realists | open ✧ the time to fight is now

[ He swallows and his expression shutters a little. He'd like nothing more than to withdraw from this conversation completely, now, but he imagines how he'd feel if she did the same and purses his lips, looking towards the horizon. ]

I was born on Fest. Nothing but snow and metal and people and Ewoks as far as the eye could see. It was always cold, the air was often toxic, because they were developing phrik there.

My parents died during the civil war, [ and now his eyes turn back to her ] so. Not really.

[ that was... worse than she was expecting, honestly, but she already knew he was an orphan, she'd only been hoping it had happened later in life. it made sense that the rebellion took in people with nothing else. they had so little to lose. saw had used similiar recruiting techniques. ]

I'm sorry, Cassian.

[ There wasn't a whole hell of a lot of distinction between what drew people to the Rebellion and what drew people to Saw Gerrara, in Cassian's mind, but he wasn't thinking about that. Instead he was touching his lips, looking at her. ]

Thank you.

[ He swallows, suddenly uncertain. ]

What do you miss?

I don't miss snow, [ she murmurs with something like a laugh. ] We weren't on Vallt long enough for me to even remember, thankfully. I don't think I want to remember being born in prison. But I remember Lah'mu and Coruscant. I miss the rains. [ down in africa ] It was always raining on Lah'mu, my mother would chase my father and I through the fields, just coated in mud. My pants were always stained with grass and mud. My father would build me mud statues and hide them in the house to dry... [ she hums a nostalgic sort of noise, expression sad but touched with a soft sort of smile. ]

[ He has to smile, imagining her younger and at least somewhat unaware of the looming threat, surrounded by loving parents, warm laughter. His own parents are a series of snapshots of quickly-fading memory - his mother coughing while she brushed her hair, his father's hands showing him how to thrust a knife if he had to - and his childhood had none of that warm comfort.

War is all he's known, and suddenly Cassian found himself worried that it was all he could ever have, or keep. Instead of letting it overshadow the moment, he reached for her hand again. ]

And what do you want?

Rain. All my memories of my family are in the rain, even Eadu. It's... it's absurd but I keep thinking that maybe if it rains I'll remember something else and I can have my father back.

[ she shakes her head, abruptly deciding that is more than enough weakness for one day. ] Barring that I had a doll I left behind when we ran. I'd quite like that back.

We could always go back and look for it. [ Completely serious, here; she let him in and he appreciates that, more than he knows how to express, so instead he raises her hand to his lips. ]

I'll swim and then we'll divvy up the rest of the food. Sound good?

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.

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