( closed ) this year taught me how it feels to be lost and ambitious

[diametrically]

Who: Cassian & various
When: September to October
Where: Around Thorne and the Horizon
What: Catch-all for September and October
Warnings: N/A, will update accordingly

🌌 💫 🌃
( closed starters below! ↓ reach out on discord @ cardialloyed for plotting! )

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— september

[diametrically]

— river 🌌 castle thorne, backdated to august

[diametrically]

[ Despite the effects of his sleep deprivation beginning to settle in, Cassian begins to notice something is really off when he feels the chill run up his spine and instead of it leaving, it persists. He knows someone is watching him, trailing him silently through the castle halls, through the grounds and into Nott. It drives his paranoia through the roof leaving his nerves raw. It's like he had never left home.

He's under no disillusion that it makes him unpleasant company to be with as a result. An already quiet demeanour turns heavy and morse and sleep eludes him. The only saving grace to all of this is that Merrin has seemingly returned home which means their once shared room is now vacant save for an angry kitten and his ghosts.

Cassian doesn't particularly believe in ghosts. But what else could they be if not that? Why else would he wake in a sweat every time he finally drifts off to sleep only to be woken a moment later with visions of his loved ones burned into the back of his eyes, filling every corner of the room?

Tonight he wakes with a shout calling out Maarva's name, sending Bob Cat hissing and spitting off of his place at the foot of his bed and right towards the small lump sleeping in the bed across from him. It occurs to him that River had opted to sleep in his room this evening and he hopes that he hadn't woken her. But that's probably wishful thinking and a fleeting thought as he curls into a ball in an attempt to steady his breathing and stop himself from shaking. ]

[thoughts]

[ sleep has never come easy for river. of course, this was by design; 'we do some of our best work while they're sleeping,' and how is she supposed to tell the difference when her memories are nightmares and everyone else's dreams are poison? cassian hasn't been sleeping well since - well, since ever, but it's been especially bad of late. tensions have been high across the kingdom, fear and paranoia and death inching ever closer to their hearts.

it's been eating him alive from the inside and tonight, it burns through them both as river abruptly sits up in her bed and shouts at the same time that cassian cries maarva's name. ]

Go!

[ her eyes are wide and unseeing, somewhere in that halfway lucid state of dreaming as more words spill out of her. ]

Go on, I want you to go - want you to go on.

[ her heart races and awareness comes to her slowly, mostly in the form of bob cat climbing into her lap in active disregard of her elevated state. she feels soft fur beneath her fingertips and remembers whose room she's in, whose dreams she was having, and then river finally turns to the other bed in the room. ]

Kassa? [ a beat later, with maarva's image on her mind and the name she gave him - ] Cassian?

[ she knows he's awake but she doesn't leave her bed, staring at the back of the curled up ball in his bed instead as she wonders if he would consider this memory of his mother a dream or a nightmare. ]

[diametrically]

[ His name, the name his mother gave him all those years ago on Kenari, makes him flinch despite himself. A part of him almost snaps at River, tells her that she shouldn't be calling him that within these walls or utter ever while they remain here in this world but he catches himself before it leaves his lips. The sharpness isn't something she deserves. Not when he'd woken her up and when she was merely checking on him out of concern.

There's a beat where he doesn't reply, drawing in a haggard breath instead in an attempt to steady his voice. In his head he tells himself it's fine. It's just a dream and nothing more. An unpleasant one, but a dream nonetheless. This world and its gods wouldn't trick him into believing that Maarva had died any other way than peacefully after one act of defiance. ]

I'm okay. Sorry. Go back to sleep.

[thoughts]

[ it lances through her anyway, the hurt that lingers in his silence. then he says 'i'm okay' and really, at this point, he should know better than to lie to a psychic.

river stares at his back for a long moment, steadying her and breath and waiting for the light to fade from her veins. a trait they now share, connected across the infinite cosmos and distant galaxies and the distance between two beds. she doesn't give him any warning before crossing the dorm room to place a reluctant bob cat directly on top of where cassian is curled up beneath the blankets. the cat gives a low noise of discontent until river lays down too, at which point he eagerly settles into the scant space between them.

the beds provided by the castle aren't overly large and maybe she's too old to be doing something as childish as crawling into someone else's bed after a bad dream. but river has always seemed younger than she really is and this is what she would do with simon, sometimes, when the nightmares are at their worst.

she didn't get permission and she'll leave if he wants her to, but instead, river stares at the back of cassian's head and asks: ]

What did she do to help, when you had bad dreams?

