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

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

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

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

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( 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?

[ 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?

( 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?

[ Truthfully whatever incredulousness and annoyance Cassian may have had towards Jack has long since weathered away. It's truly the last thing he associates with the man anymore. Or rather, there's less of it that he associates with him now than he did before. And even if that were the case it's hard to be those things when it feels like he's been put through a meat grinder and spit out again.

And funnily enough (and maybe because of the meat grinder experience) the offered party blower brings him a small spark of joy because it looks like how he feels. After a moment he takes it from him with a faint lift of the corner of his lips. ]

It's possible I would have forgotten it if you hadn't said it so. Thank you.

[ He pockets it to do what with later he isn't certain but at least it won't just end up in the trash. It offers him a moment of pause to think about Jack's question and how he wants to go about answering it. Or if he even wants to. With so many of his walls down already, he relents. ]

While we were on the ship I saw visions of people I know from home.

[ It's a small fib. He's been seeing them everywhere actually out of the corner of his eye. ]

I almost dove overboard to save someone that wasn't there.

( You know, he'd half expected Cassian to wave him off the party blower. Kind of nice that he takes it, strangely.

He tucks his now-free hands into his pockets as they walk, his already slow gait dropping just a little as his limited processing power diverts to navigating this conversation instead. Jack's got kind of a limit on brain RAM, he can only allocate it to so many things at one time. Walking and unpacking the deeper layers beneath complicated moments requires a little adjustment at the cost of speed. The alternative is losing grace, and he'd really rather not eat the dirt in an almighty faceplant right now.

There's a reason he went on this trip with Kyle, though — he is good at a few things. Weirdness and magic are under that umbrella, and the value he brought to this expedition definitely wasn't in his ability to rescue-swim with a prosthetic leg. It was in the tracking spell that other mages refused to continue performing, it was in locating the survivors without being dissuaded by the visions it brought on. He spent a fair amount of time today getting lost in the sauce, and while he was under, he saw them, too. People, bodies — mostly strangers, but... not all of them.

He understands, and that understanding flickers subtly across his features. His eyes drift toward the ground for a few moments so he can think while he talks, because his speaking eloquently and reading emotions through facial expressions mechanisms tend to be at odds, too. He can't actually turn off the latter while he's trying to do the former, it's a little too automatic, so... eye contact with the ground for a hot second. )

Something about the water, or whatever- whoever- did this, was screwing with a lot of people. Messing with magic, or with our minds, sometimes both. I gotta hand it to them, it was pretty convincing. I think it focused on people we've lost, or who are important to us.

( Only then does he lift his eyes to Cassian again, studying him quietly. )

It played with your heart, nobody can blame you for trying to do something about it, you know?

Edited 2024-10-16 04:12 (UTC)

[ Cassian's own pace is usually faster than the normal person's. It had been forged out of necessity to a certain extent. A childhood on Kenari with its gnarled roots and reaching vines across the forest floor necessitated nimble feet unless you wanted to eat dirt often and frequently. And then after that it was the need to move as quickly as possible through streets and between bodies to avoid being caught. But he slows here, unbothered by having to do so and always keeping an eye out in case Jack does stumble and fall on the uneven road back to the castle.

From the few conversations that he'd had with other Summoned Cassian had come to a similar conclusion. Now would have been a good time as any to draw some sort of comfort from the combined misery that they seemed to be experiencing - but then again he had never really been the sort. He would have vastly preferred that they not experience these strange happenings at all. It was enough having been kidnapped and brought here against their will.

His jaw tightens into a line - not because he disagrees with what Jack is saying but because there's some part of him that bristles against the perceived sympathy being shown to him. It was less about being perceived and more that he's frustrated that it had happened at all. Frustrated that he can't do anything to prevent it. Some of that frustration manages to make its way past his usual restraint. ]

It shouldn't have happened. I -

[ He cuts himself off, remembering himself. ]

Did it happen to you?

( Okay, that's not exactly the reaction he expected to get — not that he's bothered by it, it's more interesting than off-putting. Also, deeply relatable. It sucks that his sentence ended there, Jack's pretty curious where it would've ended. Should he press? He's not very good with stuff like this, knowing where the line is, knowing when he's being insensitive or when he should gently pry. Not for the first time, he wishes he could have absorbed even, like, ten percent of Rosa's people skills. )

Yeah, it happened to me. It's just- I'm kind of used to seeing stuff like that normally, so it... hits me less, I think, than it does other people.

