Stranger Things
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if i look back, i am lost
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@dearmistrcss
armcnds:
the leather of his chair creaks as he shifts, & the scratching of quill on parchment fills the quiet room as his attention lingers on the papers. nothing of importance, truly, but it is best to have it done. he is silent enough that for a brief instant, it is as he has not even heard. ❛ ah, cassia, ❜ he says at long last, a kind ( if tired ) smile on his face as he turns to her. ❛ please— ❜ he says, his free hand waving in invitation, ❛ come in. is all well ? ❜
is all well? she hates to think of it like that. it’s so safe to imagine herself inherently disadvantaged rather than face the reality of her own agency. she could’ve reacted differently— she could’ve been happy, or even indifferent, if only she wanted to; if only she wasn’t waiting for it to happen to her. but none of that matters now, of course. cassia shrugs, closing the door behind her as she steps inside. this is something, she supposes. it might not be right, but it’s something.
“if you know already i’m sorry, but i just.. and i know it’s not my place to tell you..” vague, but it buys her some much needed time. mostly though, she tries to just breathe. “but i just assumed that queen emeline may have.. neglected to tell you about her bastard half-brother.”
jaimiestarling:
“the inn, or bearoria? i heard this place had good ale and good rooms. and good prices, at that.” it takes him a few beats to figure out how vague he can be with his reasons for visiting the kingdom. “i’m here on business,” is where he settles. he was. it’s done with now; he just hasn’t left yet. “and to pass on a message,” he adds. that he hasn’t done yet, because he’s positive it’s a bad idea. there’s only the shadow of a chance that he will.
zenan isn’t all that large, really. and he knows nothing is all that predictable. maybe it’s not that he’s shocked to see her in bearoria, but rather that he’s pleased. she looks well. he doesn’t tend to assume people are well, when he meets them like he met cassia that first time.
”business? i thought you’d be retired by now—” exaggerated for jest; truthfully though, he doesn’t seem to have changed much at all. maybe it’s just wishful thinking. business sounds very temporary. cassia has been so caught up in the court’s movement as of late that it seems strange to think that he could leave, that he probably could go wherever he wanted. all while she’s willingly stuck in a city surrounded by man-eating spiders. “..but does that you’re going to be leaving soon?”
jaimiestarling:
he does a proverbial double take. it isn’t as if he’s spent much time thinking about her in the years since the brief time he’d known her, but seeing her means taking the memories out from where he’d filed them away. “cassia?” he tries, and yes, that’s it, that sounds right when said aloud. not that he had more than a shadow of doubt.
he shrugs. “creepiest painting i ever saw. i’ll put it back. anyway, long time no see. you staying here?” if he’d bumped into her years earlier, he might have been a bit paranoid to have someone in the vicinity sort of know him. it might have stirred up one or two irrational worries. but she doesn’t know anything dangerous, does she? no, it’ll be fine.
she doesn’t need more of a greeting than that to continue down the stairs, somewhat confused but ultimately hopeful. she truly would not have expected to run into him here and now— or ever again, really. still, it’s nice to see him; guilty as ever. some things never change.
“i’m not, just helping a friend out.” an oversimplification, but he doesn’t quite know enough about her life now for her to go into detail. she shrugs right back at him, pausing just before taking the final step down. “what are you doing here?”
@armcnds
it’s taken a lot of deliberation for her to end up here, pacing back and forth in the hallway outside of matthias’ office. truth be told, cassia still isn’t entirely sure whether this is right, or whether she even wants to do this. the latter seems more relevant, but also more elusive. still, she’s here. she might as well go forward. he’ll find out eventually anyway.
the door is unlocked, so she opens it, knocking with the back of her hand against the doorframe instead. “if you’re not busy, lord armand.. can we talk?”
jaimiestarling:
there was a portrait in the hallway of the inn: a woman with two dogs that didn’t look much like dogs at all, whose eyes seemed to follow jaimie as he walked to and from his rented room. today he glanced from one end of the hallway to the other before taking a step toward it and, quickly as he could, pulling it off the wall and sliding it behind a dresser. it was just of the perfect size to be hidden by the furniture. he could always just put it back when he went home to kradaeca again. satisfied by a job well done, he turned, and saw a person at the top of the stairs. he smiled at them, and wondered if they’d seen. “hello.”
it’s rare for her to stray too far away from where matthias and clara reside, regardless of what kingdom they find themselves in, but every rule has its exceptions. though she’s glad to have given up her work as a nurse, she’ll still help whenever called upon. today it’s taken her all the way to this inn, and by the time she’s done, she can’t wait to get back to the house.
that is, of course, until she slows to a halt at the sight of a familiar face just down the stairs. surreal? very much so. convenient? she’s not quite sure yet.