[ tonight, he cried out for his mother and woke up in a castle far away from home, with a sister that is not his curled up beside him. what was it like for him as a child, to wake up in another world where all he had was maarva? ]

— percy & annabeth 🌌 borrel

[diametrically]

[ The decision to leave the castle always been a flicker of an idea in the back of his mind ever since he had arrived here in Abraxas in the dead of winter. At the time all he had cared about was getting home to his galaxy, back to the fight that he had committed himself to after finally having the blindfold ripped off him. But then his bleeding heart had made connections to the Summoned and those around him.

His desire to leave has never wavered or changed. But his definition of what leaving looked like while he was here had. Cassian knew that he could no longer leave and disappear like he was so used to doing in the past. There were people he cared for now. People he had made promises to that he was unwilling to break.

It's strange for him to feel as conflicted and guilty as he does now. The entire trip to Borrel for one last fishing trip with Percy and Annabeth before the autumn chill sets in has him quieter than he normally would be. The feeling in the pit of Cassian's stomach is akin to the way he'd told Maarva that he had been leaving Niamos which doesn't bode well for him. Not because he worries about their reactions to the news he's about to tell them but because leaving once before had thrown him into the eye of a storm that he had barely begun to climb out of, dragging along those he loved into it as well.

He waits until the pair of them are in the boat they'd rented for the day before hopping in himself and pulling the anchor up. ]

Ready to set out?

[seaweedbrain]

[ By nature, Percy enjoys a good fishing trip. Obviously he does, his dad is the god of the sea, and Percy can — and has — literally talked to the fish. And the eels, and nymphs and cyclopes, and the mythical creatures that call the ocean their home.

It's fine, don't worry about it.

He can't help but remember the last time he'd gone fishing with Cassian too — they'd been different people then. Godly and eight hundred or so years older, and Percy had been so disconnected from the person he's comfortable being now that it still sends him reeling when he considers it for more than a moment, even now. But he remembers how familiar it felt, how close they'd been even when they didn't really know each other before then.

Talk about an icebreaker, huh?

It's easy enough for Percy to climb into the boat anyway; and he's on his feet, balancing without difficulty and feeling the stillness of the water's waves beneath him to hold a hand out to Annabeth, to help her in.

Once settled, he gives Cassian the thumbs up. ]

Hope you brought your A-game 'cause the fish aren't going to make it easy for us today.

[ Does he know that for certain? Who knows? ]

[sophos]

[ annabeth's not the biggest fan of fishing out there, but she is a big fan of percy and cassian both, so that's what has her agreeing to give it a whirl today. she might have packed a book in her bag, in case she gets bored. ]

[ she takes percy's hand easily to help lift herself into the boat, giving his fingers a squeeze once her feet are planted firmly inside. ]

Did they tell you that? Should we be re-scheduling?

[ she's mostly teasing, making her way over to pick what she perceives as the best seat in the boat. she doesn't even think about helping handle any of the boating needs, because usually being on a boat with percy means he does everything. it's very easy on her part. ]

[diametrically]

[ Cassian can say quite confidently that it had been a very long time since he had fished. Kenari had some lakes but they never really ventured out onto boats. They hadn't seen a need for it when what few fish remained in that lake would bite all the same if they were fishing from the shore. And while Ferrix was all rocky outcrops and mountain ranges, he never really bothered to go fishing in the oceans there. He'd never had much of an interest after Clem died.

It's entirely possible he could have gone the rest of his life not having any interest in fishing again. But then their time in the dream happened and he'd be lying if she said that he now came to see the activity as something that he associated with a distinct sense of calm thanks to Percy's influence. That's part of the reason he chooses this activity. The other is that he knows Percy likes it. And as for Annabeth? She likes Percy.

