open | now give me something to believe in.

[interroga]

WHO: Cassian Andor & you
WHAT: A liaison from the Shadow Dragons arrives
WHEN: Bloomingtide
WHERE: Minrathous + Kirkwall
NOTES: Some injury description

arrival.

It’s a late spring night when a stranger arrives at the Widow Tavisa’s Boarding House.

Most regular guests would take the front entrance and speak to the innkeeper in the main room; but this one slips through the back entrance and takes an out-of-the-way servant’s staircase, into a shuttered wing of the building which isn’t supposed to be open to the public. But those rare people in the know might be aware that this leads to Riftwatch’s secret outpost in Minrathous —

The darkhaired man slumps against the locked door leading into their safehouse. He knocks on the door in a fixed, staccato rhythm identifying him as an ally. He has a hand pressed to his side with worrisome urgency, jaw tight and teeth gritted against the pain; he knocks again a little louder, in case whoever’s on watch is dozing.

No one’s expecting a new arrival right at this hour. It’s not ideal.

settling in.

After finally getting vetted and officially joining, Cassian tucks the Riftwatch pin into his pocket and starts to get the lay of the land, gathering information, pressing a finger to the pulse of this new city he’s going to be calling home.

There’s a kind of amiable affability to this new arrival, his smile calculated to be inoffensive and mild, even as the gears are very busily ticking away behind his dark-brown eyes.

You might find him at the Gallows bar, pouring himself a drink and smoothly sliding into the chair at your table to pry: “So, what’s your favourite place in the Gallows or Kirkwall?”

Or wandering the battlements of the towers and looking out across the city. Rebuilding is expensive, and so some parts of Kirkwall still bear the marks of the Venatori attack a little over a year ago: collapsed buildings that never got raised again, battle-scars and scorch marks from dracolisks. “What was it like?” he asks. “The Venatori attack.”

He also goes for long walks through the city, right past the alienage (although his gaze lingers), and venturing into the deeper recesses of the city slums. One particular afternoon, he emerges from Darktown blinking half-blinded into the dim light of Lowtown, which is right about when a few thieves assemble around him for an attempted mugging, knives brandished. “I really don’t have time for this,” he says to the ringleader, looking more annoyed than frightened; which is right about when a Riftwatch colleague might turn the corner and encounter the scene.


( Also happy to receive wildcards, or to write up a bespoke starter for you; just hmu @ quadrille if you’d like to discuss! )

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[interroga]

“This is the part where you distract me while you work, right?” Cassian says to the ceiling with a small smile, accepting his fate. If it were a worse injury, there’d be more to worry about here. But it’s just another day, another natural consequence of the job, and her strategy’s a standard strategy for a reason. Unfortunately —

“It’s a shithole,” he says, frankly. “Great for people with magic, awful for people without. A lot like Lowtown, in your Kirkwall. But… I don’t know, that isn’t a reason not to try to make it better. Shabby, but there’s community. Great street food.”

Another hiss of breath. At least her hands are steady.

[armd]

Abby chuckles but says nothing else, waiting — eventually he does reply. Playing along. She tries not to squeeze the wound too hard while she keeps it closed with one hand, pressing the needle in with the other.

"What kind of street food? That was my favourite thing about Kirkwall when I got here for the first time. They have good markets on in the weekends." And she likes good, fresh, delicious food. It was a treat at home and it's a treat here too.

A gentle trickle of water to flush a path out for her work — she smudges blood with her thumb, keeps working.

[interroga]

“You’ll have to show me your favourites, then, when I get there.”

When, not if. It’s making some assumptions about Riftwatch taking him in long-term, but he knows his credentials are legit. And even bleeding into her hands, there’s an easy friendliness to the man when he has this mask on: he is warm and amiable and even a little lightly flirtatious, seen from a certain angle. It’s often been the best way to smooth over social interactions and get people to like him, he’s found.

But then, a bit of sincerity slips through, thoughtful: “In all my work, I’ve mostly stayed in the Imperium. Never been to Kirkwall. How would you describe it?”

[armd]

"I'll show you a favourite." Lightly flirtatious meet lightly flirtatious — but it's Abby's version of flirting, "And then we'll reassess." But she's grinning a little anyway. He'll fit in well with everybody else...

His next question gets a hum, then an accidental pause. She's knotting off the stitch thread and concentrating on that, producing a little blade from the bundle of first aid supplies with which to sever the extra. Another moment of silence sees her studying her own work, wicking away a bit more blood with her thumb, quick, practised. "It's — busy. And more people live there than there's room for." It doesn't look like it in Hightown and really looks like it in Lowtown.

"'Kay, you're good. I've ruined your interview outfit though."

poss yours to wrap? they can bond again on the 🔪 mission 🔪

[interroga]

Cassian exhales the breath he’d been holding in his lungs, letting it rattle out, and his side feels better. There’s still the stinging pain of an agitated wound, but it’s sealed up and no longer actively leaking out into his clothes, so at least the immediate risk is gone. Her work is clean.

“If the Scoutmaster throws me out on my ass, I’ll blame you,” he says, lightly. “Or who knows, maybe it’ll give me some street cred—”

And then he rises to his feet, wavering a little, but his step steadies.

“Thanks again. You okay bringing me through, or should we wait for morning? It’s not urgent— I don’t have news of an imminent Venatori attack or anything.”

He doesn’t know this end of their procedures: whether it’s better to clear him straightaway, or wait for someone else to relieve Abby’s watch on the safehouse first. He’s antsy to keep moving and see Kirkwall now that he’s made it this far, but it’s not worth waking up their leadership and pissing them off with sleep deprivation; if he has to wait, he’ll sit tight.

WRAPS 🎀

[armd]

"Can you be gentle?" has none of the playfulness of earlier. She's turned her head to frown at him as he gets up and tests putting his weight on the stabbed side. Everything will hold — she's confident in her work — but even so. "You're welcome."

After staring pointedly at his side and deciding the blood on the shirt is just the blood on the shirt that was there before and nothing new, she relents, joins him in standing. "Yeah, c'mon."

There's somebody on the other side within shouting distance she can pass him off to in the interest of returning to her post as soon as possible — and besides, she'd love a moment to wash her hands...

"I'll take you through."