Cassandra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ladyfrownsalot) wrote2021-06-10 05:48 pm
ladyfrownsalot) wrote2021-06-10 05:48 pm
000 🌑 IC Inbox
✓✓ Read 10:35 PM
[ Audio / Video / Spam ]
...so, uh...
Given how things seem to have turned out, I believe we should probably talk.
Given how things seem to have turned out, I believe we should probably talk.
...I believe you're right. Where?
My cabin might be best, unless you have an allergy to dogs or cats.
Cabin five, second level. I’m not far from the infirmary, if that helps.
She doesn't respond to that message, but there's a quick rap on his door a few moments later and her voice calling through:
"Hey, Jonny."
”How do you even know that reference?” Though he realizes after, it probably isn’t one.
He’ll open the door and gesture for her to come in. She’ll be greeted by a Bernese Mountain Dog at Jon’s hip, wagging up a storm but not actually pouncing on her even though she’d clearly like to.
“The dog’s name is Winifred, the cat’s name is Sasha, they’re both very friendly,” he’ll explain as he gestures to the kitchen table. The file is right there, on top of it, neat and tidy and clearly untouched.
He’ll open the door and gesture for her to come in. She’ll be greeted by a Bernese Mountain Dog at Jon’s hip, wagging up a storm but not actually pouncing on her even though she’d clearly like to.
“The dog’s name is Winifred, the cat’s name is Sasha, they’re both very friendly,” he’ll explain as he gestures to the kitchen table. The file is right there, on top of it, neat and tidy and clearly untouched.
Cassandra stares at the dog. She's pretty sure she's seen smaller horses.
"...Okay," she says, and moves towards the table without showing even an inclination towards petting either of them. "Is that...?"
Her file. Her life?
She probably has.
Jon will close the door and lead the way to the table and Winifred will walk along beside him, settling next to him and between the two of them as they get to the table. It’s clear she wants to greet new friend but Jon’d trained her since she was a puppy. None of that until it’s welcome.
“It is,” he says as he takes a seat. “And no, I haven’t read it.”
Jon will close the door and lead the way to the table and Winifred will walk along beside him, settling next to him and between the two of them as they get to the table. It’s clear she wants to greet new friend but Jon’d trained her since she was a puppy. None of that until it’s welcome.
“It is,” he says as he takes a seat. “And no, I haven’t read it.”
Cassandra sits down opposite him.
"Assuming I believe that: why not? You want me to tell you my life story myself when it's already right there?"
He glances at the file, and then he focuses on her.
"Somewhat." He leans back a little and tries to find the words again. It'd been surprisingly simple with Elizabeth. Or maybe it wasn't and he was just remembering their ease later in the relationship. No, at that, it'd been terrible.
Well, lets see if they can do better.
"I haven't read it because I don't actually think it will be useful." He taps the folder a couple of times and he pushes it towards her. "Not just because it's a massive invasion of your privacy and a great big bomb planted right smack in the middle of any trust we might establish, but-"
He draws his hand back.
"I'm not interested in what the Admiral has to say about your life. What you have to say is much more important. And listening to him before you strikes me as a good way of getting an unhelpful bias."
"Somewhat." He leans back a little and tries to find the words again. It'd been surprisingly simple with Elizabeth. Or maybe it wasn't and he was just remembering their ease later in the relationship. No, at that, it'd been terrible.
Well, lets see if they can do better.
"I haven't read it because I don't actually think it will be useful." He taps the folder a couple of times and he pushes it towards her. "Not just because it's a massive invasion of your privacy and a great big bomb planted right smack in the middle of any trust we might establish, but-"
He draws his hand back.
"I'm not interested in what the Admiral has to say about your life. What you have to say is much more important. And listening to him before you strikes me as a good way of getting an unhelpful bias."
She pulls the file towards herself and stares at it but doesn't open it.
"So, what if I don't want to talk about my life?"
"Then we don't."
That's it. End all. Be all.