He huffs at the banter but continues with his task before settling down, assuming like Annabeth that Percy would handle it all. That's what he remembers him doing anyway.

Following off Annabeth's question he adds one of his own aimed at Percy. ]

Isn't that we have you for?

— river & yennefer 🌌 nott

[diametrically]

[ They leave the castle as the sun begins to set. True to what they had told those that needed to know that they were leaving, there was no particular rhyme or reason that they choose this day to slip through the portal with their (minimal) worldly belongings on their back. Similar to the Summoned who had left before them for Nott, the less that people knew the better. Plausible deniability was as good a defence as any and if they left without fanfare then the best case scenario they could hope for was Thorne leaving those they associate with alone. And besides that, they were both anxious to leave and put even just a little bit of space between them and the ever watchful eyes there.

They act as normal as they can, the guards seeming none the wiser. They barely blinking as "Alyx" and River make their way for what looks like a night in Nott dressed as plainly as they can. It's a camping trip, Cassian explains when they see the bulk and heft of his two packs; one is filled with his and River's clothes while the other is Bob Cat's dismantled cat tower made to look like camping equipment.

The only thing that might raise some eyebrows would have been Bob Cat - but thankfully they had figured putting him to sleep in a satchel with his toys and treats carried by River would keep him quiet enough until they arrived at their destination. Once they're through and they've put some distance between the portal Cassian pauses, casting a glance towards River. ]

Do you know where we're going?

[thoughts]

[ the decision to leave isn't a frivolous one; river has been thinking about it since the night of the coup, from the moment yennefer knocked on her bedroom door and a wave of despair crashed over her. her heart aches for all that they're leaving behind. her studies, her friends, istredd, wǒ huí shǒu wàng jiān lí -

but cassian is here with her, going on this adventure together as they promised each other they would, and they'll be reunited with yennefer soon. away from the castle, with the people she loves and trusts the most, this is her best option right now. so river takes a deep breath, clutches the basket in her arms that carries the sleeping bob cat, and shakes her head. ]

No.

[ they've been careful when they visit, avoiding highly public spaces and never where yennefer has been staying. but river seems unperturbed; if they truly needed instructions, surely they would've been given at some point. she doesn't know where they're going, exactly, but she thinks she knows how to get there.

so she simply starts walking. even at this time of night, there are still plenty of people out, like guards and workers on the docks, bright taverns and inns with their various patrons, and plenty of skulking figures in dark alleyways. river takes it all in with wide eyes as she guides cassian along what might seem like an ambling path with no real direction. it's hard to explain how it works, how she can tell where yennefer has been or what buildings she passes most often, faint impressions of her that linger long after she's gone.

eventually, she stops in front of a building with a strange certainty that this is the one. river stares at the windows and reaches out mentally instead of knocking on the door. ]

Yennefer.

[ a telepathic we're here, if you will. without saying anything aloud, she looks to cassian over her shoulder and makes a face, nodding toward the door as though urging him to be the one that goes up and knocks. he's the adult here, after all!! ]

[diametrically]

[ Not knowing where Yennefer had decided to settle with Thancred and Stephen had been by design as well. So long as they remained at the castle, the less they knew the better. Not just for their own sakes but for those that had already gone ahead of them. He isn't so arrogant to think that he and River are influential in any way. It's his nature to stay unassuming and out of the way, preferring to observe or if he had to do things, he would do things that weren't memorable. But he knows better. He's learned both at home and here that if he feels a prickle on the back of his neck, it's because someone is watching. Even if they aren't physically there. 

Just because they had made it this far doesn't mean that the castle isn't aware of them slipping away in the night. Cassian can only hope that they aren't tracking them down and that if they are reported missing they'd be easily written off. That's the hope anyway.

It's why he doesn't question River when she begins to walk. He trusts her and the bond she and Yennefer share. River navigating means that he can be left to be hyper aware of their surroundings, keeping his dagger close and an ear out for any sound or hint of someone following them. He wouldn't endanger River. And he wouldn't endear the Nott Summoned.