“are you... redecorating?” neither accusatory not completely rhetorical; cassia takes one slow step down the stairs, and then another, just watching. she’s sure it’s jaimie, even though it’s been a long time since last.
“I stood on the little bridge and looked across the water; I melted into the landscape and offered all my tenderness up to the sky and the stars and the water and to the little bridge. And that was the best moment of the day.
And I felt this was the only way of transforming all the many and deep and tender feelings one carries for another into deeds: to entrust them to nature, to let them stream out under the open sky, and to realize that there is no other way of letting them go.”
— Etty Hillesum, fom a diary entry featured in An Interrupted Life: the Diaries, 1941-1943 and Letters from Westerbork
levilaroux:
Levi rolls his eyes, it’s very childish and he regrets it rather quickly but it’s still an action he’d done all the same. “They tend ta’ live anyplace they want if house spiders are anythin’ ta; go by.” The bounty hunter retorts back, he doesn’t think a forest is going to keep them warm and cozy forever now that they’ve been stirred, perhaps he should feel guilty in a way, he had been there had he not? Hadn’t really steered his queens idea on going there either, does that make him just as guilty; or none of them guilty…it wasn’t as if any of them expected that to happen. Still the more she speaks the more Levi finds that she is right, he also makes a mental note to get lots of peppermint oil on the low down because he’d not been aware of that deciding spider be gone factor. “Ya’…ya’ are right I suppose.” He confirms out loud, looking downwards for a moment, “It’s just, if ya’d o’ seen them it mighta’ shaken ya’ up ta’. Leavin’ them alone seems best though, trust me I don’t plan o’ goin’ back in there if I can help it.” That was for sure, he doesn’t think anything could make him step foot in there again.
“i don’t see you tough soldiers quaking in your boots over house spiders though.” there’s a point being made, evidently, but if she can play the devil’s advocate against any military men, it’s practically impossible to resist. not that she cares much for spiders to begin with, but still. cassia sighs, shooting him as sympathetic a look as she can muster in the moment. “it definitely would have. but i didn’t go knocking on their door,” it’s always a safe bet to just stay home, she’s learned. “so i’m hopeful they won’t come knocking on mine, you know? i’m sure we’ll all be fine, it will be fine.”
armcnds:
the title draws a wince from him, but he yields, hands raised in surrender. bullied by the governess, of all people. had he hired her to nag his daughter, or himself ? ❛ alright, alright, miss cassia. ❜ he says, the honorific stretched into a d r a w l. ❛ i am not fool enough to believe i can escape. —it is nice. i—thank you. ❜ she is right, even if his pride stings to admit it. he has been far too busy as of late to spare a moment with his clara, & a night with her breathless chatter & cassia’s smile is altogether too tempting. perhaps he can spare a few hours. ❛ lead the way. ❜
she’d normally be much more careful around someone of his status— but matthias proves himself time and time again to be delightfully human. it’s really no wonder that, in spite of everything, his daughter has turned out so well; though it might be a little early to call. cassia just grins, rolling her eyes at the mocking title he bestows on her.
“you sound thrilled.” the sarcasm is well intended, rounded off with a smile as she looks over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of clara in the other room, now tiredly stumbling rather than running around. with everything coming together the way she intended, it’s hard, even for cassia, to find anything to complain about in the moment. she steps past him with a shrug. “we’ll meet you there— we’ll just, eh, tidy ourselves up. i’m confident you’ll be able to find your way downstairs just fine, lord armand.”
bhctt:
❛ embarassing ? ❜ she repeats, a hand flying to her heart in mock offense, but she laughs as she does. her spirits are far too high for her to begrudge cassia’s words, when she has been teasing just the same. she loops an arm through her friend’s, an easy smile upon her face. ❛ i’ll take you being glad to see me, though. but i do not know how you can call this any other day ! it’s a cause for celebration ! —OH ! ❜ she gasps in realization, the thought striking her like lightning, ❛ it almost slipped my mind, but i have a gift for you. ❜
whether friendly generosity or just nicolette’s cordial nature —though cassia has not know anyone from ironhaven to be particularly cordial— cassia raises her eyebrows at the prospect of a gift. the remembrance had been enough, but now she’s curious.
“you really didn’t have to get me anything, i’m not a child.” the formalities are hardly skin-deep; she doesn’t even bother hididng the grin on her face even as she goes about denying any real excitement. “but.. what is it?”
An Ultraviolence Outtake titled ‘Yes To Heaven’, recorded in 2013 and written by Lana Del Rey and Rick Nowels.
I used to say I’d know you anywhere, but it’s getting harder.
