realists | open ✧ the time to fight is now

Thank you, but I'm not putting you in danger for sentimentality. [ if they had even an inkling that she survived, the smart thing to do would be to post sentries at places she might return to and home would be one of them. ]

I can keep you company if you'd like.

Mhm, good point. [ He'll have to have someone else go, maybe. Something to think about. ]

I'd like that, yeah. [ Nodding, and then maneuvering the chair to move at her walking pace towards the the damper sand. ]

[ part of her wonders if he realizes that keeping him company this time is not for his benefit but for her incredibly shallow benefit. she's usually perched in the corner as they push him through physical therapy anyway, but it is breed more out of a more pure and companionable urge -- she doesn't want him to go through this alone. her own injuries were so superficial in comparison, the least she can do is keep him company.

and harass his doctors like an overbearing mother hen. but he doesn't need to know that. ]

Of course.

[ Like he doesn't suspect she'd give them shit? They're authority figures, aren't they?

He doesn't know who benefits more, himself or Jyn, but he knows he's grateful for the company. Even when the exercises feel grueling, even when his bones ache, it's a little easier knowing she's there. That she's stayed.

Cassian does wonder what she thinks, when she sees his various scars, when she watches him struggle to move through the water. His ego fears pity, but his good sense knows better.

Today is no different. The resistance in the water makes even the smallest movement a more intense struggle, and he's exhausted before it's over, but he still refuses the chair for the walk back to where she's waiting. ]

What if I'm too tired to fight with you over fruit?

[ she is an unrelenting force akin to a pageant mother. ]

Well I will happily take all the grapes without protest and I'm sure we can find something else to argue about. [ which she makes sound like an invitation, but if ever they just start blindly agreeing with each other... no, that wouldn't be right. ]

I'm sure no one mind if we took food back to our rooms. We could watch a holofilm. Relax, like I'm told people actually do. [ sounds fake but ok. ]

[ He's glad not to be on the receiving end of that scrutiny.

Cassian does sigh, a little. Of course she'd take them all. ] Five, at least let me have five grapes.

[ He is haggling over grapes, how did this become his life? At the idea of 'relaxing' he sighs. ]

I don't know the last time I watched a holofilm.

One. [ she'd get such less enjoyment from bickering about grapes if it didn't seem to be so enjoyable on his end as well. ]

If I had to guess, I would say the last time you watched a holofilm was twenty years ago. [ he'd been with the alliance that long so it served to reason he hadn't seen one since his parents were still alive. her chest twists uncomfortably with the unhappy reminder that their lives are awful, his more than hers. ] Is that yes to dinner in bed so I don't have to talk to anyone else?

Three. Who is laid up here? [ It's fine, it's...fun, to argue about something pointless, but he also really wants some grapes and she is being! Difficult!

(not really but he really does want them) ]

Sounds about right. [ He gives her a nudge with his arm. ] Yes, dinner in bed.

My scars are all emotional, [ she parries offhandedly, however true it is. she's not really going to argue trauma though since the most recent of hers she shares with him and he did bear the brunt of the physical injury on top of that. but she finally admits defeat and gives in. ] Three.

[ as they come up in the compound, jyn gestures toward their little cluster of rooms. ] I'll get dinner if you want to... Now don't fuss, but you could use a bath. [ she echoes his nudge with her own, teasing but at the same time... not. he just exerted himself a lot!

and for his hard work she will have an entire fat cluster of grapes waiting just for him. ]

[ Cassian has no immediate response other than to give her a soft snort, like they're not both an emotional trainwreck going downhill without brakes. He's glad they aren't continuing that particular thread.] Thank you.

[ It's true that Cassian needs a bath, or at the very least, water that is not high in mineral content plus soap. ] This is me, not fussing. [ In part because it's sensible, in part because he's too tired to actually be that stubborn about much of anything.

So inside he goes, gingerly stripping out of his clothes in order to bathe. When he's done, towel wrapped around his hips and hair tousled but mostly dry, there she is.

With grapes.

A smirk on his face and he pops one into his mouth before rummaging around for pants to wear. Everything's soft and clean and very much the opposite of the kind of gear he's used to.

It's weird. But nice. But weird. ]

What's the genre for the evening?

They only had musicals. [ so expect the space opera version of singing in the rain. there is more food on a nearby table. as much as she would love to subsist only on grapes, they did make her take additional food back to their rooms. it's untouched by jyn's lack of appetite, but it's there.

while cassian is dressing, jyn slides off her bed and pads over to his. sure they have their own but like binary stars slowly orbiting each other, jyn refused to let him get even that far. showers are the longest time she can bear apart, chest growing tight and panic welling in her throat otherwise. she sweeps a blanket over her shoulders like a child playacting at wearing a jedi's cloak, pulling her legs up to sit stiff and cross legged while she tries not to look at all of his injuries. they're so much more apparent when he is clean and dry. ]

...what. [ Cassian sighs, glancing at her over his shoulder before he shakes his head and manages his way into a pair of loose-fitting pants. The shirt, he can do without; raising his arms over his head is the opposite of comfortable right now, and he can feel her gaze slide over him.

He hasn't seen his back in a while, but he knows he's an expanse of scars.

Pants on (and only a brief moment of flashing! look he doesn't feel like moving too quickly right now, okay?) and towel now over his shoulders, he makes his way to half sit, half recline next to her, taking a handful of grapes with him. ]

We should make a game of it. For every terrible stilted kiss, a strawberry.