When they come to a stop and River stares up at it with those big eyes of hers, it dawns on him that they may be here. But then she turns to him with that look on her face and it cuts some of the tension like a knife. He almost cracks a smile. That expression is enough to give him a hint and he reaches out to give the door a sharp rap with his knuckles, putting her slightly behind him just in case. ] 

— annabeth & percy, questing time 💫 nott

[diametrically]

[ While he would never admit that the prospect of leaving Annabeth and Percy behind in the castle is difficult for him, not even all of the affection that he has for them can erase the usual mix of annoyance and exasperation he feels. What is causing these particular feelings to rise you may ask? Somehow he's been dragged into trying to complete a bizarre task with them. One that involves (allegedly) haunted dolls.

He'd heard the rumors and whispering about dolls going missing but he hadn't paid much mind to it himself. Cassian didn't have any interest in toys let alone dolls. And seeing as they could leave any day now, he isn't about to volunteer himself for something that didn't quite make sense to do. But Annabeth and Percy had other ideas.

Or rather, two demigods nearly half his age and some combination of the universe, the Singularity or whatever stupid gods out there had deemed it fit to have a whole toy store's supply of dolls go missing. And of course they were the ones that were tasked with finding them. ]

The owner didn't say where we could find the dolls? That we just have to look?

[sophos]

[ for all her mixed feelings on cassian being in nott, she still sees him with semi-frequency, and questing to figure out the creepy doll mystery with him feels like a non-issue. he agreed! clearly he doesn't have any qualms with it either. if he didn't deep down appreciate percy and annabeth's tomfoolery, he wouldn't keep agreeing to it. ]

[ she does what she deems an appropriate amount of reconnaissance on the task at hand before the three of them meet up to officially start - though there really hadn't been much more to go on besides 'find the strange and creepy missing dolls.' she feels like she saw this plotline in a horror novel or something. ]

If they knew where they dolls were, they probably wouldn't be asking us to find them. Maybe we just have to think like a creepy doll.

[ because that's obviously something people can have experience in. ]

[seaweedbrain]

Think like a creepy doll?

[ Honestly, Percy had thought this whole quest was supposed to be a prank on the silly Summoned who foolishly volunteered to go for it, but then all the shopkeepers looked so earnest and their sob-stories were starting to sound less like sob-stories and more like ... well, stories.

So what could they do but agree, right? Dragging Cassian along for the ride seemed like a good last hurrah before they really went their semi-separate ways, and Percy still feels kinda weird about it but only because this whole place still feels too new, too foreign, too full of unknowns. So sue him for wanting to keep his favourite people and familiar faces near at all times to better protect them. ]

Yeah, sure, okay, I'll just channel my inner-Chuckie. What are the rules on heads turning three-sixty degrees? 'Cause I might have some trouble with that one.

— october 💫

[diametrically]

— the doctor 💫 the horizon

[diametrically]

[ So much had happened since the dream that it feels like Cassian's sense of time has been distorted with it. And while he had mostly dealt with it by simply ignoring it, there had been plenty of things in the present day that required his attention.

Even he understands that there's only so much that he can avoid however. There are still loose ends - people - from the dream, that he didn't know what to make of. And now that his life is as settled as it can be when someone is on the run and hiding from soldiers that may or may not be looking for them, he thinks he can have a moment to start gathering those loose ends.

The message to the Doctor had been brief, albeit a bit awkward on his part. Of course in the Doctor's typical manner that he recalls, the man hadn't batted an eyelash when asked if they could meet in the Horizon and chat. The last place Cassian expects to find the TARDIS however is up lodged in one of the trees that had sprung up in his domain overnight.

While he's grown taller and heavier, his body still remembers how to climb trees from his days as a young boy on Kenari. It's how he manages to pull himself up into the TARDIS. When he catches his breath and takes a proper look around he realizes that this thing is far bigger than he'd expected and when the Doctor eventually notices him or realizes he's there, he'll find Cassian looking around with a mild air of awe. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Never one to sit still, the Doctor isn't quite in the console room when Cassian enters. Perhaps he should have been milling about near there, knowing he was coming by soon. It might have been the proper thing, but not the Doctor's thing by any means. He'd been delighted to hear from him, as he is with all people he has even an iota of positive feelings towards (which is also...most people), and at least for now, none of that delighted feeling is at all hampered by whatever happened in that dream and the fact they haven't really spoken since then.

