( since their first meeting, wanda has since moved out into a different motel, where she currently resides with her roommate(s). reaching cassian's place, though, is not too difficult and it doesn't take her long; it's all kind of close by anyway, especially now that she feels comfortable riding her motorcycle with ease.
she hears C4T chirping inside, so that's all the confirmation she needs to know that she's in the right room. )
Cassian?
( and opens the door anyway, without knocking or waiting for him. )
[ Cassian had had the option to leave the motel they had met in but had ultimately ended up staying. Balcony deal aside he'd gotten in good with the staff and it was a familiar place to turn to in an unfamiliar place. He had plans to leave eventually. Find an apartment that was a little less transient in feel, but for now the shitty motel room would do.
When she arrives, she'll find that it hasn't change much since she'd first seen it several weeks ago.
He's pulling on a long-sleeved shirt as she enters, gaze finding hers as soon as his head emerges from the fabric. ]
Yours didn't follow you?
[ While he's curious to know if hers is as insistent as his he also wants to know if he has to keep his blaster close. ]
( wanda is too busy getting down on her haunches to pet the top of C4T, who comes to spritz the space around her, and stops when she catches herself and how odd the behaviour is. she likes the bot, so—
[ Whether he realizes it or not he watches Wanda with some faint amusement as she stoops down to greet C4T. It's been weeks now spent with the broken droid so he's well aware of the extent of its sentient nature - but that hasn't stopped him from giving it the same level of care he would have B2EMO.
Whatever faint quirk at the corner of his lip that might have been there drops as he raises his eyebrow at her. ]
That you can see.
[ He's teasing. Teasing as much as he can in a less than ideal situation. But after a moment he'll hold up his left hand for her to see that his pinky is indeed plastic. It's not for long before he crosses his arms, tucking it out of sight. As much as he claims that it doesn't bother him, he'd still rather not look at it. ]
Is there anyone else you know turning into plastic?
( standing back up, leaving C4T to go on about purifying the air, wanda looks at cassian properly. he seems alright, for the most part, even if a little of a frazzled sentiment seems to radiate from him in waves; he's definitely more worried about his current plastic-predicament than he's letting on.
lips thinning into a line as he presents his hand, she can see that his pinky does looks very much not like his other fingers. she had taken a step forward, wanting to take a closer look, but he didn't much seem in favor of the idea, unspoken as it was.
wanda shakes her head. )
You're the first one who has mentioned that to me.
[ "Purifying" the air definitely a generous description of what it is C4T is doing but that's neither here nor there at this point. C4T is want to do what it's want to do which is apparently being incredibly difficult to fix.
Hiding his plastic pinky has less to do with him not wanting to see it (or so he claims), he doesn't make a motion to step back when Wanda steps forward. If she asked, he'd let her get a closer look - but tucking it away is also his way of protecting her in case she does feel any discomfort towards that sort of thing.
That brief glimpse doesn't seem enough to deter her however. The mention of his elbow causes him to shift his arms and there's a discernible plastic squeak. ]
That's what it feels like. My joints are stiff. It's hard to move my arm.
( her question doesn't seem to encourage him to want to show her the horrors of his current plasticization, so wanda stops stepping closer. it's a bit of a helpless stance, hands tucked inside her pockets to help provide no indication of wanting to get further into his space.
wanda isn't the type to force herself on others, especially when they're uncomfortable. )
[ It's just stiffness. But stiffness, as he's learned, can lead to a soreness in his bones that refuses to leave. And that may as well be a different sort of pain.
They seem to be at an impasse. Her, reading his body language as one thing, and him reading hers as another. Uncertainty? Wariness? A desire to help but being unsure about what to do next? ]
If you have any experience with this kind of thing, I wouldn't mind knowing.