( He's been hallucinating the ghosts of the people he's lost for a very, very long time. He doesn't need the Heralds or Mages or the Singularity for that, and he's got enough exposure therapy by now that he's a little bit immune to the emotional turmoil it brings. Not entirely, but... decently.

But this conversation isn't about him — or at least, it shouldn't be. Cassian was there for him after Sabine disappeared, this is the first time he might actually have an opportunity to repay the favor. )

Hey- just... preemptively, in the interest of transparency, I'm not really the best at being an emotionally comforting person, but that's for sure my goal right now, and I could really use the practice? If you could maybe... humor me a little? If you wanna talk about it. No pressure, obviously, but it would be pretty cool of you.

Edited 2024-10-19 01:59 (UTC)

[ Cassian's frustrations shift away from himself and towards Jack once again. Whether or not this (visions, hallucinations, ghosts - whatever label you wanted to place on this), is normal for Jack doesn't mean that he should have had to experience it.

But before he can say as much, he finds himself surprised again by what comes next. Despite Jack's delivery, Cassian can hear the sincerity woven through it. He's worried about him. And maybe Cassian shouldn't balk so hard against someone's act of kindness.

He can't help himself and lets out a breath that could nearly be a laugh though if it is, it's aimed entirely at himself. It quickly fades after that and after another breath he starts. It's difficult at first. It's clear that he doesn't want to talk about it but once he begins it slowly begins to get easier. At least, that's what he tells himself. ]

I saw my sister. And my mother. And some friends that I left behind before I arrived here. They were alive. [ Well. Most of them. Maarva was now stone and dust and ash and he had failed her and her ghost. ] But I keep seeing them die in different ways and there's nothing I can do to help them.

( He's patient. Quiet, restrained, and gently expectant through the breathy laugh, through the time Cassian takes to finally speak. As someone who tends to do most of his vulnerable exposition-dumping through the written word rather than out loud, he gets the need to take the time to gather up both the thoughts and the willingness to share. The energy it takes, sometimes, to open his mouth about some things is... a lot.

My sister — he remembers, from that brief flash he stole. Mother he's less familiar with; whether it's the woman from that memory or if Cassian means a different mother down there on the planet is a little beyond him, but it's also... not really the point right now. Probably not a detail he should fixate on over the bigger picture, even if that's his tendency. )

Kinda sucks to care about people, doesn't it?

( He volunteers wryly, from the perspective of someone who deliberately isolated himself for nearly five years after his biggest loss. He tried really hard not to care about people for a long time. )

Especially after you realize you can't protect them all from everything forever.

( It's scary to know you could lose it. Scarier to imagine you might be completely helpless when it happens. That there's nothing you can do. That there are forces at work so much bigger than you, so much more powerful, and you're just a fucking guy trying to stay afloat in the storm of it while you're watching people around you drown. )

[ The fear of losing his loved ones has hung over his head like a cloud for as long as he can remember. Ever since he'd been taken from Kenari leaving Kerri behind to an unknown fate, and then again when Clem had tried to stand up for what was right only to lose his life for it. Nemik's unfortunate accident as they sped away from the scene of a heist, Maarva's death, and then sending his friends away on a ship promising that he'd find them again only to end up here.

There is nothing he can do to stop the perpetual motion of life and the Empire and all their machinations, nor can he fully accept or trust that time has simply ceased in their galaxies or home planets. There are only a few things that he knows for certain in his life and something intangible like that will likely never be one of them even though a part of him clings to it like a lifeline.

Because Jack is right. He is really just a fucking guy at the end of the day. And that is made more apparent to him than ever in this moment as he walks beside him sleep deprived and drenched to the bone. ]

It's not the caring that sucks. [ He has always cared for people even when he has been at his worst. Even when he runs away or turns to dust every time in the hopes that it will save those around him. ] It's that. Feeling like you can't do anything to protect them, to keep them from danger.

[ There's more to that feeling though; having that thought loom over him has never stopped him from trying before. But what he experienced on that boat is so unlike anything he's ever felt before. And because he's trying to do this sharing thing, because he and Jack are both trying he continues. ]

But I've never felt this helpless before. I've never felt hopeless.

