OPEN | i know my call.

[evite]

who: skye — or, as she'll be soon known, daisy johnson — and you.
what: a post canon-update catch-all.
when: throughout october.
where: city-wide.
warnings: discussion of past trauma, violence, and death likely. will update if anything specific.

@ the gym.

[ she's been to the gym before. this gym, even. granted, it's mostly been to swipe an apple from the welcome desk or to sneak in a shower in between greasy sessions of swinging a monkey wrench around like she knows what to do with it, but she's been here before. people might even recognize her.

or, more accurately: they might catch recognition in the profile, but there's something off about her. something different. she's grown up, if you will.

today, she's busying herself in a small room off to the side. it's usually set aside for games of sport, squash or racquetball or other "old men in tight white shorts" sort of sports, but today she's claimed it as her own. there's a tennis ball launcher on one side of the room; the net's been torn down, though, and all along the floor lay squashed remains of formerly functional, dingy tennis balls.

what's happened to them? well, she's happened to them. what's she doing? well, she's standing, mostly; her feet purposefully set shoulder-width apart, her hand outstretched towards the opposite side of the room — with each launched object comes a burst of focused vibrational energy, and the ball is rocketed towards one wall or another with an echoing thwap of sound.

hopefully no one opens the door... or a ball might just ricochet into somebody's face instead. #whoops ? ]

@ the park.

[ it seems like a good place to go. even with the #2spooky4u festivities going on around the city, her favorite stretch of grass and trees remains blissfully un-decorated, with only the seasonal shift in foliage to augment the view. instead of green as far as the eye can see, now there's splotches of brown and orange and red blended into the canopy; instead of soft spring grass or the soft scratch of its summertime weeds, there's the content crunch of browned leaves under her feet and plenty of bare patches to spread out a blanket.

as luck would have it, the park's apparently not just her favorite spot today. no, with the festivities occupying most of the more common gathering places, the local youths (!!) have begun to congregate in these stretches of bare ground, using them as launching pads for their collection of model plans and drones and other flying contraptions. it wouldn't be terrible... but of course, it also can't just be about flying things. no, small children have to be obnoxious with their toys, and these hooligans are no different: they set their drones to swoop down and scare innocent passersby, knocking off caps and startling pacifiers right out of babies' mouths.

suffice it to say, she's a little annoyed at the intrusion... which might explain why she's opted to go for the nuclear option: since she probably shouldn't quake it out of the sky, maybe hacking into the nearby wifi signal to adjust the course of one of the planes might do the trick. only — fuck, who's phone is this? and why is it suddenly blaring cheesy 90s pop hits?

#whoops part two? ]

@ wherever.

[ wildcard option, ya dig? i'll throw closed starters in comments, but feel free to hit me up if you want something for your special self. ]

Comments

[realists]

[ can't a girl just make out and subsequently nap with her boyfriend in peace? all she wanted was a nap but here is cassian shaking her awake and there is skye's voice drifting through the house. this is not the weirdest wake up she's ever had -- she's in a bed, for one, she's in her bed, and she's woken up on many a strange ship before but.

why is skye in her house during nap time?

not bothering to put pants on under her too big (stolen from cassian) sweater, she pads over and sweeps open the door, peering blearily into the hallway. ]

Hey Skye. [ so casual. what is breaking and entering between friends? she finally spots her through the open attic stairs, squinting into the opening at the other woman while cassian does put pants on. ] What's up?

[ is she coming to show off her hair cut? that's fair. ]

[evite]

[ does it count as breaking and entering if the skylight was open? she technically didn't break anything. she just... entered. it'd be the same as if they had left the front door open. which, okay, they didn't — but does it matter?

more importantly, why does someone saying skye make her head hurt a little? why does that voice in the back of her head say they should know your name by now as if they don't know it? why does it insist on repeating the name of a flower — ] Daisy, [ out loud, as if they should know better? memories are fucked up. ]

I mean, my name is Daisy. [ god, she sounds like a crazy person. ] And I have a ghost problem.

[ enter ghost lincoln, looking like the transparent member of a futuristic boyband, waving awkwardly at everyone involved. ]

He won't leave.

[evasives]

[cassian wakes up the moment the first rock hits the window, but it's the second one that stirs him fully conscious, because two repetitive sounds is not an accident. he hears their names too, muffled through the windows as more rocks collide, and he shakes jyn awake immediately.]

[he stumbles out of bed before her which allows him a few moments to pull on his pants, but it's jyn who manages to open the door first in the meantime. he meanders behind her without grabbing a shirt thanks to jyn's inviting the situation before he gets the chance, cracking the door open more enough to peer out over her shoulder.]