[ It's a little bit of a weary question. Some of his colleagues at work had been the nosier sorts and had insisted on seeing. That had been irritating, but this isn't. Cassian knows when someone is trying to help but doesn't know where to begin. ]
( does wanda have some kind of experience in this? she absolutely doesn't. she's not a doctor, a medic, or someone barely qualified to know for a fact how much of the human body works. even if they've established a point of trust, cassian and herself, it's still difficult for her to try and feel like she'll do more good than harm in a situation like this.
he's obviously also frustrated by the circumstances that he's in, regardless of whether wanda can help or not.
she shrugs, crossing her arms now. )
I don't really know about this kind of thing.
( —but maybe she can be useful in a different way. )
Have you checked the network for similar cases? ( also, ) Are you sure your mannequin's gone?
[ Despite establishing that they're friends, there's still little that they've shared between them about their lives before arriving here. Or rather, Cassian knows what little she's told him: Wanda had lived a difficult life, one marred by war and as a result had been a little lacking of friends and companionship and has her seeking out quiet in a noisy world.
So there's nothing to say that she didn't know a thing or two about flesh turned plastic. At least, he can hope that's the case. And a little hope is hardly foolish.
He lets out a rough breath as he turns on his heel to sit on the edge of his bed. ]
Yes. If there's any one else experiencing the same thing, they aren't posting about it. At least not yet. [ As for her other question - ] It pops up when it feels like it.
( when cassian turns to sit on the edge of his bed, wanda hardly hesitates to follow, not feeling that general sense of awkwardness that used to govern around their interactions before their opening up in the car some many nights ago. there's ease in the way she breathes around him, the way she hovers, still standing, near him as cassian sits.
a light cinch of her brow at the mention of the mannequin showing up here and there only comes forth because that much has been a constant annoyance, even to herself.
they seem to be okay for now.
C4T whirs closer to cassian's feet; wanda stands, arms still crossed, her gaze fixed on him, thoughts whirling as she comes to a decision. )
I could stay with you for a while. If you're turning into plastic, maybe your mannequin...
(is turning human? it's a crazy conclusion, but this place has proven that there's a lot of 'normal' in the crazy. for now, she glances around, over to his kitchenette. )
[ Who would have thought that all it had taken to dispel some of the guarded awkward air between them was an impromptu street race on their way back into the city? It's hard to say if Cassian is even aware of that. As observant as he is about the world around him, there's plenty about himself that he chooses to gloss over. But, if the room he leaves for her to sit beside him is any indication, on some subconscious level he's quietly made room for her his own bubble. To get a little bit closer than he might prefer to let others otherwise. ]
Not yet. I haven't had much of an appetite.
[ Briefly a thought flits across his mind in tandem with Wanda's trailed off thought: Are other parts of him that he can't see also changing too? It's a thought he's quick to squash.
C4T arrives at this feet, letting out a little whir and babble of Japanese that's something along the lines of sensing a less than optimal percentage of clean air in Cassian's general vicinity - which is promptly followed by a burp of dust. As the dust settles he watches it with an almost weary affectionate expression before looking back towards Wanda addressing her offer. ]
You don't have any where else to be? Other friends to check on?
( wanda shrugs at his questions, already having making her way towards the kitchenette even as he stated that he hasn't had much of an appetite. she looks over at what ingredients he has in the mini fridge, picking out enough to make something that she deems would be comforting: a sandwich, with whatever produce he has and the strange meats and cheeses of this place. if he has them here, it means he must like them.
she gets to cutting at some of the produce—the lettuce, the tomatoes. )
I want to be here right now.
( her answer is easy and straightforward, even if it marks at something perhaps a little heavier. wanda wants to be here, with him.
and she adds, perhaps with no real authority on the matter: )
[ Kindness is something Cassian has slowly been learning how to become more comfortable with both showing and receiving - particularly the latter. It's easier when it's from those that he knows well, who are as much stone and sky as he is, but it's those that he doesn't know well that he finds pause with.
Mostly it stems from a place of distrust. He's got his guard up by nature because that's how he's protected himself and those around him. Kindness could be a tool. A facade to hide ulterior motives. Bix tells him ti's paranoia. But if someone isn't on edge between the four of them - of Bix, Brasso, Wilmon (five if you count Bee, which he always did) then who will?
