not_the_last (Cassandra de Rolo) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
not_the_last) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2023-09-11 12:48 pm
not_the_last) wrote in come_sailaway2023-09-11 12:48 pm
wake me up when September ends [OTA + closed prompts]
Who: Cassandra de Rolo, OTA + closed prompts
When: September
Where: Around the Serena Eterna
What: Flowers and their curious effects
Warnings: Game-typical angst; further content warnings in headers as they come up. The prompts below are occurring in no particular order over the course of the month.
1. summer has come and passed; the innocent can never last
Vivid purple-blue and yellow pansies nod at her from where they've twined up the banister along the stairwell, almost brushing her shoulder as she hurries by.
Later -- well, Cassandra isn't in large crowds very often these days, is she? But someone at the buffet on this particular morning may overhear the murmur you don't need more than one slice; someone in just the right part of the Promenade a little later may overhear there's a clear path to the stairwell if he comes this way; someone passing by Sundries in the next five minutes may overhear still need to talk to Valdis about the gun.
2. ring out the bells again, like we did when spring began
In a corner of the library there's a spreading cluster of the tiny white flowers of baby's breath, looking sweet and harmless.
On a comfortable chair not very far from that point is a pile of cloth that might, on closer study, resolve itself into a dark grey skirt, a white blouse, a blue and grey patterned waistcoat, and a leather belt with a bag attached on one side and a sheathed rapier on the other. The pile is oddly arranged, as though the person wearing the clothes had vanished from inside them while still sitting there; as though to support this image, a pair of sturdy brown boots is on the floor in front of the chair.
On top of the pile is a two-inch-tall Cassandra, bundled in in the stiff and voluminous folds of a dainty silk handkerchief, struggling to press buttons on a phone that is now bigger than she is.
(The screen currently reads ERIN ITS CA)
[Note: this prompt is not closed to Erin! Anyone is welcome to happen upon tiny Cass while she's trying to text.]
3. drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are [closed to Phil]
A patch of poppies has sprung up on the rooftop that's one of the Serena's highest points, where few can climb. With the number of passengers that can fly, that's less a guarantee than it might be, but Cassandra still seeks solitude up there every so often -- and today, that means she falls asleep there, with vivid red petals pooled around her dark head.
In the dream she's twelve again, lined up with her brothers and sisters in their finery, excited about the visiting strangers and the welcome feast that's about to begin.
4. seven years have gone so fast
Wildcard! If you want to talk to Cassandra at a point where she is not affected by flower nonsense, feel free. Message me here or on discord if you'd like an individual prompt.
When: September
Where: Around the Serena Eterna
What: Flowers and their curious effects
Warnings: Game-typical angst; further content warnings in headers as they come up. The prompts below are occurring in no particular order over the course of the month.
1. summer has come and passed; the innocent can never last
Vivid purple-blue and yellow pansies nod at her from where they've twined up the banister along the stairwell, almost brushing her shoulder as she hurries by.
Later -- well, Cassandra isn't in large crowds very often these days, is she? But someone at the buffet on this particular morning may overhear the murmur you don't need more than one slice; someone in just the right part of the Promenade a little later may overhear there's a clear path to the stairwell if he comes this way; someone passing by Sundries in the next five minutes may overhear still need to talk to Valdis about the gun.
2. ring out the bells again, like we did when spring began
In a corner of the library there's a spreading cluster of the tiny white flowers of baby's breath, looking sweet and harmless.
On a comfortable chair not very far from that point is a pile of cloth that might, on closer study, resolve itself into a dark grey skirt, a white blouse, a blue and grey patterned waistcoat, and a leather belt with a bag attached on one side and a sheathed rapier on the other. The pile is oddly arranged, as though the person wearing the clothes had vanished from inside them while still sitting there; as though to support this image, a pair of sturdy brown boots is on the floor in front of the chair.
On top of the pile is a two-inch-tall Cassandra, bundled in in the stiff and voluminous folds of a dainty silk handkerchief, struggling to press buttons on a phone that is now bigger than she is.
(The screen currently reads ERIN ITS CA)
[Note: this prompt is not closed to Erin! Anyone is welcome to happen upon tiny Cass while she's trying to text.]
3. drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are [closed to Phil]
A patch of poppies has sprung up on the rooftop that's one of the Serena's highest points, where few can climb. With the number of passengers that can fly, that's less a guarantee than it might be, but Cassandra still seeks solitude up there every so often -- and today, that means she falls asleep there, with vivid red petals pooled around her dark head.
In the dream she's twelve again, lined up with her brothers and sisters in their finery, excited about the visiting strangers and the welcome feast that's about to begin.
4. seven years have gone so fast
Wildcard! If you want to talk to Cassandra at a point where she is not affected by flower nonsense, feel free. Message me here or on discord if you'd like an individual prompt.
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Beat.
Beat.
Beat beat beat.
"Cassdoyouwanttohavetinyadventures?"
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Blinkblink.
"... Tiny adventures?"
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"How," she starts, and can't finish the sentence for laughing.
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"It's...one of my favorite parts of shapeshifting, honestly."
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(How do you do that, is what she was trying to ask, or something like it. How do you make such joy out of such ridiculous and terrible things.)
On impulse, she turns her head so she can press a kiss to Erin's palm. "You have the most splendid ideas," she says, her voice still half catching on laughter. "By all means, let's have a tiny adventure."
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It's a good feeling.
The journey back to her cabin is pleasant enough, and Erin chats away with some recent gossip; she met a new shapeshifter ("Gremlin-ass youngblood, I won't spoil the surprise too much"), died like a punk-ass bitch in the melee, expounds a bit on the game she's making...
Once they're inside, Erin sets Cass down on the battlements of her doll castle, and carefully folds her lover's clothes so they can be set on Erin's bed, with her other items next to them. All laid out for -
- for -
"...Shit we should probably bring these with us," Erin realizes with a laugh. "Or you'll just have this problem again if it turns out the flower's got a short fuse. You being suddenly naked in public is a my-fantasies-only kinda event, I suspect. Feel free to explore the castle, I gotta slip into my Hollow and get some thorns and wood."
Things Erin doesn't know: the castle is stocked.
Further things she doesn't know: that includes the wardrobes.
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She waits for a beat as Erin vanishes into the Hollow, and then turns to look at the castle. It's not precisely to her scale, or even precisely to scale with itself, but it's close enough for her to move comfortably through it. Climb stairs, open doors ... including wardrobe doors.
And, even more intriguing, including the door to the room near the castle's front gate, which proves to be an armory.
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Which is why when Erin emerges, she's going to hear some odd clinking noises coming from the interior of the castle, along with the very tiny but strangely loud sound of shuffling feet.
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"...Cass?" Erin's being slightly louder than she has to be. "You still exploring the castle?"
For the love of God don't tell her Cass managed to get kidnapped out of the locked cabin.
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In the castle's entryway there is now a little heap of equipment, mostly weapons of various sizes but also including two large (in proportion) carrysacks. Cassandra is just emerging from the little room beside the front entrance, dragging what appears to be an armor stand.
Oh yes -- she's also now wearing doll clothes. Specifically, a silk camisole-like shirt that was originally half of a set of pajamas, and a pair of dark gray trousers that are only slightly too big for her, cinched in at the waist with a green sash.
TO THE CHEESE SHOP
AWAAAAY!
As it turns out, she can. And fairly soon Cassandra is perched on Erin's shoulder again, hanging on by the collar, while Erin carries her clothes and other effects in the Bag of Holding. Shortly (how else?), they're at the entrance to the infinite cheese shop.
"Do you want to get us anywhere in particular before you shrink down?" she asks, eyeing the cavernous opening ahead.
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(Pet her.)
Yeah no she hasn't asked.
(BUT SHE'S SO SMALL.)
And she'll ask.
Erin strides off confidently, humming a happy tune.
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And it's easy to see. Erin has chosen a table with many, many different kinds of cheeses in various displays, which means it is a tiny continent unto itself full of all kinds of different terrain, one Erin is all too happy to set Cass on the edge of.
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"We're going hiking, then? I'm glad I dressed for it."
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Erin backs away from the table once Cass is settled, takes a running jump at it, and shrinks mid-flight. She lands hard and running, laughing the entire time, ending in a controlled fall onto her ass.
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"You're all right?" It's barely a question; of course she's all right.
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She's genuinely interested; the physics of the situation haven't really occurred to her yet.
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"I think ... I don't need to know badly enough to test it by jumping," she decides, and grins at Erin. "Let's climb some cheese mountains instead, shall we?"