He hasn't just completely ignored it, but perhaps as a result of his own experience and his travels, he has a different perspective on the dream than some. Maybe he shouldn't make up his own reality about it and completely ignore the implications, but that's also a point of view that's often suited him well over the years.

— by a certain definition of the words, suited him well.

In any case, he's thrilled to see him, but he's actually not bothering to be there to greet him straight away. He's in the observatory, tweaking a few things so he can show Cassian when he arrives. At some point it occurs to him he might want to check to see if he's there, so he does eventually bump into him and he acts like they're already halfway into a conversation, a bright grin on his face as he makes a move to clap a hand to his shoulder. ]

Well! What do you think? I've redecorated a bit — not that you'd know or be able to compare, but — well done, eh? I'm glad you're here.

[diametrically]

[ The Doctor's voice signals his arrival and Cassian turns to look at him. His gaze goes briefly towards the hand on his shoulder. It would have been easy for him to gently move away from it, but he doesn't. Instead he allows it to remain there, a sense of familiarity from a life they hadn't really lived coming over him. Quietly, it's his own way of saying that it's good to see him too after the mindful distance that he'd put between them.

The same awe that he'd had on his face from before manages to creep into his voice even though everything he knows about space craft dictates that this shouldn't be possible. ]

It's bigger on the inside.

[ After a moment his gaze goes back to the Doctor. ]

How is that possible?

— carmy & percy 💫 nott

[diametrically]

[ When Cassian had taken up smuggling and started building up his contacts in the black market, he didn't think that one of the first thing he'd bring in from the Free Cities would be a blender. Or rather, the blueprints for a blender and some of its parts. Not that he particularly cares. Smuggling was something he'd fallen back into as a means of survival. This business wasn't something he took seriously or felt any particular joy from. It was a job plain and simple.

But he'd be lying if he said that this whole blender business wasn't a little self-indulgent as much as it was Percy and Carmy.

Which is why once he's managed to assemble it together and ensure that it works, he sends a message to the pair of them to meet him in Nott at a nondescript cafe just off the beaten path. The palace guards rarely passed through (he'd sat there and watched and made note of it) and if they did it was a cursory glance and nothing more.

Cassian sees them enter from a table in the back corner and waves them over, hauling the device in the box onto the table. ]

No one followed you here?

[emulsions]

[ When Cassian promised him a whole ass blender, Carmy doesn't put a lot of stock in it. Not that he doubts the guy, just, you know, expectations, reality, all that. It kind of sounds insane to be living outta Hogwarts and somebody tells him that they can put together a Vitamix in the fishing town across the kingdom.

So color him fucking surprised when he gets the note that it's actually ready.

He throws on his jacket and hops the portal. Cassian might've mentioned something about being careful, but Carmy's idea of careful and Cassian's are clearly not on the same fucking page because he takes in that question with a blink. ]

Uh...shit. [ He glances over his shoulder, then back. ] No? No, I don't think so.

[ They're probably fine, yeah? Like, it's a fuckin' blender. What're they gonna arrest him for, pureeing the butternut squash too goddamn fast? ]

[seaweedbrain]

[ To say Percy's freakin' excited would be an understatement. He's never been more excited about a household appliance until he was kidnapped into a world where the stuff he's used to, the stuff he's never even imagined a world without was suddenly ... well, without.

He remembers the sound of his mom's blender back home in their cozy little Manhattan apartment, how she'd use it for milkshakes and smoothies and soup bases. It's almost a nostalgic sound at this rate.

His joining the table consists of a performance: it's acting super casual, it's looking around but pretending that he isn't looking around, and it's slipping into the last empty seat at the table when he's certain no one's looking. He doubts anyone would care about a blender either??? Like, it's barely even a weapon unless you chucked the whole thing at someone's head, and then maybe you'd concuss them at best, and break the blender at worst. But Cassian's message sparked some inspiration in him to treat this like he's been invited to some kind of top secret mission, and after spending months here, sometimes it's kinda fun to be a little stupid. ]

Oh, yeah. I got this espionage stuff down, man. So. You got the goods?

