eastbound | un: bee

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un: bee

[ Cassian is perched just outside one of the furthest tents of the caravan, out of the blazing sun as he reads over the vellum scroll in his hands several times, trying to memorize it. Only once he is done so does he put it away and pull the silver pendant out of his clothes to send a message to the rest. ]

So, I am still fairly new here. Finding my feet.

Surely there is a way to be useful? A way to earn a credit or two?

I’ve heard that there are things in the desert, that can be found by those with sharp eyes. But are they even worth the retrieval, I wonder? Who would even want them?

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[ Clara may or may not grin at her device while replying. ]

A: true
2: I guess if I pick and choose, that afternoon wasn't too bad.

Maybe it’s worth having another afternoon like that, without the sand worms this time?

Until the sand worn, I think we were on a quest for food. I dunno about you, but I do some of my best flirting over a shared meal.

Well, I won’t claim that’s where I do my best flirting, but always works well as an appetizer.

Where should I meet you?

I'm pretty sure every place here is haunted or terrifying in some other way.

there's no fine dining, I'm afraid, but there is a dead garden. And I do have snacks and water.

[ It occurs to her only after she sends this message that this is all public. Too late now, but she's wondering if she'll see flashes of bow tie around a corner. He has to be too preoccupied to check messages constantly, or so Clara hopes. ]

The ghosts don’t seem that bad, at least.

[ He’s only seen one. ]

Deal. Dead garden, meagre food, good company. I’ll see you there in half an hour?

[ He wants to scrounge up some food too. ]

Edited 2023-01-22 14:27 (UTC)

Remind me to tell you about the knife-throwing ghosts.

[ Not as bad as the mannequins...but still. ]

Half an hour, you, me, and whatever the desert has to offer. I'll be there.

[ Now he’s the one grinning as he types. ]

See you there.

[ He arrives a little earlier than he predicted, after hunting down some grub - quite literally, he’s pretty sure what he’s found are chunks of roasted sand worm grubs - and has perched himself on a rock in amongst the dead and gnarled bushes. He’s also got half a bottle of wine left in his flask - the remnants of what he didn’t share with Finn - and a rolled up velum parchment in his lap. Of everyone here, Clara is someone he trusts to take a look without trying to screw him over for it.

Not that anyone’s tried to screw him over, yet. But the important word there was ‘yet’]

[ Clara comes bearing beef jerky left over from the inn, a delicacy. There's also leftover liquor and it's brown, so not her favorite, but acceptable. She's also carrying a very small rose, the outer petals rimmed in gold. She's being careful not to use them often, but it might be helpful to blink out of sight if something crashes their date.

Meeting? Friendship Powwow? She doesn't want to get ahead of herself. Walking into the garden, she's careful and wary until she sees him, calling him by the wrong name, unbeknownst to her. ]

Brassos, are you trying to impress me with your punctuality? Because it's working.

[ She's teasing, although it is nice to not be waiting alone in the garden, she appreciates that. ]

[ He grins as he sees her approach - lopsided and handsome - and stands up off his rock.

He’s going to address the name thing. In a second. He really is. ]

If it’s working, then I’m doing it.

[ He held out his arms to offer a hug in greeting. ]

Though there are a couple things I need to tell you.

[ The hug is nice; she feels oddly protected which is a new feeling that she's immediately fond of. When she steps back, Clara looks at him quizzically, with a curious smile. ]

Right down to business then.

[ Moving to his resting spot, Clara sits down and looks at him expectantly, the roses next to her on one side. ]

As long as you don't tell me you hate books with a passion, I think we'll be alright.

[ He gives a lopsided, apologetic grin, and holds his hands up. ]

Not business, I promise.

My name isn’t Brasso. Brasso is one of my best friends, and I borrowed his name while I wasn’t sure who here I could trust or if the Empire had a presence here. My name isn’t a safe one to hand around, back home.

My name’s Cassian. Cassian Andor.

You can call me Cass, if you want.

[ the sheepish grin spread ]

At least this way I don’t have to hear a pretty girl call for my friend instead.

[ Aftre setting the bag of snacks at her feet Clara listens, one eyebrow inching upward until she flushes a magnificent shade of pink at his compliment. She also resists the urge to call attention to the fact that she'd tacked on an S to his fake name, because if he's letting it go, she is too. And he'd still called her pretty, so.

He's already told her enough about the Empire to know it's awful, so instead of giving him a hard time, she scoots over, inviting him to sit beside her. ]

Alright, Cassian Andor. I'm still Clara Oswald. It's good to officially meet you. Have to fix my diary, though.

[ Is she joking? He'll never know, but she does toss him an easy smile. She'll call him Cass, but Cassian sounds nice. ]

Edited 2023-01-24 23:36 (UTC)

[ His smile turns a little relieved when she takes it so easily, and he sits down next to her close enough that his shoulder bumps hers. ]

Well, show me the page, I’ll spell it for you.

[ It was clearly a flirting tease, but he can’t help it after she blushed like that. He’s taking that as full encouragement.

He pulls out his flask and unscrews it, the taking a sip of wine before offering it to her. ]

It’s not much, but it’s not bad.

[ She's never going to stop being somewhere on the sliding scale of blush tones at this rate. She feels like one of her students, wanting a boy to like her. ]

Left it at my other run-down temple, sorry Cass.