[his body tenses on seeing the ghost, if only because that's probably a good natural reaction to seeing another ghost after a bunch of the tried to kill you. he does not even think about her name preference, maybe she has a reason for it! he's got a bucket full of aliases.]

And you think we have suddenly found a method to get rid of them?

[evite]

[ cassian's question clearly hits close to home; with the drop of his lifted hand, lincoln the ghostboy suddenly looks all too similar to a puppy who's just been kicked. daisy, you want to get rid of me comes out on a wail, and she can only cringe, clearly uncomfortable. ]

I mean... yeah? [ yeah, she wants to get rid of him? or yeah, she thinks casa del spacebuddies has a ghostbuster proton pack in the attic? either or. ] Is that weird?

[ ghost lincoln frowns. as his transparent body — form? mass? how do you describe a ghost? — hovers over the floor, soft orange-red sparks shine in his wake, born of the friction between specter and what looks like a surprisingly clean rug. ]

I got a memory capsule and now I'm apparently going through an identity crisis that comes with ghost buddies of dead — [ boyfriends, offers ghost lincolnk, but daisy just shakes her head. they weren't ever ... that. officially speaking. and then he died. ] — guys. Ghosts. Ghost guys.

[realists]

[ ghosts of boyfriends past. jyn gets why daisy -- daisy, not skye, and jyn simply takes it in stride, she has more aliases than she has friends -- came to them specifically. ]

Come on, then.

[ into the kitchen jyn goes, gesturing daisy (and lincoln) to follow. it's time for tea and junk food and convincing a ghost to leave her friend alone. she should probably put pants on but she's not about that life, instead putting the space kettle on. ]

The ghosts are from the festival. It sounds like bad timing. [ they'd avoided them last year by not going out of the house at all for over a week, but this year their strategy was more YOLO. ] These ones are harmless, just... persistent.

[evite]

[ ghost lincoln makes an affronted sound at being called harmless, but the knot in the pit of daisy's stomach releases just as fast. she hadn't realized she'd been so wound up — though why wouldn't she be? the most recent quarantine experience with ghosts had only been murderous transparent devils who feasted on negativity, so why wouldn't this sudden spectre surprise be a miserable one too?

thank god for tea. and snacks. she's very fond of snacks, and very glad her space soulsister shares an understanding that food makes everything better. ]

Oh, thank god. [ whatever seating arrangement there is, daisy sinks into one of the available seats, because she cannot be bothered to stand any longer. ] I was so not prepared to deal with another round of "I'm sorry it's my fault you died, but I really want to sleep now, so fuck off".

[ it's not your fault, whines ghost lincoln, and daisy just groans. ]

How much longer is the festival?

[evasives]

[on one hand, maybe it speaks to daisy's thoughts of their competence level that she's come to them with a ghost problem, but on the other, he isn't sure how that makes him feel? she is jyn's friend more than his, even if they have all experienced several levels of terrible Ghost Stories.]

[he follows after them into the kitchen once he finds his shirt. while jyn fiddles with the kettle, cassian digs out some cookies - homemade! - and crackers, who knows what daisy's stomach can handle right now.]

The Festival is just about a week, but the ghosts tend to linger around all month. [it feels more manageable this year, but last october, he and jyn did virtually lock themselves away for a month.] If there is a way to make them leave, we have not discovered it. Unless it has changed from last year, they will not... attack us like the ones outside the wall.

[evite]

[ she'll eat the hell out of anything you put in front of her, cassian, but at least she'll do it with a thank you. even if it is mumbled in between bites. the attempt is there. foster mom number six would be proud. ]

Huh. [ there is some small comfort in knowing that the ghost of her former... romantic liason... won't try to suffocate her in her sleep with his transparent (and probably freezing cold) hands. it's not much, but there's something. ] So basically this place picked the absolute worst possible time to give me this memory jump.

[ as per usual? ]

[realists]

[ this is why jyn wifed him tbh. he feeds her constantly. ]

Yeah, pretty much. They talk, sometimes incessantly, but that's about it. [ it makes her really miss taako on a purely pragmatic level. not because she has emotions or anything, but because taako put that ward on their apartment and he could have done the same to their house and daisy's home, but nope. he's gone.

fucker. ]

You can stay with us if you want. I'll run interference with... what's his name.

[evite]

[ ghost lincoln waits for half a second, presumably to see if daisy will introduce him; when she doesn't (too busy stuffing her face with a very soft cookie) there's an annoyed huff of displeasure and an irritable lincoln. lincoln campbell. we were — before daisy shuts him up with a grumbled, ] Enough.

[ she doesn't want to relive her history. afterlife was confusing enough; losing lincoln in a sleight-of-hand martyr trick was worse. ]

You don't have to do that. [ she doesn't want to be in the way. ] I just didn't know what to do.