no qualms about inviting any of the other roommates either. ]

[ whether or not the resulting dish is edible is another story, ending still unknown. ] Don't worry, I will clean after.

( helena ) dream: an impalement

[sestra]

( cw: massive amounts of blood, impalement injuries, potential references to self harm, poor medical treatment )

[ you wake up into a dream, in a child's bed, though the details of that are blurry other than feet hanging over the edge of the mattress. something compels you to go downstairs, and when you hit the bottom floor, it's barefeet in blood, trailing along the hallway towards a bathroom, the door opened just a crack. from inside, there's muttering, "i'm not beth. i'm not beth." ]

[ when you open the door to the bathroom, it's full of blood. helena is standing at the sink, and scattered on the countertop are bandages and medicines, all manner of things she's pulled out of the cabinets. the floor is stained and splotchy with blood too, her gloved hands are a mess, there's ripped rags tossed carelessly all around. on her back are actual angel-like white wings - small and fluttering and hazy, but also splattered red with blood - visible only for a moment before she turns around to look. the front of her paper thin camisole is just as bloody, making it clear she's been cleaning up her own injury nestled in her lower right abdomen, still bleeding out from the shitty job she's done at playing nurse. this mess is all her own blood. ]

[ she raises a finger to her lips. ] Shhhh.

[chocolateries]

[ silena moves on instinct, following the sounds and then the trail of blood. there's a very dreamy quality to everything; the blood could be paint splotches, all the lights are haloed like the soft lighting of a movie from the 40s, and there's an angel in the bathroom.

silena yawns and rubs her eyes as the wings shimmer away and helena turns, shushing her. she rubs her eyes again. ]

What're you doing in my bathroom?

[sestra]

[ silena slowly comes into focus, not the child she was expecting. she lowers her hand and frowns, looking around the room like she's making sure the set up hasn't changed from familiarity. no, it's still the same one she wrecked. ]

This is not your bathroom.

[ to be fair, she doesn't know whose bathroom it is. she'd never even gotten the little boy's name. ]

I need to fix wound.

( helena ) dream: a tail

[sestra]

( cw: body modification, blood, amputation of appendage )

[ there's no easing into this dream. there's black, and suddenly - the bag flies off helena's head, allowing the scene to come into color and life. she's sitting on a table in a leather jacket, hands seemingly bound behind her back, and there's a man looking startled to see her there, holding a knife on her while he stares in an almost gross fascination. ]

I want to see your tail. [ she says it almost playfully, then she lunges forward, disarming the man in a matter of seconds. she steals his own knife, slamming him face down on the table. she puts the knife to his throat and hums. ] Now show me the tail. Slowly.

[ with his one free hand, the man reaches down and awkwardly, slowly, starts to pull down the top of his pants. popping out from under the shirt and above his boxers is... indeed what looks like a human tail, twitching and moving. helena slides the knife closer to it and it curls up at the end. ] How is this possible? [ she sounds disgusted and curious both at once, then brings the knife back up to his face. ] Did you lie with the beast?

[ "please," he pleads. "you're a miracle. let me help you." there's a sudden spike in the hostility in the air, making it very apparent that she hates this man. the light at the edge of the room darkens, like it's spotlighting what she's doing as a special, almost holy act. ]

I have a message for your master. [ she reaches for the tail with her free hand, still keeping the man trapped against the table with her body and her elbow. she slips the knife under it and grits her teeth, angry in tone now too. ] From Tomas.

[ then she slices it clean off, leaving a gaping hole where it was truly connected to his body. ]

[kill7]

( this dream-sharing thing is absolutely a nightmare, qi thinks to himself as he watches the scene from across the room. it's kind of weird, being up in people's business like this, and certainly, there's some stuff he much rather not know. this is one of those things.

he's watching from behind a door, and remained quiet and confused until the tail came off the body... to which he could not hold in his surprise.)

Wait, what the f--

(with the jump he had, he bumped into a shelf... which bumped into another shelf... all went down to the ground. so much for being discreet. )

( closed ) home: an experiment

[realists]

[ cassian tells jyn that clarke is coming over like he thinks she is going to budge from her spot draped on the couch eating an entire jar of salmonberries and throwing nuts for the marmoset to chase before he runs back to her and the game of fetch starts all over again.

clarke has been in their home before, on more than one occasion, so jyn isn't going to stand on ceremony. she does sit up, begrudgingly when cassian nudges her from his seat right next to her on the couch, opening the door via implant when clarke knocks. ]

Come in!

[strove]

[If there was anyone that she'd have to share this experience with, at least it's Cassian. Clarke doesn't know him well, but his close bond with Jyn makes it easier. She's in her head most of the way over, worried about how she might come off, how this experience likely won't reflect well of her, how it might be hard to see as a memory—

—and then she walks in and Jyn is being Jyn about it all. Her body language doesn't loosen entirely, but she does breathe out.]

Well, I'm glad someone's having an easy time of it.

[Of course, not everyone can find a good reason to be stressed and overworked all the time. Some people know how to revel in this life while getting stuff done.

Clarke's still working on it.]