Hopefully there will be no kisses on screen. [ however deliberate a qualification that was, she doesn't seem to put any emphasis on it, shifting her blanket in an attempt to drape it over him. in case he prefers something a little softer and drier.

she reads the holofilm slip with her other hand: ] Beyond the Crystaline Sea: a rolicking musical adventure featuring the exploits of dashing rogue -- [ she snorts ] -- Aldorh Coul and the zany cast of characters he meets along the way. [ a beat, a face, a sigh. ] Well, it sounds...

[ terrible. ]

There's a 'dashing rogue' if there's not a kiss on screen I'll be shocked. Shocked, I say. [ He knows how these stupid feel-good movies go, there's always a romance.

Cassian snorts at the synopsis, tucking himself beneath her blanket and shifting to lean against her a little. ]

Might as well fire her up.

[ There's a 50/50 chance he'll try and get her to eat something while they watch. ]

[ jyn shakes her head with restrainted laughter at his declaration of shock, welcoming into her blanket as she presses play on the horrible movie. ]

Here goes.

[ it may well be rubbish, we just don't know. after a bit her stiffness seems to fade, legs unfolding to curl to the side beneath her, fingers absently playing through cassian's hair. after the seventh strawberrry and about half way through the movie jyn complains in dramatic fashion, sinking down deeper into the bed until she becomes one with the blankets and can't see the film: ]

How has he got time for so many inappropriately timed... interludes? [ she rolls over to press her face into a pillow, curling around it. ] Horrible film.

[ Cassian gives a little snort, smoothing what he can see of her hair from her blanket-cuddle-pile. ] It could be worse, it could have a target audience of adults, not families.

[ Which would mean a lot worse than 'interludes', which have the grace, at least, to fade to black and show tousled hair and rumpled bedcovers as indicators. ]

We can turn it off.

[ the music wasn't even the most offensive part to her, which was a horrifying realization. if being a rogue -- dashing or not -- was that easy, jyn thinks she would have had a much more fulfilling life. also the acting was horrid.

muffled from the pillow: ] And do what?

Talk. Not sleep. [ Because they don't, not really, especially now that he's flat out refused sedatives. ] Write terrible poetry. Swap recipes. Fool around. Read. Whatever.

My poetry is transcendent, you just don't understand it. [ she's 100% teasing because any poetry from jyn would be akin to "roses are red, bantha milk is blue, fuck you". but one of the suggestions is enough to make her head pop up, disheveled. ]

You could read to me.

[ jyn erso may be a citizen of the universe -- a worlds traveler and a wily little criminal -- but she is not immune to cassian's beautiful accent. ]

I can read to you. [ He smiles; she looks a sight, and his chest constricts at it. ] What would you like me to read?

Edited 2016-12-20 21:56 (UTC)

[ his dimples will be her undoing, a breath of a smile touching her own lips, eyes brightening. she kicks out absently and just knocks the holodeck off the table, the automatic shut off plunging them into sudden brief silence that jyn breaks with a whisper. ]

Anything. [ she licks her lips and continues, no longer whispering, but voice still low. ] I haven't looked at many of the books here.

Alright. [ He's been reading off and on, randomly, whatever they have that isn't news reports, and so he reaches behind him for one of the datapads and opens to a page at random. ]

On the third day of rain they had killed so many crabs inside the house that Pelayo had to cross his drenched courtyard and throw them into the sea, because the newborn child had a temperature all night and they thought it was due to the stench. The world had been sad since Tuesday. Sea and sky were a single ash-gray thing and the sands of the beach, which on March nights glimmered like powdered light, had become a stew of mud and rotten shellfish.

The light was so weak at noon that when Pelayo was coming back to the house after throwing away the crabs, it was hard for him to see what it was that was moving and groaning in the rear of the courtyard. He had to go very close to see that it was an old man, a very old man, lying face down in the mud, who, in spite of his tremendous efforts, couldn’t get up, impeded by his enormous wings.

[ jyn settles in to listen, the kind of rapt attention that people had given to her when she was making her plea to action in finding the plans for the death star. her nose does crinkle up at only three days of rain being such a hardship for pelayo, three days is nothing, but she is otherwise easily engaged in the story. ]

Wings?

Wings. [ Casdian smiles, soft and fond. ]

Frightened by that nightmare, Pelayo ran to get Elisenda, his wife, who was putting compresses on the sick child, and he took her to the rear of the courtyard. They both looked at the fallen body with a mute stupor. He was dressed like a ragpicker. There were only a few faded hairs left on his bald skull and very few teeth in his mouth, and his pitiful condition of a drenched great-grandfather took away any sense of grandeur he might have had. His huge buzzard wings, dirty and half-plucked, were forever entangled in the mud. They looked at him so long and so closely that Pelayo and Elisenda very soon overcame their surprise and in the end found him familiar.

Then they dared speak to him, and he answered in an incomprehensible dialect with a strong sailor’s voice. That was how they skipped over the inconvenience of the wings and quite intelligently concluded that he was a lonely castaway from some foreign ship wrecked by the storm. And yet, they called in a neighbor woman who knew everything about life and death to see him, and all she needed was one look to show them their mistake.

[ under her breath she tries to repeat elisenda with the same soft lilt of cassian's but her accent is straight outta coruscant nursery school still and she falls short.

as he reads, she slowly shifts until she's laying down with her head on his thigh, letting out a derisive sounding snort when he mentions a woman who knew everything about life and death. bullshit. ]

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