[ That feels nice to say too, so really, his name is perfect. She bumps his shoulder lightly with her own, smiling again. ]

Here, I'll trade you. I don't really like this one, but it'll do in a pinch. [ After taking the offered flask, she bends down and fishes out her bottle and hands it to him. Then, she fishes out the jerky. ] Can I offer you some of my delicious dehydrated meat, as well?

[ He grins at the sound of his name on her lips, happily taking the bottle and taking a sip. Not bad at all. ]

Tastes like whiskey from Fest. Good in a pinch, [ He agreed with a wink, before reaching into his bag to find his own meagre offerings. ]

Sounds delicious. Here, I’ll trade you for some roasted grub.

[ He gave her a conspiratorial grin, fully aware of just how appetizing any of this was. ]

Amazing. You really know how to shower a girl with fine dining at its best.

[ She does laugh though, making the trade. Is it a grub, is it not? She'll find out later, after she's had enough alcohol. Sipping the wine, she hums, giving a so-so gesture. ]

Not bad, if I'm being honest. A little more of that and grubs might actually sound alright.

[ After another sip of wine, Clara turns to the rose beside her and picks it up. ]

I brought you something. A thank you.

[ She hands him the rose with three gold tipped petals. There were five, but Clara used one when she didn't know what would happen if she plucked it, and another to win a snowball fight back at the inn. She still has 23 rose petals left, and she's giving the rest from this flower to Cassian. ]

One of the gold-tipped petals will make you invisible for half an hour once you pluck it.

Edited (my reading comprehension!!!) 2023-01-27 15:59 (UTC)

I do my best, [ He says with a grin and a wink - though that fades when she produces his gift and becomes an open and unguarded expression of surprise. ]

Truly?

[ He sounds like the child he once was, the first time he saw himself in a mirror. The first time he walked into a space ship, filled with things he’d never known existed.

He takes it, delicately, turning it over in his hand as if afraid he’d break it.

He’s never seen a rose before.

He glances up, blinking at her with something between honest gratitude and confusion. ]

This- that is an incredible gift. I don’t know how I could take it.

You don’t need to thank me.

[ She can't help the warm smile that blossoms on her face, his reaction making her heart squeeze a little. ]

Truly. And I know I didn't need to, but I wanted to. I like to know the people I care about have ways to be safe.

[ Clara reaches out to touch one of the petals lightly, tracing her finger along the gold edge. ]

I have more, and I'm being stingy with them, don't worry.

[ A semi-truth; she'll give more away, but not too many. She does want to keep the majority for herself. Pulling her hand away, she smiles again, smaller this time. ]

In any case, remember: only thirty minutes. You'll be visible again in a blink.

Thirty minutes may as well be a life time, if you’re invisible.

[ More than enough time to make a get-away.

He turns it over again and then very gently tucks it into his suit, close to the inside and next to his heart. Once convinced it’s safe, he glances up with a warm smile. ]

Thank you, Clara. I’ll make good use of it.

That's all I ask.

[ She returns his smile, then taks a sip of her wine. Looking up at the sky, she tries to find some sort of familiarity there, a constellation or bright planet, but there's nothing. ]

You know, I've been all over the universe, all over time, and I've still never felt so far away from home?

[ Clara isn't even sure where home will be once she leaves this place and gets back to the TARDIS. Frowning at herself, she shakes her head, and when she looks back at Cassian, she's slightly red. ]

Sorry, I dunno why I said that. Let's have some grubs, shall we?

[ Trying to lighten things she turns back to their shared and limited food stock. ]

Next time, we have to find a better pantry.

[ When her eyes turn back to him, they meet Cassian’s - his own gaze had been locked on her since she started speaking. ]

That’s because you are far from home. We all are. You don’t need to hold the feeling in.

[ He finally let’s his gaze slip away, but only so he can focus on cracking open a little bit of the grub for the softer flesh, and then raising it up for her on the tips of his fingers, offering a bite. ]

We’re all stuck here, but we have each other.

Even without a decent pantry.

[ It's simultaneously one of the most and least romantic things she's ever done thanks to the food, but she's game and leans forward to take the bite. Just briefly, and so faint it might as well have been nothing, Clara's lips brush the very tips of his fingers before she's pulled back.

Chewing, she doesn't want to admit it isn't bad, but she does. ]

Not what I expected. It tastes alright, like something vaguely familiar I've had before, but I dunno what.

[ Something from Earth? She hates that it's sort of good, but maybe it's the wine making it better. ]

What do you think? The next best thing in gourmet snack food?

I’ve had much worse. At least it has flavour.

[ He offers her a warm smile before taking a bit of the flesh for himself, letting the tips of his own fingers linger between his lips for a few seconds as he savoured it. ]

Spent a year in an Imperial labour camp drinking tasteless sludge. You learn to appreciate everything, after that.

[ It’s a slight exaggeration - it was closer to forty days than a year - but it felt like ten so what was the difference?

He offered a slightly sly smile and shifted a little closer to lean in.]

But just between you and me, I even think that would taste pretty decent in present company.

[ There's a hint of a frown that turns down her lips at the mention of a labor camp, and without thinking much about it, she reaches out to rest her hand on his arm. It doesn't seem like the sort of thing a person casually asks about, so she won't. But she wants him to know she heard it, so she squeezes his arm, leaving her hand there.

Now, Clara's blushing for an entirely different reason from before, and she can't help but lean in, too. ]

Are you saying I make seemingly bleak situations seem marginally better?

un: bee

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