[Cassian had pulled his jacket over his injured arm rather than trying to work his arm through the sleeve. It doubled well for covering and disguising the sling holding his arm up. He kept his arm close to his side, his good arm still through the other sleeve of his jacket.
For a time he had watched and listened, moving with the flow of the crowd while getting a feel for the planet, its people, and the strange customs that seemed to now also involve picking up colorful boxes from a pool of water.
At the insistence of another member of the community, Cassian had indulged them to avoid causing a scene. A small box, much smaller than many of the others he had seen and a metallic black in color, had floated over to him.
When it opened, he recognized the sliver of technology from home instantly. It was a data file from a droid, and his chest and throat tightened with the realization quickly over-taking him. He removed the silvery disc carefully, holding it by the edges and then tucking it safely into his sling.
He would not find out until much later that the fragment of K-2SO's databank contained only the last 45 seconds of his memory. But they were 45 seconds more than Cassian had had previously.]
[It's not so different, Cassian thinks, from his time spent around various bases on either side of the war. The communal housing is a bit like a stormtrooper's barracks or the common hall barracks at the rebel bases. The latter had always been a bustle of activity and movement, and while this floor lacked the usual discourse of battles, dreams, and wishful thinking, it didn't lack in chatter or space-sharing.
Rather than isolate himself, Cassian shouldered through his injured muscles and healing wounds to force a smile for one of his new neighbors, a small bag hanging off his good shoulder.]
This bed taken?
v. wildcard
[PM me for something specific or if you're looking to have Cassian hit your character up instead.]
Cassian Andor | Star Wars
[Cassian had pulled his jacket over his injured arm rather than trying to work his arm through the sleeve. It doubled well for covering and disguising the sling holding his arm up. He kept his arm close to his side, his good arm still through the other sleeve of his jacket.
iv. friendrFor a time he had watched and listened, moving with the flow of the crowd while getting a feel for the planet, its people, and the strange customs that seemed to now also involve picking up colorful boxes from a pool of water.
At the insistence of another member of the community, Cassian had indulged them to avoid causing a scene. A small box, much smaller than many of the others he had seen and a metallic black in color, had floated over to him.
When it opened, he recognized the sliver of technology from home instantly. It was a data file from a droid, and his chest and throat tightened with the realization quickly over-taking him. He removed the silvery disc carefully, holding it by the edges and then tucking it safely into his sling.
He would not find out until much later that the fragment of K-2SO's databank contained only the last 45 seconds of his memory. But they were 45 seconds more than Cassian had had previously.]
v. floor 6
[It's not so different, Cassian thinks, from his time spent around various bases on either side of the war. The communal housing is a bit like a stormtrooper's barracks or the common hall barracks at the rebel bases. The latter had always been a bustle of activity and movement, and while this floor lacked the usual discourse of battles, dreams, and wishful thinking, it didn't lack in chatter or space-sharing.
Rather than isolate himself, Cassian shouldered through his injured muscles and healing wounds to force a smile for one of his new neighbors, a small bag hanging off his good shoulder.]
This bed taken?
v. wildcard
[PM me for something specific or if you're looking to have Cassian hit your character up instead.]