Margaret Atwood, “Shapechangers in Winter” from Morning in the Burned House (via mythaelogy)
cesarscommand:
she made it halfway through her question, and cesar’s stomach filled with guilt. he knew what she was going to ask, but he waited. why had he kept it from her? it seemed stupid, now, when she’d always been one of the few people - sometimes the only person - he’d trusted. but that secret was him, and he was that secret. he’d been loathe to part with it, loathe to tell anyone. until it was eating away at him with such strength and ferocity that he couldn’t bear it any longer. he closed his eyes. “i’m sorry. i know that’s not enough,” it wasn’t. he’d hate it if she suddenly told him she was someone else. nothing would excuse it, not fully. “it was the one thing that was mine. the one thing i had in this world, that was just mine. everything else is entirely ordinary, and is someone else’s. i’m her general, i’m my mother’s son, i’m everything to someone else. you know? it was the only way for me to get something i’ve never properly had. family, cassia. my mother never gave me that properly. i was always being raised for something. for this, i guess. she never treated me with… i don’t know. something normal. i… there’s not much else i know i can say. just. just that i’m sorry.”
hearing him apologize now brings her no satisfaction. she knows this is supposed to be about him, not her, but can’t live up to that promise. that makes two of them, cassia supposes, and shrugs. she wonders if matthias will be home soon.
“in the whole world..” she mumbles, thinking about what he’d just said. in the whole world, everyone and everything coming in second to his royal blood. “it’s still your own. you can have it— i don’t..” because it’s hard to care about a future in which one has no part; she imagines cesar in the castle, part of the needless intrigue, undeservedly immortalised. everyone leaves if they can, she’s learned; this isn’t a life anyone would want. “i don’t think this has anything to do with me.” he’d been her friend once too. it’s never been much, but she likes to think she’s tried. and all for this. all for him to have just suffered through it.
a second shrug, and her expression shifts from listlessly pained to almost entirely indifferent. “i’m sorry you’ve been so terribly inconvenienced, but i’ll be going now.” upstairs, or back into whatever next uninspired act of betrayal comes her way. she thinks of norden, if she hadn’t let him in that night.
“lord armand should be home soon, i’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear your story.” cassia, however, walks toward the staircase, and doesn’t bother looking back. “good night, lord mireen.”
Too Good at Goodbyes by Sam Smith
cesarscommand:
he stopped. cesar hadn’t expected himself to, no matter what she said. and yet he did. he chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, head dropping backwards. his eyes went skyward - or rather, towards the annoyingly pretty ceiling of matthias’ home - and he considered praying, just for a moment. “i’ve known since i was sixteen. that was when my mother told me.” he turned back to her, closer than he recalled her being, and continued.
“she had some thing of his, a handkerchief or some such. it was finer than she or my uncle could ever afford. and i knew she was telling the truth. it was too perfect - it made so much sense. they’d always treated me different to the other boys’ parents - mother and uncle ciaran, that is. i always felt like they were holding something back from me. and there it was.” he let out a long breath. “but i didn’t want to go about, yelling i was some hero or some great person only because of my father. i wanted to earn my way up. i wanted to know my family before i told them who i was.”
it’s a surreal thing to be listening to. and it’s strange, how she can start to piece things together now in hindsight. they haven’t gotten along since coming here. maybe this is why.
“why didn’t you—” cassia almost smiles. not because she’s happy, but in a strangely pained way. royals don’t abide by rules. they come and go as they please, kill who they want, take what they want, and do what they want; they’re remembered while everyone around them fades. and that’s who he is; that’s who he’s always been. he’s one thousand miles away and looking down on her now. “why didn’t you tell me?”
levilaroux:
Levi scoffs, something he usually wouldn’t do but in this instance it is the only reaction he fears he can have. Of course she wasn’t taking him seriously, she hadn’t been there he can only assume, hadn’t seen what he had down in those woods. “S’not jus’ trees, those spiders in there are tha’ biggest fuckers I’ve ever seen,” Beyond Ysellian of course, he hadn’t thought to pay mind to his language for once, another day he might of apologized, been ashamed maybe, not today however. “Almost killed one o’ tha’ toughest men I’ve met this side o’ Zenan.” Could have very tell killed the whole lot of them he wants to say, he holds his tongue though, for once. “M’ just sayin’ we oughta all keep n’ eye out, it hasn’t been a problem yet but it might start ta’ be, all these folks here, stuck in Bearoria, tha’s like probably prime pickin’s fa’ those things.”
“spiders do tend to live in forests.” cassia has never been much of a forest-dweller herself. if there are things, beings, that dwell there and wish not to be disturbed, then she’s not going to. the best way to stay out of danger, she’s found, is to simply stay at home. “and tough men do have tendencies to get caught up. if they’re anything like the small ones, you can just ward them off with peppermint oil.” tried and true— though she supposes the proportions might be trickier to work out. “or maybe if we leave them alone, they’ll leave us all the same. it doesn’t always have to end with someone being eaten.”
everyone I love has had the hardest time sleeping.
Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib, from The Crown Ain’t Worth Much