diametrically | — open post

[ While he's unaware that there's the possibility of his mind being probed or even his uppermost thoughts being read, Wanda might find it surprising that there's an odd amount of resistance there for someone who is just a normal human. Luthen had given him little training on how to mentally block his mind, but that had been enough, coupled with the natural resilience that he'd developed over the years from just being so fucking stubborn.

He offers her what could be taken as a sheepish shrug as an affirmative. Of course, that in itself is sort of an act. Part of the persona that he'd built for the time that he was going to spend here. Then again, he's also never really been the sort to brag about any kind of skill that he's in possession of. ]

My boss is known to do quid pro quo work. Even if they didn't, I'm off the clock and I don't mind taking a look. These might cost you enough as it is.

[ Right on cue the Jawa merchant comes shuffling back holding out not one but two parts. Cassian grasps hold of the both of them giving them a discerning eye before asking how much. Even without understanding Wanda will be able to tell from the look Cassian offers them that it isn't acceptable. After more grumbling they offer another price. ]

You might need both of these parts. He's giving them to you at a decent price.

( it's almost disarming, and wanda wonders if she should be allowing herself to trust the overall picture and not her gut feeling. wanda has met more reassuring individuals in her life, built on the stirrups of confidence and arrogance, but something gentler than the preening of macho feathers is perhaps what she needs during these trying times.

there is still an ounce of reservation as he makes subtle references to his generosity. but, before she knows it, the jawa merchant comes along and this (kind) stranger is taking over the negotiations here.

suppose she will have to trust someone with more experience than her.

with a wordless nod, wanda pulls out the device that ticks away with credits, allowing for the scanner to transfer the credits to the jawa merchant. the color on the narrow screen goes from a healthy green to a wary orange, and wanda huffs, knowing that she ought to find a way to get some more before her resources deplete entirely. putting the device away into her bag, wanda then urges the stranger to follow her to where her ship is currently parked at. )

I have some tools you can use.

( it's not hard to notice the stranded ship, a colorful model, but one that's definitely a little older, put together with scraps and new gears. it's an amalgamation of mechanical generations; rocket made sure to provide her with something that wouldn't just randomly explode, and with the things they could acquire in knowhere? it's a pretty decent piece of junk

for a solo traveler, anyway, though wanda tries to ignore the extra seat at the cockpit that remains empty in her travels.

she motions at it, bringing out the key to the side door. )

This is it.

Edited 2024-07-30 20:00 (UTC)

[ Even when he's playing the part of a preening creature, Cassian has never fully enjoyed it. This persona of a mechanic who was sheepish about his ability to fix something - even if it was scrap - was more akin to his usual self. His confidence lay in his belief in his own abilities and that if he didn't do it, who else would? Granted this was no life or death situation. But the principle was still the same.

If he left her to it, she could probably figure out how to fix her ship on her own. Knowing what part she needed was half the challenge after all. And if she didn't trust herself to actual install and diagnose the rest of the problems that may arise, finding a mechanic in this city wasn't that difficult either.

There's nothing particularly private about paying for the parts but he looks away, feigning interest in the other things that the Jawa merchant has on offer. But out of the corner of his eye he can see the way her credit balance flashes that familiar orange. When all is said and done he nods, shifting his saddle bag and following her. ]

We can head to the shop if we need anything else.

[ The ship does look like it's been pieced together in a somewhat haphazard way. He can pick out familiar looking parts but there's nothing to discern it as a specific model. It's not the first hunk of junk that he's seen. It probably won't be the last. As they enter the ship he pushes the goggles atop his head that he'd been wearing to cut the glare of the sun beating down on them (it was an odd heatwave for Taris; something about a mostly harmless set of cloud systems blanketing the atmosphere so that heat was being trapped for longer than usual) to get a proper look around as the lights flicker on. ]

Did you put this together yourself? Or did someone do it for you?

[ His expression remains even, but there's the barest hint of judgement - like he's suggesting he's surprised this even made it here in the first place. ]

( wanda isn't entirely too sure that she feels very comfortable in this man using such familiarity in how he talks to her, referring to 'we' as some kind of team up, currently, but perhaps it's enough of a brash thought for her to realize that she has far too many hangups to be judging people so harshly. still, she steels herself to her circumstances, tries not to be appreciative of this stranger's help when he owes her absolutely nothing.

inside the ship, she pulls off at the scarf that she had wrapped over her head and shoulders, setting it down on one of the wall-benches. she herself circles around the center console, looking at him as he looks about. )

The best mechanic I know put it together for me. He reassured me it wouldn't give me trouble as long as I didn't push it.

( —and push it she had. even if rocket's job under the chassis speaks of an expert's hands at work, the general look of the ship was meant intentionally, so that wanda would be able to camouflage easier with the other heaps of metal without catching anyone's greedy eye.

it isn't rocket's fault that she attempted so many jumps between galaxies. )

I thought I'd try fixing what's wrong first before calling him. Don't tell me it's a lost cause.

( she stops by a ladder that leads onto an alcove; that's where she sleeps, a general living space behind her. a box of tools sits atop a table.

despite her arms being crossed, her shoulders relent in their tension. )

My name's Wanda.

[ Cassian wouldn't fault her for her guardedness; he would be too were the situation reversed. But this version of him on Taris is friendly and amiable - or rather, friendlier and more amiable than he is now. As jaded as the days and months have made him, that hasn't completely smothered the desire to help (even if that does admittedly come with some level of ulterior motive which, he reminds himself, is all for the Rebellion).