So it's no surprise at all that he all but stares as Wanda takes it upon herself to care for him though he hadn't asked and is convinced he doesn't need. There's a brief pause before he speaks up again, faint, wry albeit tired humor in his voice. ]
Will you take care of my plastic body if I turn into a mannequin?
( she looks back, making a face at him, which then slips into a bit of a smile/neutral expression once she returns to preparing him a sandwich. she's starting to learn how his sense of humor works, so it's not like she finds it annoying so much as she's a little worried for him.
though it's good that he can throw some humor in the situation, despite the general sense of anxiety she is getting from him.
quietly, she finishes up putting together the sandwich, grabs one of the disposable plates, and brings it up to him alongside a bottle of water he kept inside the fridge. once he takes it, she toes off her shoes and climbs up his bed, casual and comfortable: legs outstretched, leaning her weight back on her hands. )
If we wait long enough, it might show up again. ( the thieving mannequin ) I can hold it down for you.
( maybe this is her preparing herself to spill the beans about her powers, should he seem receptive enough to it. she'll gauge his reactions from now until then. )
[ The face is funny. Cute even. But with a straight face and without missing a beat - ]
It's a serious question.
[ A part of him had always possessed some level of dry sometimes morbid sense of humour. It was easier to cope with the situations that he found himself in which was becoming more and more frequent as the years went by as he became more entrenched in the rebellion.
Quietly he accepts the prepared sandwich and drink with a flicker of a smile before beginning to eat. Or at least attempts to. Sure it's just a sandwich but she had still gone out of her way and he's never been one to snub that sort of kindness whether he's comfortable with it or not.
And though Wanda doesn't entertain his "stupid question" when she offers to hold his hitchhiker down he glances up, cockig an eyebrow slightly. ]
( from how she's lying down on the bed, drawing her hands forward, her back presses to the pillow and against the headboard; she can see him from the side, a perfect angle to make sure that he actually eats. it feels like he is grateful, so she cannot find fault, currently, in him—in general. it makes her feel warm, that she has been able to quell his anxieties just a bit, be it because of her kindness or from being with him.
wanda shifts at his answer to her statement, sitting up and bringing her legs to curl to the side, leaning in a little, while some space still remains between them. )
I don't want it to happen, but it's probably inevitable.
[ He doesn't have to be looking at her to know that she's watching him. Monitoring him to ensure that he actually does eat. Unfortunately it isn't the first time that he's been in a similar situation. Briefly it crosses his mind that if he were to tell her that she'd probably reply in some dry manner that that isn't entirely surprising to her - but he dismisses the thought almost as quickly as it comes. ]
Are you always prepared for the worst?
[ There isn't a hint of criticism or judgement in his tone. Rather, there's almost an air of acknowledgement, of like seeing like, amongst the joking air because as they both know, this place is never short of chaos. Some people might call it being pessimistic or so on edge that they can't relax - but Cassian had been caught off guard one too many times in his life by now to not at least have some sort of awareness of consequences or actions that followed something he did. ]
Or is there something else you aren't telling me? [ Now is when his tone lightens, all jest, as he finally take a bite. ] Like a past where you fought mannequins that came to life?
( there isn't a hint of criticism or judgement in his tone, but wanda feels the question cut deep. she has no reason to not expect the worst, through her lived experiences, between her dead family and her destroyed home. it's the fact that he acknowledges it that has the sudden, rapid breathing from her part ease not into a growing sense of anxiety, but something a little more neutral despite how tenuous it all feels.
he takes a bite, and it makes her feel all the much better, that she's able to care for someone, do something good with these awful hands of hers. )
I never fought any mannequins that came to life before.
( she did fight droids; however, there is several things about her that she isn't telling him.
her heart beats like a metronome, steady and fast, and wanda doesn't remember a tightness like this in her chest in so long a time. is she afraid? worried? one of her hands curl into a fist, grabbing at some of the blanket. )
I — want to tell you something, but I don't want you to hate me for it.