[ Is he still acting? Yeah, okay, maybe a little. ]

— jack 🦝 i do what i want

[stations]

( Picture it: Sicily, 1922 — wait, no. That's not right. Picture it: August, at the tail end of the Herald's second rising. Is it a flashback? Is time linear? These are things science just can't explain yet.

Anyway, this is what it looks like if you can get over semantics such as time and chronology and the sequence of events and how late is too late to tell a story: two soggy men step off two separate boats at two separate times. Both of them on similar missions, both of them with varying amounts of success, but not with one another. Both of them exhausted, and trudging quietly up the cobbled streets that run adjacent to the sea shore.

One of them happens to have a prosthetic leg, and consequently might walk just a little more slowly than the other, making him a little too easy to catch up to, whether it be accidentally or on purpose. Jack's inclined to assume the former, the moment he properly, directly sees the look on Cassian's face.

He looks--

Haunted.

As someone with resting apathy face, who rarely projects his emotions and frequently denies even having them in the first place, it's often jarring for him when he looks into the eyes of somebody that's actually expressive sometimes. It certainly helps his occasionally spotty tendency to miss social cues or blank on people's general vibe. Maybe it's lingering, faded memories of fake lifetimes, or maybe it's character growth, or maybe Jack's brain is just more functional now than it used to be three or four books years ago. Whatever the case, he looks at Cassian and knows almost instantly that something's very wrong.

To clarify: almost instantly, unfortunately, means right after conjuring the party blower and wheezing out a weak celebratory little toot. Because he's pretty sure he remembers it being Cassian's birthday recently, and he forgot until seeing him, and birthday instinct beat out recognize emotions and express empathy instinct, and now-

Well, now it all sort of finally finishes resolving, and the party blower's streamer goes limp and sad, hanging from the plastic mouthpiece as Jack pulls it away to furrow his brow. His hair drips. His clothes sag, soaked and heavy. It's all very Sad Clown. )

Ha-( -ppy birthd- )...ey, are you okay?

[diametrically]

[ Having a panic attack on a boat in the middle of a storm isn't exactly how Cassian had pictured his day going. But if he wondered what he was doing on a boat in the first place, he definitely wonders  what the hell Jack was doing there. Jack is more than capable in his own way of handling himself. That won't stop Cassian from worrying though - even if he is reluctant to admit as much despite how he keeps an eye on the man from afar.

Afar really isn't in the cards today when he spots that familiar gait ahead of him as they make their way back up to the castle, soggy, wet and miserable. Something urges him ahead to catch up and check on Jack despite everything that he had just been through. Time and being pulled to a completely different world hadn't changed Cassian's propensity to put others ahead of himself. Except when he arrives at his side the last thing he expects is to have a party blower toot weakly in his face. 

For a moment Cassian can do nothing but blink in shock until it slowly settles into an expression that is a dead ringer for the BenAfflecksmokingmeme. ] 

...It's been a long day. [ There's another pause as he seems to take in the sad little party blower and something else shifts in his expression. ] How did you remember my birthday? 

[stations]

( Ah, yes, cool — he has, once again, made things immediately awkward with this man. Jack would like to imagine somewhere out there, there's an alternate universe with a version of events where their first impression was smooth, where they had a pleasant conversation, where they got to know one another in a very normal context, and where Jack's pet raccoon never initiated a game of keep-away with a fish.

Unfortunately, that world is not this world, and he's left delicately pulling the party blower out of his mouth, feeling for the thousandth time like a fucking idiot. One day, ever, in the duration of the time that they know each other, he's going to demonstrate some semblance of competence in front of Cassian — or he's going to yeet himself directly into the sun. )

Well, to be honest with you, my memory's... kind of weird. I can forget formative, super important moments and yet somehow totally remember a date I'm pretty sure you told me one time in a reality that never actually happened. It's annoying, and incredibly unhelpful, and also... possibly not the most important thing happening right now?

( He thoughtlessly offers the party blower over, just in case the not-quite-Birthday Boy is, for some unknowable reason, interested in keeping it. )

You look like you just got run over by a truck made entirely of emotions. What happened?