come_sailaway | wake me up when September ends [OTA + closed prompts]

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"April," she repeats, uncertainly. "I ... yes. Erin said you might be able to help, though I'm not sure how? I tried months ago to request a transfer to a different room, and that never went anywhere."

"Huh, I'm not sure either, but hey, I can try! If you're worried about them fucking with you, they won't! At least like, not anymore than they already do by just existing. They're a phobiavore so like, they just naturally feed off of discomfort and confusion." Flan takes the pins and the tiny Cassandra over to the counter, doing the usual mock check-out, and then cracking open the pins and dumping them out so they can sort through them together. "But like, maybe you could ask for a transfer again? It helps if you write it all down so you don't forget you've been talking to April! Also it's too bad they don't have doll clothes here! That would be so much fun!"

"Does writing it down help? Thank you, I'll try that. I ... honestly can't remember if I have talked to her. Though I'm sure I must have."

The safety pins are mostly either the length of her leg or the length of her arm; it takes some searching to find one that's only a little longer than her hand. "This one might work, do you see any others this size?"

"It does! And just in case, write down that you have to text me, and I'll text it back so it's easier for you to keep checking. You probably totally have, but unless April wants you to remember them, you won't! And they really like their privacy! I only got in 'cause they put up a notice asking for help doing inventory and I showed up with donuts and coffee and spent all weekend organizing with them!"

Flan starts sorting the pins to find some of the teeny tiny ones, managing to dig up three more to slide to Cassandra. "There we go! Want me to see if I can find anything else to help?"

"Thank you," she says, still working at maneuvering the first pin through the folds of the handkerchief. "Truly, it's very much appreciated. Could you see if there's anything like ... cord, or very fine twine? Although I don't know how I would cut it to size."

"Oh yeah! And hey, I can cut it for you, if you measure it!" Flan gives Cassandra a thumbs up, and goes looking.

And very soon, she comes back with some embroidery floss and a pair of scissors. She opens up the package and draws out a length of it - and then pulls a few strands apart so Cassandra can have really small ones instead of a thicker rope if she wants. "Just show me where to trim!"

Cassandra measures a few lengths along her now-tiny arm, and indicates a few places for Flan to trim. As soon as the first one's cut, she starts winding it into a makeshift belt.

"That should do," she says after the last one's cut. "Thank you again. I -- is there anything I can do for you?"

"Oh nah, I'm good! This has been so much fun for me! You're like a Borrower! I just wish I had a dollhouse or something for you to explore!" Flan sets the scissors down and leans on the counter while Cassandra gets herself sorted. "I'm half tempted to go find the flowers that got you, but I'd have to make some clothes first! Tiny and naked seems like a good way to get mistaken for a mouse and-"

She very nearly smacks her hands together, then catches herself and instead very softly and gently mimics squishing her palms together.

Cassandra's little huff of laughter can barely be heard. "No, I find I can't recommend tiny and naked at all. I ... admit I don't know where I can go from here, in the absence of a dollhouse."

"You can hang out with me!" Flan leans forward, showing Cassandra the pocket on the front of her overalls. "We'll find somewhere to chill out for a few hours or whatever it takes for you to reverse! Or I can take you back to your room and text April to let us in, and you can hang out there until you're okay! April's your roommate."

Just in case Cassandra's already forgotten about April. It happens!

It's hard to read expressions on such a tiny face, but Cassandra is struggling to keep her own steady anyway. The friendliness, the kindness, from a near-complete stranger, when she's so completely defenseless -- she's terribly afraid that she'll be weeping in a moment if she's not careful.

"I ... I'd be very happy to stay with you. For the time being. If you're sure ...?"

"I'm sure! It's a great excuse to get to know you! Here, let me just-" And Flan quickly digs in the front pocket to make sure there's nothing sharp waiting in there. Thankfully, there's just some cough drops, still in their wrappers, and she sets those down before going back to the wall to grab a pack of tissues. Flan stuffs the front pocket with some of them so Cassandra's not just having to stand against the denim, and then she picks her up to get her settled in. "There we are! Kinda like a ball pit!"

Flan makes sure Cassandra's settled before she starts walking, taking them towards the promenade. "So, what kind of world are you from? I'm from a 2023 Earth, semi-supernatural, pretty atypical historically for Earths!"

It's a very odd experience riding in a pocket, but the padding makes it somewhat more comfortable -- primarily by widening the pocket at the bottom so that her feet aren't trapped between layers of heavy cloth, secondarily by giving her enough lift to be able to keep head and shoulders out in the air. She folds one arm over the rim of the pocket for extra stability, and tries to get used to the sensation of being this close to a massive living breathing wall. Flan is even bigger in proportion to her than the only stone giants she's ever seen up close, the undead ones brought into Whitestone by Delilah Briarwood.

"The world I come from is called Exandria," Cassandra says, half-twisted around so that her voice will carry better up to Flan's ears. "Semi-supernatural -- do you mean there's magic in your Earth? I know in many of them there isn't."