( for keeping it a secret, for lying by omission. granted, hate is a strong word. she scrunches her nose, upon hearing herself, and shifts back, curled fist unfurling. )
[ When she says the word "hate" his eyebrow raises a hair. That's definitely a strong word - and it takes everything in his power not to speculate before she's had a chance to tell him. Which is only made all the more difficult thanks to what she says immediately after that.
A part of him is tempted to say that now that she's told him that it will be incredibly difficult not to - but with how seriously she's framing this, he chooses the smarter decision for once to not say anything that could come off as remotely joking or playful. For some reason he gets the impression that that would only result in her backtracking or pretending that she had never said anything at all.
So instead he stills, lowering the sandwich to the plate once again. ]
( and what's fortunate about this thing that she can do, these powers of hers bestowed upon her by the mind stone, is that she can tell that what he says is true: that he would not hate her so easily, even if she herself thinks he might. in the end, wanda's projecting; she looks at her powers with contempt, taking in all the negativity talked about her by the press and politicians, and sees her abilities as something others might fear, or hate her for.
even if she can only control her fear, she wants to, badly, be liked, accepted. finding her place in this new city hasn't been without difficulty, but to just be wanda, a normal human, feels nice, even if just for a while.
so, wanting to trust that this bond she has with cassian is strong and not just ephemeral—his answer and how he's responded with his body language clueing wanda into the fact that he's taking this seriously—she admits in what feels like one beat of her heart, )
I can move things with my mind. ( —and a breath— ) I can feel when these things are nearby if I tried.
( in trying to temper her expectations of his reaction to this, her hands return to holding tightly—the sheet, the fabric of her skirt. she's still nervous about it, despite herself.
(it means a lot to her, however cassian should react.) )
[ Cassian really didn't know what to expect when Wanda had queued him up for news that could very well result in him hating her - but it isn't that.
Though perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. People drawn and dropped here all seem to come from worlds where extraordinary powers were as common as spaceships were in his. All the same, what Wanda describes...doesn't sound so dissimilar to that of how people might speak of the Force.
And his thoughts on the Force, well. To put it bluntly he doesn't believe in it. "Force healers", as some liked to fashion themselves, claimed to be able to help quicken healing or rid someone of aliments altogether but more often than not Cassian had seen it more of a scam than anything else. One of many tricks to try and swindle some credits out of someone desperate for any option to save them.
Were this anyone else he might have dismissed it or reacted in some form of disbelief. But it's Wanda. And he knows, without a shadow of doubt that she isn't lying to him. ]
What do you mean feel things nearby? People? [ His thoughts linger to his mannequin that is still nowhere to be seen. ] Creatures?
( for the seconds that it takes cassian to answer, all wanda can listen to is her beating heart, the thoughts that linger and prod at her insecurities, wondering if the words that will come out of his mouth next will be kind or otherwise bothered.
there's relief in it being questions, but she would be foolish to think that she isn't in the hot seat still.
funny, she created this situation for herself.
she swallows, then licks at her bottom lip, thinking for a moment, before casting her gaze down to her lap. )
Everything.
( the word is quiet, mumbled so low it hardly had any air in its syllables. still, because his reaction isn't reactionary, she elaborates with a little more confidence. )
I told you this place is loud. Beyond the noise of the city, it's just — so crowded, and everyone thinks and feels so much— ( it's not something she does intentionally, and yet it feels like a fault of her own. ) These hitchhikers feel different. They feel empty, so if I focus...
[ She is in the hot seat. But perhaps not in the way that Cassian would think of it. He's had to interrogate people before - a relatively new experience if he's being honest - but it isn't anything like this. There's a gentleness to the way that he approaches this, like he knows that if she senses even the smallest form of fear or uncertainty from him she'll withdraw in on herself.
He doesn't expect his question to bring with it some sort of clarity for him as well however. Their first conversation out on the balcony suddenly makes far more sense in hindsight. And at the mention of thoughts and feelings he stills, a long learned impulse to school expression and feelings rising to the surface.