As it stands with Wanda, he really does have nothing to gain. She reads as an off-worlder, someone merely passing through who had fallen on some ship troubles. If there is anything to gain, it's company for a drink in a cool out of the blistering heat. His eyes flicker over towards her as she removes the scarf that covered her head. And it's attractive company at that. Cassian's gaze doesn't linger as his head turns back towards their surroundings. ]

It's hard to say without looking at the engine. I'll need to get down there.

[ At the sound of her name he turns back towards her. ]

Gavnic.

( it sounds like a name that isn't really a name, but what does wanda know about those in the other side of the galaxy? a frown pinches her expression as he tells her that he needs to check the engine.

that much makes sense, but — it won't cost her anything, will it? seeing that he has to put extra effort into this. )

Do you have your own tools?

( guess she is going to let it happen.

wanda grabs at the toolbox; it's a little light, but rocket supplied her with just about everything she would need. )

—I have this. I also want to see what you do.

( not because she has trust issues or anything. is that insulting? anyway, she adds, hurriedly, )

To learn.

[ It's more of a surprise that Wanda hasn't encountered names that don't really sound like names. After all, the galaxy is vast and complex and 'Gavnic' is purposefully common in plenty of circles (particularly) on this planet, that it wouldn't so much as cause a wrinkle of suspicion to anyone looking through paperwork for rebel activity.

That is neither here nor there though. He's part way to answering that he does have his own tools (he's taken to carrying them with him because most of the mechanics on this planet do) when she offers her own toolbox. Raising an eyebrow in amusement he reaches out for it, brushing his fingers briefly against hers before taking a hold of it as she finishes her thought. ]

Would you prefer that I use what you have? [ His lips quirk an inch higher. ] So you can learn.

( wanda feels her cheeks flush, because it sounds (and looks like, as his lips lift into a grin) like he's teasing her. she draws her hand back, crossing her arms. she also feels as if she needs to explain herself; though he is human, like her, he is from a different galaxy.

customs are different. )

Where I come from, women who get stranded and are on their own are usually taken advantage of. I'm not helpless, even if I seem like it.

( even if much of her magic is hurt by different cosmic factors at this time (or maybe, really, a blockage of her own emotional stunting). )

You're still a stranger to me, Gavnic. Though I do need... your help, and I appreciate that. ( that being said— ) I'd rather you use my tools, yeah.

[ It would be easy to tease her about the rise of colour to her cheeks but she says something else that gives him pause, sincerity peeking through the persona of the smooth-talking mechanic he'd donned. The slight lift of his lips fall into something more sincere. ]

I would never assume that. I'm sorry if it came across that way.

[ And that is perhaps one of the truest things he's said to her thus far. Or the truest depending on how short this interaction goes. The women in his life have imprinted on him, are woven into his bones like a tapestry. They come from all walks of life but that doesn't make them any less stronger, any less resilient than the last. The things he does for the rebellion, the places it takes him, they all cling to him like ghosts, reminding him of what he's come from. Who he's fighting for.

And if he's trying not to be so sentimental about it - in his line of work, he can't underestimate anyone. ]

Let's your use tools then. [ He sets to work then, propping the box open on the floor to take a look at its contents. ] Tell me what you know about the tools in here.

( her guard seems to go down the moment he apologizes, the moment she can register sincerity in his actions and tone. wanda has always been direct, and she isn't afraid to be it, even now, in space. thankfully, gavnik seems a more decent sort than most others.

wanda inhales deeply, then gets down on her haunches alongside him. he asks her to tell him what she does know about the tools, and the reality is—not much. )

I know this one is for soldering. ( she points at one of them, then continues pointing out others that she's familiar with. clearly her knowledge is there, but she lacks practice, certainly. ) I'm a quick learner, but it helps me to see when you work. I'm very visual.

( well, she certainly is a little warmer towards him now, at least. )

[ When her haunches relax, so do his. If she ever discovers he'd lied to her about his name she may very well rethink that statement about him being a decent man. In the grand scheme of things someone could lie to someone else about it's probably not so bad; and if Cassiann's being honest, it's one of the few things he's done that doesn't keep him up at night.

Each alias was merely something to be burned. It was his armour, a way to keep himself and those tied ot the Rebellion safe. The chances of him seeing Wanda again after this were slim to none because even he knew that his days on Taris were coming to a close.

It has become second nature by now for his mind to race, to always be constantly on edge and alert, coming up with plans to stay one step ahead of any inevitability. But here, at least for now, most of that quiets so he can focus on this. ]

Tell me if you want me to slow down or explain something further.

[ It doesn't take long to locate the hatch into the guts of the ship. Offering the headlamp to her and then slipping his own onto his head he hops in. It's a smaller ship and that much is reflected in the the tight fit but he manages to get in here and makes room for her to before getting to work. ]

( wanda follows his lead, with the headlamp, and joins him—all while doing her best to not get in his way as he gets to work on sorting out what's wrong with her ship. she figures that rocket would never let her be in a situation where she's completely out of luck with the ship, but it's good to have someone who seems to know what they're doing working on it.

she's definitely putting a lot of trust in him.

pressing to his side to see better, she asks a few questions, here and there, about why he's doing something or another. she has other questions, about hypotheticals, and he answers them for her, too.

it's unlikely she will ever become a mechanic, but — she's getting the gist of it.

wanda watches him working on one contraption or another, and asks, )

How'd you learn to work on ships?

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