are you out there? can you hear this?

[not_the_last]

Who: Cassandra de Rolo & OTA
When: November
Where: Around the Serena Eterna
What: on all levels but physical/literal, shouting into the void
Warnings: Game-typical angst, canon-typical angst, others to be added as they come up

A. what's the future, who will choose it

She's ... anxious, she decides, is the right word. Anxious about the Voyager plan. What if it gets discovered and stopped, what if it proceeds as planned but fails to break out of the demiplane, what if it reaches the outer world and is discovered by something only interested in taking advantage of whatever it finds --

The anxiety never gets anywhere near the point of making her want to call a halt to it. Not this time.

Still, she does find herself wandering about near the signpost and its accompanying book, to see who's writing in it. Not that it makes any difference, but ... it's something she can keep an eye on.

B. you never know who's still awake

Cassandra is rarely if ever to be seen around the buffet these days. One might spot her in the kitchens, though, usually very late at night, usually making something involving potatoes and/or cheese. Sometimes, similarly late at night, she might carry a snack to eat elsewhere around the ship; usually more cheese, with crackers, or cured meat, or a little jar of jam or relish of some kind. Usually somewhere that doesn't attract a lot of people, as though reluctant to eat in company with anyone.

Are you up very late and avoiding company too? You might run into her.

C. play the madmen poets

She's aware that it's unwise, perhaps now more than ever, to do anything to shut out or dull her awareness of her surroundings. Nonetheless: it may also be something she needs now more than ever.

As a compromise, she's only using her music player when she's got a good view of the rest of her surroundings, or when she's otherwise fairly sure nothing can get close to her without her knowing. So 'while flying' is a good option, as far from the ship as she can get while still able to make it back before her wings fail; another is perched on a high roof or crows' nest, some spot she can only get to by flying. And occasionally, very occasionally, in the library while seated with her back to a wall

There's so much music in this little box, and she still hasn't heard all of it. This month she's working her way through the repertoire of a bard with a rough but compelling voice, and trying to make out what his verses are talking about. (You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows is possibly the first intelligible thing he's said in this song, and she still isn't sure what he means by it.)

D. wildcard

Comments

[not_the_last]

Cassandra's eyes widen, but otherwise she doesn't move.

(Blue skin, said Phil's warning text, big bat wings, red hair --)

"Word or no," she says, as calmly as she can manage, which is considerably so, "I see no reason to attack you. Would you care to join me?"

[angelofthenight]

"I can see the fear in your eyes. You do not really want me to join you. And you are right to fear me. I want nothing good for your kind." She's already shifting backward into the shadows.

[not_the_last]

"Fear doesn't rule me," she says, her chin lifting, smiling slightly. "And it needn't rule you either. Though if you don't wish to stay, that is of course your prerogative."

[angelofthenight]

"Fear does not rule me," her eye flash red as she says this. Then, she drops suddenly from the ceiling onto all fours in front of Cassandra.

"Why do you keep taking meals alone like this?"

[not_the_last]

With immense, long-practiced self-control (which is to say, with years of cultivating a freeze response to being startled), she does not flinch back.

"Perhaps I don't wish to invite commentary on my dining choices," she answers coolly.

True? Absolutely. The entire truth? Not remotely.

[angelofthenight]

"By acting strangely, you have invited them." She doesn't move closer, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't enjoying provoking that freeze response.

"Humans are usually social creatures. Have you been shunned?"

[not_the_last]

"Not lately," she says, her tone tea-table polite, as though she's been asked if she has gone for a stroll in the gardens. "Have you?"

[angelofthenight]

"For most of my life, yes," Demona answers frankly. "Some here try to claim this ship will be different. What do you think?"

[not_the_last]

"I'm sure I couldn't say. Though if not being human has been an issue for you elsewhere, I don't believe it will be here. Surely you've seen by now how many people here aren't human."

With careful, deliberate slowness, she takes a bite of bread and chews.

[angelofthenight]

"Yes, I have seen and met many non-humans aboard. And some who claim to be human despite looking quite the opposite." Erin. Mostly Erin.

She doesn't react at all to watching Cassandra take that careful bite, but she is watching.

"Do you like it here?"

[not_the_last]

"It's a prison," she says levelly.

[angelofthenight]

"Finally," Demona says forgetting that she's supposed to hate Cassandra for being human, "Someone speaking sense."

[not_the_last]

Cassandra's eyebrows rise slightly. "Oh, you haven't been talking to nearly enough people here if this is the first time you've heard that sentiment. You and I are far from the only ones."

[angelofthenight]

"I wouldn't know it by looking. Too many here seem content with their lots." She's overheard inane conversations from the shadows, about clothing choices or dating, nonsense drama that shouldn't be important here.

"No, I haven't spoken to many people," for multiple reasons. But the one she chooses to disclose is. "Most of you would be in bed by now."

[not_the_last]

"I see. I tend to be restless at night, myself."

In light of the warning from Phil, this conversation feels increasingly bizarre. Not in a way that's unfamiliar, though; it's far from the first time she's held polite conversation with someone she knew could easily kill her in a heartbeat, and might decide to.

okay to wrap?

[angelofthenight]

"That is because you appear to have better instincts. Humans should always be wary of the dark."

And, because Demona does love her dramatics, she takes that as her cue to sink her claws into the walls and scale them up until she can once more slip into the shadows of the ceiling.

"Things like me lurk there."

okay!

[not_the_last]

"Perhaps I'll see you there again. Good evening."

She waits until she's quite sure Demona isn't going to answer that, and then with that same slow deliberation, she resumes eating.