But after a moment he relaxes, reminding himself that there's no reason for him to keep his guard as far up as he does normally. ]
At least they have that going for them.
[ There's a pause as he tries to figure out what to say next. How to react next - and instead he ends up filling the silence with a bite of his sandwich. Silence has never been an uncomfortable hing for him. And in this instance it helps him decide what he wants to ask next and how exactly to ask it without coming across as offensive. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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she hears C4T chirping inside, so that's all the confirmation she needs to know that she's in the right room. )
Cassian?
( and opens the door anyway, without knocking or waiting for him. )
—hey, C4T.
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When she arrives, she'll find that it hasn't change much since she'd first seen it several weeks ago.
He's pulling on a long-sleeved shirt as she enters, gaze finding hers as soon as his head emerges from the fabric. ]
Yours didn't follow you?
[ While he's curious to know if hers is as insistent as his he also wants to know if he has to keep his blaster close. ]
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( wanda is too busy getting down on her haunches to pet the top of C4T, who comes to spritz the space around her, and stops when she catches herself and how odd the behaviour is. she likes the bot, so—
she glances up at him.
for now, they are mannequin-free. )
You look human still.
( plastic-free. )
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Whatever faint quirk at the corner of his lip that might have been there drops as he raises his eyebrow at her. ]
That you can see.
[ He's teasing. Teasing as much as he can in a less than ideal situation. But after a moment he'll hold up his left hand for her to see that his pinky is indeed plastic. It's not for long before he crosses his arms, tucking it out of sight. As much as he claims that it doesn't bother him, he'd still rather not look at it. ]
Is there anyone else you know turning into plastic?
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lips thinning into a line as he presents his hand, she can see that his pinky does looks very much not like his other fingers. she had taken a step forward, wanting to take a closer look, but he didn't much seem in favor of the idea, unspoken as it was.
wanda shakes her head. )
You're the first one who has mentioned that to me.
( still, she's stubborn— )
You said you think your elbow is plastic, too?
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Hiding his plastic pinky has less to do with him not wanting to see it (or so he claims), he doesn't make a motion to step back when Wanda steps forward. If she asked, he'd let her get a closer look - but tucking it away is also his way of protecting her in case she does feel any discomfort towards that sort of thing.
That brief glimpse doesn't seem enough to deter her however. The mention of his elbow causes him to shift his arms and there's a discernible plastic squeak. ]
That's what it feels like. My joints are stiff. It's hard to move my arm.
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wanda isn't the type to force herself on others, especially when they're uncomfortable. )
Does it — hurt?
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[ It's just stiffness. But stiffness, as he's learned, can lead to a soreness in his bones that refuses to leave. And that may as well be a different sort of pain.
They seem to be at an impasse. Her, reading his body language as one thing, and him reading hers as another. Uncertainty? Wariness? A desire to help but being unsure about what to do next? ]
If you have any experience with this kind of thing, I wouldn't mind knowing.
[ It's a little bit of a weary question. Some of his colleagues at work had been the nosier sorts and had insisted on seeing. That had been irritating, but this isn't. Cassian knows when someone is trying to help but doesn't know where to begin. ]
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he's obviously also frustrated by the circumstances that he's in, regardless of whether wanda can help or not.
she shrugs, crossing her arms now. )
I don't really know about this kind of thing.
( —but maybe she can be useful in a different way. )
Have you checked the network for similar cases? ( also, ) Are you sure your mannequin's gone?
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So there's nothing to say that she didn't know a thing or two about flesh turned plastic. At least, he can hope that's the case. And a little hope is hardly foolish.
He lets out a rough breath as he turns on his heel to sit on the edge of his bed. ]
Yes. If there's any one else experiencing the same thing, they aren't posting about it. At least not yet. [ As for her other question - ] It pops up when it feels like it.
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a light cinch of her brow at the mention of the mannequin showing up here and there only comes forth because that much has been a constant annoyance, even to herself.
they seem to be okay for now.