"Ooooo Exandria! Neat! I've never heard of it before but I like the name." She grins down at Cassandra, wondering if maybe she could get her some kind of tiny tea set to drink out of. That would be so, so adorable. "And yeah, we're one of the ones with like, monsters and gods and cults and cursed objects and haunted places! What I did earlier with you? That was me falling, 'cause I joined the cult of Mother Abyss and she gave me the ability to fall - and to make things fall with me! It's pretty handy! Do you guys have supernatural stuff in your world too? Or are you more like, pure-magic rather than fear based?"

"I'm not sure what you mean by supernatural? We've certainly got monsters and gods and haunted places. And cults and cursed objects. Fear based, is that ..."

She pauses and frowns. "Do you know Daisy Tonner?"

"I do!! Daisy's great, isn't she? Anyway yeah like, that kind of world! We're not from the same place but we're def from sister universes! There's a lot of overlap though so like, this is mostly semantics! It only really matters if you're trying to come up with a comprehensive list!"

"Sister universes," she muses. "That's such an odd concept ... Though I suppose not really any more odd than all of us being from different universes in the first place."

She's growing used to the odd slow sway of Flan's movement, though it's also making her uneasy for no reason she can put her finger on.

"Exactly! I've always liked to think about it like a deck of cards all in order! Except of course it goes a lot farther than 52. And you get these clusters of same-type universes where things went different, either by a lot or a little! Y'know, someone's born, someone isn't, a war gets averted, or it's a lot worse! Don't know what makes our worlds different exactly but that's half the fun of it! We might figure it out or we might not."

She finally makes up her mind on where they're headed, going straight to the Sand Dollar. After all, what's better for a two-inch person than an already tiny madeleine!

"Hmm. If there are universes where things went differently only by a very little ... then would the same people exist in each of them, do you think?"

Is this a pointless piece of speculation? Probably, but it feels a little better than wondering how one only has fifty-two cards in a deck.

"They do! It's like, a total crapshoot, but there's totally worlds where it's just your world with a minor - or major - change! It might even be every dimension has a million different variations on minor themes but they don't seem to show up as much. Like in theory, there's a million versions of this world we're in where it changes depending on which flowers we got hit with, or even what we had for breakfast, but in practice? We mostly saw big changes coming through the elevator, and I've yet to meet another version of me! Though it would be cool if they existed!"

Into the Sand Dollar they go, and Flan automatically vaults the front counter, realizing halfway through that there's a tiny Cass in her front pocket. WHOOPS! She gets a hand up, just to make sure Cassandra doesn't fly out. "But! They might, and like, they just didn't show up to me! We'd have to ask actual inter-dimensional travellers what the situation is!"

Cassandra feels the sudden tensing of muscle and braces automatically without knowing what she's bracing for, but the leap still probably would have jostled her badly if Flan hadn't steadied her. She doesn't yelp this time, but it's a near thing.

"If we meet any actual interdimensional travellers," she manages, regaining her composure, "there are any number of things I'd like to ask them. Most likely starting with asking if they can get us out of here, but yes, 'are there other versions of people in different versions of otherwise similar worlds' is an interesting one as well."

"Oh yeah like, that's number one for all of us!" She grabs a plate and the smallest espresso cup there is, and a tiny itty bitty madeleine. "Are you a tea or coffee person? Or are you like me, and you like your drinks full of sugar and/or fruit? Also, yeah that's totally been a question I've asked! Haven't met anyone from one of my neighbouring universes yet, just the sister-ones like where Daisy's from, but I wanna meet another Flan! I figure depending on how this all works out, when I get back to my world, we'll just have to pass ourselves off as twins! I'll make the sacrifice and change my name!"

"Tea for now, please? With -- is there honey?"

The tiny itty bitty madeleine is still about the size of her face, but at least it's small enough for her to handle. The tiny espresso cup is, unfortunately, still about the size of a washbasin for her.

Her eyebrows go up even more fractionally than usual, at the last thing Flan says. "... Do you think that might be possible?"

"There sure is!" Flan gets the hot water going and starts pulling up the teas, and the glass jar with the honey. They're going to have to think of something for her to drink out of since the espresso cup isn't cutting it, and Flan racks her brain.

"Yeah, totally! Like, it's obviously not a guarantee but it's as likely as anything else - maybe even more likely, depending on how we got copied here! Sometimes it's a lot easier to reverse something than to make something new! Anyway, going back probably also depends on what your relationship with yourself is life too. Not everyone is willing to share, even with a version of themselves!" She digs around, coming up with one of those instant creamers, holding it up to Cass to eyeball if it would work. It's still a little big. "In that case, you could probably change your name and become a whole other person, assuming you're not like, a known celebrity where you're from!"

The instant creamer container is still a little big, but more like a pitcher than a washbasin; it might work.

"I ... don't think pretending to be someone else would work," she says carefully, "all things considered. I would like to think I'd be willing to share with myself, but ... honestly I don't know."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject