𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 ✧ 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚜

[realists]

who: jyn erso & open!
what: flooding, monsters, flowers, miniatures
when: late march through april
where: around the quarantine
warnings: violence for monster/sparring threads & frighteningly adorable tiny children

---

( and ideas, they flood, they stretch the universe. )

Comments

[realists]

[ jyn thinks about pulling his hair to make a point but then she remembers that her hair hurt yesterday so she refrains out of love and affection. and because she doesn't know if she could make a fist. ]

Yeah I could. I'll do it tomorrow. Schedule it.

[evasives]

[don't pull his hair! he is so comfortable here in her lap, as relaxed as one can be when they're sick out of their minds. he wants to take her hand, but he's also snug too nearly in his blankets.]

I will write you in between puking. Avoid my head, it's pounding.

[realists]

Don't say puking.

[ she'll want to puke. ]

What's the point of this medicine if it doesn't even work.

[ why aren't they magically better with the introduction of medicine, this is garbage. ]

[evasives]

Medicines needs time to work.

[apparently. he doesn't know how to handle being sick, at least the kind of sick he can't ignore, he's too weak to ignore this.]

We can file a complaint if it takes more than a few days to kick in. [can they tho.]

[realists]

[ her hand stops moving, just resting in his hair because she's tired. ]

A few days is too long.

[ they'll be dead in a few days, she's certain. and what a punk ass way to die, from getting sick. how banal and pathetic. she's better than this, they're better than this. they've survived too many impossible odds to go out like this. ]

[evasives]

[he tilts his head just enough to look at her. not because she stopped petting his hair, just because she sounds so sad and whiny and even in this Tired state, he wants to comfort her too.]

We can make tea too. We are going to be fine, Jyn.

[obviously!! this sick is kicking their ass, but they have both been through worse. at least now with this, they are together.]

[realists]

[ her nose crinkles, half annoyed that her weakness was obvious enough that he'd show concern. ]

How do you propose we make tea, Cassian, neither of us can get up.

[ just

pointing that out. ]

[evasives]

[oh no the nose crinkle. how adorable. he thinks about telling her, but he knows it wouldn't go over well.]

Maybe we can pay someone to make it for us.

[ignoring that he doesn't really want anyone else to see him in this state. desperate times call for desperate tea measures??]

[realists]

We'd get them sick.

[ she doesn't want to get any of the, like, four people she allows in the apartment sick. that's mean. she also doesn't want any of those four people to see her like this. ]

I miss Bodhi.

[evasives]

Not if we don't touch them.

[since it seems like it's more touch based a contaminate. the moment she says bodhi though, cassian wriggles his hand free to search for hers. it takes a lot of effort and he's already laying on her, but there's something about holding her hand.]

I miss him too.

[realists]

I never touch anyone, [ she grouses, even as she catches his hand, twisting their fingers together. there's always been something easy about holding his hand and now it makes her feel safe, home. ]

I wish he'd stayed.

[ not that any of them had much of a choice, but nor did they have anything to go back to. bodhi was being returned to death and he definitely didn't belong there. ]

[evasives]

What, do I not count? [she is literally touching him right now! and he is too tired and sick and grouchy to care about watching his words. he'll grab her hand again if she tries to take it away!]

[he squeezes it instead, the only bit of comfort he can muster with his current strength.] So do I. [he pauses, coughs a little.] It makes no sense. We are all displaced.

[realists]

No, you don't.

[ cassian is immune to so many of her generalizations when it comes down to it, but he definitely never counts in "everyone" or "anyone". neither had bodhi, frankly, and neither would baze or chirrut. there is just something about that core group of people that will always render her defenses useless. ]

It's kriffed up. [ her fingers leave his hair briefly to touch her necklace, feeling the etched words under her finger tips. ] Mama would tell us to trust the Force, but the Force is a Hutt's arse.

[evasives]

[they're sick and gross but the comment still... makes him feel a little warm inside. he is quite obviously outside her "do not touch" rules, but hearing it aloud is such a nice feeling.]

[he lets it slide, afraid if he comments anything about it she'll take it back or brush it off.]

The Force and I have never seemed to be on the save wavelength. [it was always better to just trust in himself.]

[and now jyn too, of course.] We should all be here.

[realists]

No.

[ she shakes her head, seeming to come to a decision, fingers falling back to comb through his hair again. ]

Baze and Chirrut are together, that is where they should be.

[evasives]

[his eyes close again once her hand starts up in his hair. he's so tired. what if he just went to sleep, right here and now.]

They could be together here, but... the together is most important.

[he guesses.]

[realists]

Move over, I wanna lay down, too. [ she'll still pet his hair, she's just too tired to keep sitting up. ]

[evasives]

[he shuffles himself, leaving enough space for her to crawl in next to him - with the right angle of course because does not want her to stop playing with his hair. he needs to figure out how to get her to do this when he isn't sick.]

Come here.

[realists]

[ jyn curls into the space he's made for her, sniffling and then sighing as her fingers go back to sliding through his hair. being sick is truly awful. they could be murdered right now and neither of them would be able to fight off their assailant.

at least they're not alone. ]

I might sleep.

[evasives]

[he supposes it's better to be sick with her, because then they get to do this. they still get to wind up together and be a little bit comfortable, however sore the rest of the physical existence is.]

[he sighs as contentedly as he can, then coughs a little.]

Not if I fall asleep first.

[realists]

Don't be childish, [ jyn says in the most childish tone even. their bickering continues, slower and slower and slower with longer pauses between everyone comment until the pauses become sleep. ]