( Any hint of a smile — sad, wry, or otherwise — disappears from Jack's features. )

I know this is probably gonna sound contrived, but... I know exactly how you feel.

( He'd been there himself, not all that long ago. Cassian might remember - after all, Cassian had been there for it. Had taken the time to sit down beside him, even though he probably smelled terrible and looked terrible and sounded even more terrible than both those terribles put together.

He chews the inside of his cheek, and considers whether or not to put it all into words. He'd never really explained himself back then, and he'd kind of appreciated Cassian not pushing him for more details on it. Doing so now might help Cassian feel a little less alone with what he's going through now.

He breathes out slowly, and takes the dive. )

When you found me in the library, after... everything happened, after Sabine disappeared... I wasn't just a gross, unhinged mess because she left. I mean, that was part of it, but-

( Restart. Back up. )

Her showing up here was supposed to be my second chance to keep her safe. Back home, there was an accident. We were going to travel, we were going to leave the shitty little town we came from and go... anywhere. Somebody rammed us off the road before we even made it out of town limits. Sabine spent five years in a coma, braindead, until she finally passed not long before I came back here. I couldn't have done anything about it back home, not about the accident, or the coma, or her dying, but here... I've been- doing magic, and learning, and trying to- get better, and stronger. I've been trying to become somebody that can save the people I love. But- all the work, and all the classes, and all the fucking magic in the world... it didn't make any difference.

( He shrugs one absent, empty shoulder. )

I fucked it up. Again. I couldn't save her, again. And about the time you showed up is about when I started wondering what the point was. For any of it. For a long time, I really wasn't sure how to bounce back from that. So... yeah. Helpless and hopeless. I get it.

[ Were this conversation happening in somewhat better circumstances Cassian might have made a wry joke about how he definitely hadn't forgotten about finding Jack in the library after Sabine's disappearance from Abraxas - it was hard to when the smell had been seared into his mind. Though in all seriousness, seeing Jack so despondent and uncaring about himself and his state had stuck with him. It had led to the gift baskets left at the door of his room (but maybe care baskets would have been a better name for them since they had been filled with food and dried snacks that wouldn't risk spoiling should he find himself forgetting to eat) and only proved to compound on the feeling of needing to look after him from afar after their time as gods in the dream.

Admittedly he had wondered if all Jack's despondency had been due to heartbreak. It wouldn't be the first time Cassian would have seen that happen to someone and he wouldn't think less of them for it. But hearing him explain why he had looked beyond comfort, hearing Jack be vulnerable with him - he can't help but feel guilty for not trying to be there for him more. For acting on the lingering feelings that urged him to be there for him in more ways than just nameless gift baskets.

But he had made his choice. He had staunchly put up his walls and told Kyle in similar words that he was not the person who should be checking in on Jack despite these made up, dream-like bonds that they had. Comfort should come from those closest to him. Those actually closest to him. At the time that was the closest thing to kindness for a sort of stranger that he could spare Jack. But here he is, showing Cassian more kindness, more vulnerability than he felt he probably deserved. ]

We can't change what's happened in the past. And there's too many variables that are out of our control here, but we can work on doing what we can for the people we care about here now. [ His lips lift slightly. ] If it's worth anything you seem to be doing better. You smell better too.

[ It's difficult for him to offer comfort in that way considering how bad he is at taking his own advice. But it's important, he thinks, for both of them to hear it. As for what happened, placating apologies for Sabine's death seems hollow to him. Instead he stops walking, settling a hand on Jack's shoulder and giving it a squeeze as something genuine reaches through his expression. ]

You helped me. Or a version of me in the dream. I haven't forgotten that. You're helping me now. And I appreciate it. [ His hand lingers for a moment before withdrawing. ] I'm sorry if it's seemed like I don't want anything to do with you. Processing what happened to us...it hasn't been easy.

( When he looks up again, the small smile's back on his face. A little less sad, a little more appreciative, but barely-there because he's never really been one to wear his emotions too visibly. Not unless you know him well enough to know what you're looking for. Everything he feels, even the good things, are usually subdued.

But Jack does actually look better these days. A lot better. Healthier, and more present, and certainly better smelling — although the ocean water and sea salt they've both been drenched in probably isn't helping him live up to his full potential right now.