C4T whirs closer to cassian's feet; wanda stands, arms still crossed, her gaze fixed on him, thoughts whirling as she comes to a decision. )
I could stay with you for a while. If you're turning into plastic, maybe your mannequin...
( is turning human? it's a crazy conclusion, but this place has proven that there's a lot of 'normal' in the crazy. for now, she glances around, over to his kitchenette. )
Have you eaten yet?
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Not yet. I haven't had much of an appetite.
[ Briefly a thought flits across his mind in tandem with Wanda's trailed off thought: Are other parts of him that he can't see also changing too? It's a thought he's quick to squash.
C4T arrives at this feet, letting out a little whir and babble of Japanese that's something along the lines of sensing a less than optimal percentage of clean air in Cassian's general vicinity - which is promptly followed by a burp of dust. As the dust settles he watches it with an almost weary affectionate expression before looking back towards Wanda addressing her offer. ]
You don't have any where else to be? Other friends to check on?
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she gets to cutting at some of the produce—the lettuce, the tomatoes. )
I want to be here right now.
( her answer is easy and straightforward, even if it marks at something perhaps a little heavier. wanda wants to be here, with him.
and she adds, perhaps with no real authority on the matter: )
Don't worry. We'll figure this out together.
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Mostly it stems from a place of distrust. He's got his guard up by nature because that's how he's protected himself and those around him. Kindness could be a tool. A facade to hide ulterior motives. Bix tells him ti's paranoia. But if someone isn't on edge between the four of them - of Bix, Brasso, Wilmon (five if you count Bee, which he always did) then who will?
So it's no surprise at all that he all but stares as Wanda takes it upon herself to care for him though he hadn't asked and is convinced he doesn't need. There's a brief pause before he speaks up again, faint, wry albeit tired humor in his voice. ]
Will you take care of my plastic body if I turn into a mannequin?
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( she looks back, making a face at him, which then slips into a bit of a smile/neutral expression once she returns to preparing him a sandwich. she's starting to learn how his sense of humor works, so it's not like she finds it annoying so much as she's a little worried for him.
though it's good that he can throw some humor in the situation, despite the general sense of anxiety she is getting from him.
quietly, she finishes up putting together the sandwich, grabs one of the disposable plates, and brings it up to him alongside a bottle of water he kept inside the fridge. once he takes it, she toes off her shoes and climbs up his bed, casual and comfortable: legs outstretched, leaning her weight back on her hands. )
If we wait long enough, it might show up again. ( the thieving mannequin ) I can hold it down for you.
( maybe this is her preparing herself to spill the beans about her powers, should he seem receptive enough to it. she'll gauge his reactions from now until then. )
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It's a serious question.
[ A part of him had always possessed some level of dry sometimes morbid sense of humour. It was easier to cope with the situations that he found himself in which was becoming more and more frequent as the years went by as he became more entrenched in the rebellion.
Quietly he accepts the prepared sandwich and drink with a flicker of a smile before beginning to eat. Or at least attempts to. Sure it's just a sandwich but she had still gone out of her way and he's never been one to snub that sort of kindness whether he's comfortable with it or not.
And though Wanda doesn't entertain his "stupid question" when she offers to hold his hitchhiker down he glances up, cockig an eyebrow slightly. ]
You sound like you almost want it to happen.
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wanda shifts at his answer to her statement, sitting up and bringing her legs to curl to the side, leaning in a little, while some space still remains between them. )
I don't want it to happen, but it's probably inevitable.
( listen here... )
I'm offering my help. ( and, ) Take a bite.
( of the sandwich. )
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Are you always prepared for the worst?
[ There isn't a hint of criticism or judgement in his tone. Rather, there's almost an air of acknowledgement, of like seeing like, amongst the joking air because as they both know, this place is never short of chaos. Some people might call it being pessimistic or so on edge that they can't relax - but Cassian had been caught off guard one too many times in his life by now to not at least have some sort of awareness of consequences or actions that followed something he did. ]
Or is there something else you aren't telling me? [ Now is when his tone lightens, all jest, as he finally take a bite. ] Like a past where you fought mannequins that came to life?
