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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. )

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[ 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. ]

Edited 2020-04-16 01:20 (UTC)

( 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. ]

( 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. ]

Edited 2020-04-16 01:25 (UTC)

[ 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?

( 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.

Edited 2020-04-16 01:29 (UTC)

( 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. ]

[ 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!

Edited 2020-05-18 06:17 (UTC)

Threaded | Flat

( cassian ) red wings: a barstool

( cassian ) dream: a roof top

( cassian ) dream: a ship