The point is, he's gotten through it, and out the other end, and right now isn't about comforting Jack. He does let himself slow to a stop, he lets Cassian plant that hand on his shoulder and doesn't shrug it off, but he's not keen to dwell on his sordid history for too long. )

It's okay. I don't blame you. What happened was weird, and if you're not used to that kind of thing... just like the stuff that's been happening lately, it's a lot to take in. But you're right. We can't change the past, we can only try harder so that maybe we can change the future.

( That's why he hasn't given up on learning magic, and that's why he's here today, helping people, using those skills to rescue sailors. As practice. )

So maybe next time, when it really matters... When it's Kyle, or Yen, or you, I'll actually be able to save you for real. That feels a little less helpless and hopeless, to me.

( Just... you know, in case the idea of a reframed perspective helps. Somehow. )

[ At least they're in the same boat of probably needing to get to the baths sooner rather than later. It makes all the commiserating, the shared vulnerability, comforting or whatever it is they wanted to label it, easier. Well, easier for Cassian anyway. And he hopes, in some ways it's easier for Jack too.

He can't help but give Jack a wry look. ]

You know, it's still worrying that what happened to is something you're used to.

[ But as they've both said, there is nothing that can be done about the things that Jack has had to experience up until now. There's nothing that can be done for either of them. Cassian can only hope that it just means that they'll be better equipped somehow, if only mentally. But maybe, in spite of all his stubborn ways, practicing what little magic he did have might not be such a bad idea. Not that he had any - or anything that could be considered useful.

But that itself feels like a thought for another day.

His wry smile turns into something a little bit more genuine as he turns continuing to walk back up the road. ]

Let's hope it doesn't have to happen when there's any real threats. [ Like the threat of drowning and throwing himself overboard. ] Though knowing this place that opportunity might come sooner than we think. I don't know when I'm going to run into Rita again.

( It's still worrying that what happened to is something you're used to; his lips pull up on one side, an echoing wry smile reflected back at Cassian. A little tired, a little knowing, but mostly just... resigned. Yeah, he knows. He agrees. His life is weird, and most of the time very not okay, and he is also very often not okay, but it is what it is. Turns out, you can pretty much get used to anything, with enough time.

He falls into step again — only to falter for a moment, fumble, and super-duper-casually overcorrect. )

Right- haha- yeah, because that... is exactly the same and absolutely nothing has changed, and it wouldn't be way worse than last time, haha, ha. Ha. Um- Listen, for no reason, just to be safe, maybe I should... introduce you to Rita again a few times and just... really make sure you're on her good side.

( This is fine and nothing is suspicious. )

Edited 2024-11-08 22:15 (UTC)

[ Cassian understands that sentiment, though perhaps in just a different way. Like so many around him at home, he had fallen into a complacency. What did it matter what the Empire did so long as they stayed out of their corner of the galaxy? Their politics and their machinations were of little concern to the son of a scrapper who was only trying to care for his aging mother and find his lost sister. That mentality had carried him through all of these years until he had inadvertently become a spark to something much larger than him. Until it had been almost too late to realize that the boot of the Empire had been on his neck for so long that he had just adapted to taking shorter, shallower breaths.

So he does understand. But that doesn't stop him from worrying all the same.

(Though to his credit he doesn't react when Jack falters and corrects himself. But if he had fallen he had been ready to catch him.)

The pause that follows Jack's nervous statement is both in part because he's watching to ensure that Jack is steady on his feet again but also because that sentiment definitely sounded a little too suspicious for his liking. Now it's Cassian's turn to sound suspicious. ]

...What changed?

Nothing!

( He insists, except that his voice squeaks up a higher pitch like an old, rusty kazoo. One might think that keeping his lies to one word would make them more believable, and yet, still, somehow... somehow, it's literally exactly as bad as always.

He chews the skin on his lip, and hedges again: )

She's just- slightly... bigger byanexponentialdegree but other than that, basically pretty much exactly the same. Jeeze, stop worrying about it so much, you sound absolutely crazy right now, just- you know what we should do? Like a spa day. Have you ever done a spa day? Because I haven't. We should fix that, right now. Let's go. Race you!

( He does not even pretend to try to run. )

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

— jack 🦝 i do what i want

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