"And just to make it clear, I have no intention of using my abilities on you in the course of our tenure together unless you explicitly ask me to." He glances at the stove near them and after a moment, he'll get up and put the kettle on. He should have done it earlier but he'd been distracted.
"In some ways, I'm glad you got to see that bit in the Lonely. Now, you know what it feels like when I do that without having to show up. So you'll know you're not being coerced."
That's it. End all. Be all.
"And just to make it clear, I have no intention of using my abilities on you in the course of our tenure together unless you explicitly ask me to." He glances at the stove near them and after a moment, he'll get up and put the kettle on. He should have done it earlier but he'd been distracted.
"In some ways, I'm glad you got to see that bit in the Lonely. Now, you know what it feels like when I do that without having to show up. So you'll know you're not being coerced."
"...Yeah. Yeah, that was...definitely something," Cassandra says.
While Jon's back is turned, she reaches out to give Winifred a scritch behind one ear.
"How much of your life is like that, anyway?"
Winifred is looking at her with deep love and she might just nuzzle at her leg now.
Jon keeps his eyes on the kettle, or at least in the direction of as he pulls out the rest of the nonsense for tea.
"If you mean 'facing down terrible people who make you feel like the worst thing ever', that's roughly 'every day' back in my world. At last for the last two or so years."
Jon keeps his eyes on the kettle, or at least in the direction of as he pulls out the rest of the nonsense for tea.
"If you mean 'facing down terrible people who make you feel like the worst thing ever', that's roughly 'every day' back in my world. At last for the last two or so years."
"So this place must be a step up, huh."
She tolerates some nuzzling. Mostly she's missing Owl, and a large dog is a poor substitute.
"Or, maybe you've had to turn into the kind of guy who kinda likes it that way."
"No," he says honestly, "I most certainly do not. If I could have my books and a chair and some tea, I'd be much happier than getting... oh, say, kidnapped by an evil puppet circus master and moisturized for nigh on a month so they could skin me. This place is very much an improvement for me."
He's considering what to add-
"If you have a preference for tea now, speak or forever hold your peace."
He's considering what to add-
"If you have a preference for tea now, speak or forever hold your peace."
"...Black is fine. Thanks. What did they need your skin for?"
(How bad was his skin before that, that it needed a month-long moisturising regimen?)
“A ritual to bring-“ He pauses as he realizes he hasn’t really explained things from the top to the bottom just sort of, thrown things at her as he goes. They’ll get there. “The place we were was called the Lonely. The patron of that particular bit of nonsense is what’s known as the Stranger. My patron is considered diametrically opposed to theirs and they thought it would be a nice little compliment to their plans to have the skin of an Archivist on hand.”
Beat.
“Lemon or sugar is available.”
Beat.
“Lemon or sugar is available.”
"...Lemon. Thanks. So they were trying to bring their god or whatever into your world?"
This, she seems to be on solid ground with.
He’ll slice up a lemon and put it on a plate for adding. After a moment, he even puts a bit of cheesecloth over it. Fancy.
He’ll pour the near-boiling water in the teapot now.
“Essentially. It’s not- well, they’d say it was a god. But I generally call them ‘entities’. The classification of them, the names and the boundaries, it’s all sort of… ‘arbitrary’ isn’t really accurate, but they’re technically all interconnected.”
He’ll pour the near-boiling water in the teapot now.
“Essentially. It’s not- well, they’d say it was a god. But I generally call them ‘entities’. The classification of them, the names and the boundaries, it’s all sort of… ‘arbitrary’ isn’t really accurate, but they’re technically all interconnected.”
"Right. But you've still got skin, so I'm guessing it didn't go to plan," she deadpans.
“Yes, well,” he says as he watches the tea steep, “it seems I had friends in strange places and one of them decided to save me. Mostly because it amused him.”
"Was this a friend from one of your other crazy-person ritual clubs?"
Does he have other kinds of friends?
"...you're catching on. Everyone is... affiliated with something. Myself, Martin... the other two on board from my world. Anyone who gets involved is usually- well, they're claimed or marked or- or find what fits for them. It's the closest thing to magic we have."
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