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he takes a bite, and it makes her feel all the much better, that she's able to care for someone, do something good with these awful hands of hers. )
I never fought any mannequins that came to life before.
( she did fight droids; however, there is several things about her that she isn't telling him.
her heart beats like a metronome, steady and fast, and wanda doesn't remember a tightness like this in her chest in so long a time. is she afraid? worried? one of her hands curl into a fist, grabbing at some of the blanket. )
I — want to tell you something, but I don't want you to hate me for it.
( for keeping it a secret, for lying by omission. granted, hate is a strong word. she scrunches her nose, upon hearing herself, and shifts back, curled fist unfurling. )
You can't act weird about it.
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A part of him is tempted to say that now that she's told him that it will be incredibly difficult not to - but with how seriously she's framing this, he chooses the smarter decision for once to not say anything that could come off as remotely joking or playful. For some reason he gets the impression that that would only result in her backtracking or pretending that she had never said anything at all.
So instead he stills, lowering the sandwich to the plate once again. ]
It would take a lot for me to hate someone.
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even if she can only control her fear, she wants to, badly, be liked, accepted. finding her place in this new city hasn't been without difficulty, but to just be wanda, a normal human, feels nice, even if just for a while.
so, wanting to trust that this bond she has with cassian is strong and not just ephemeral—his answer and how he's responded with his body language clueing wanda into the fact that he's taking this seriously—she admits in what feels like one beat of her heart, )
I can move things with my mind. ( —and a breath— ) I can feel when these things are nearby if I tried.
( in trying to temper her expectations of his reaction to this, her hands return to holding tightly—the sheet, the fabric of her skirt. she's still nervous about it, despite herself.
(it means a lot to her, however cassian should react.) )
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Though perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. People drawn and dropped here all seem to come from worlds where extraordinary powers were as common as spaceships were in his. All the same, what Wanda describes...doesn't sound so dissimilar to that of how people might speak of the Force.
And his thoughts on the Force, well. To put it bluntly he doesn't believe in it. "Force healers", as some liked to fashion themselves, claimed to be able to help quicken healing or rid someone of aliments altogether but more often than not Cassian had seen it more of a scam than anything else. One of many tricks to try and swindle some credits out of someone desperate for any option to save them.
Were this anyone else he might have dismissed it or reacted in some form of disbelief. But it's Wanda. And he knows, without a shadow of doubt that she isn't lying to him. ]
What do you mean feel things nearby? People? [ His thoughts linger to his mannequin that is still nowhere to be seen. ] Creatures?
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there's relief in it being questions, but she would be foolish to think that she isn't in the hot seat still.
funny, she created this situation for herself.
she swallows, then licks at her bottom lip, thinking for a moment, before casting her gaze down to her lap. )
Everything.
( the word is quiet, mumbled so low it hardly had any air in its syllables. still, because his reaction isn't reactionary, she elaborates with a little more confidence. )
I told you this place is loud. Beyond the noise of the city, it's just — so crowded, and everyone thinks and feels so much— ( it's not something she does intentionally, and yet it feels like a fault of her own. ) These hitchhikers feel different. They feel empty, so if I focus...
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He doesn't expect his question to bring with it some sort of clarity for him as well however. Their first conversation out on the balcony suddenly makes far more sense in hindsight. And at the mention of thoughts and feelings he stills, a long learned impulse to school expression and feelings rising to the surface.
But after a moment he relaxes, reminding himself that there's no reason for him to keep his guard as far up as he does normally. ]
At least they have that going for them.
[ There's a pause as he tries to figure out what to say next. How to react next - and instead he ends up filling the silence with a bite of his sandwich. Silence has never been an uncomfortable hing for him. And in this instance it helps him decide what he wants to ask next and how exactly to ask it without coming across as offensive. ]
...Did you always have these powers?
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🎀 !!