queenofseers | ic inbox (mask or menace)

[ She's on the verge of telling him to quit it when she sees him move onto the towels, but she's also on the verge of giving up on stopping him altogether. Clearly he isn't going to stop easily, and she's known Rex to be stalwart if anything; she doesn't doubt that he'd go out of his way to help anyone he cared about, even if jumping to potentially considering her family feels strange. She opens her mouth to stay something, and makes a small noise as if about to speak, then stops.

She leans her elbow on the table, rubbing one of her temples. She is starting to feel drowsy, but she doubts she'd sleep comfortably. ]

With the people I know? Make sure they don't destroy anything. Make sure they're not partying themselves too hard. Try to actually figure out what the problem is, not that they're good at telling me.

[ She doesn't mean it to be a dig at Rex, but it kind of is. But it's also, unintentionally a dig at herself. Evens out. ]

Well. I'm hardly worried about the first two.

[ Cassandra may seem as though she has an explosive temper from speaking with her - and in many ways, she does - but she's never been at all destructive. And partying too much? No. Not a chance.

(And, frankly, he's not self-aware enough to consider how any of these can apply to him. He's too sensible for that sort of behaviour, after all, and too resilient to let things bother him more than he ought to.)

He finishes folding the last towel and shuts the drawer, each item in its place. ]

Though if you want to discuss anything else - [ though this doesn't apply to Cassandra either; Rex knows what the problem is, and it's that di'kut Woden burning down the very house he'd built for himself ] - my door's open.

[ She won't want to now. She won't want to in the future. He knows that, sees the way she's propped up on the table, defeated, sees the way she's rubbing at her temple. She's underneath a great deal more stress than she can reasonably deal with. ]

If you want to rest before the food arrives, feel free. I'm the intruder here, and I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself.

[ Read: perfectly capable of cleaning the rest of this place up. ]

[ Don't know about that, Rex; he might think differently if he'd seen what she did to David Blake's office. She's at a low right now, but she can get lower.

She nods at his offer for help, not knowing quite what to do with it. She sighs. Well, she does know what she should do- it's more that she doesn't know how she feels. ] Thanks. I'll...I'll keep it in mind. [ She says, in the clear tone of someone who's just saying it to say it.

She snickers dryly at his last statement, though. As if she's going to let him do that. ] What would you entertain yourself with? Mythology textbooks? Endless notebooks of research? I watch TV on my laptop. Unless that's not what you mean.

[ For once she knows what he's up to. ]

Keep it in mind, Cassandra. Really.

[ She ought to give it more thought than she's giving it right now. Rex isn't what he'd call touchy-feely, nor is he particularly good at discussing feelings, but everyone needs an outlet. Even him. There has to be at least one person you can confide in when the going gets tough and he's not confident that Cassandra has that outside of those that are intimately involved in her affairs. It has affected Rex, true, but he wasn't involved. It's why he treasures his friendship with Cody so much. Sometimes you just need an outside point of view.

Of course, when she catches him out, he pauses. He doesn't even have the good grace of looking at all guilty. ]

I'll have you know that I like cleaning.

[ As if Cass ever confides in anyone. She was so connected to the Norns they knew her problems without her having to say much of anything, and thank fuck for that; but they're not here, now, and she's starting to think they never will be. Someone would have to pry a lot more than Rex is to get anything out of her that's more than I'll figure it out.

That said, at least this gives her an excuse to needle him again, though it's closer to teasing this time. It's somewhat of a relief. ]

Of course you like cleaning. You're exactly the kind of person who would. [ And, shockingly, she's not, although she'll pretend she keeps things clean. ] Do you actually like doing it or do you like knowing everything's finished after?

I'll take that as a compliment.

[ Which he does, really. There's nothing wrong with keeping things nice and tidy and he's always been detail-oriented, focused on making sure that things aren't just going passably well but that things are done right. Sometimes that means hours poring over stratagems with Cody and sometimes that means making sure everything's in its place. ]

Can't it be both? I'd hardly waste my time if not for the end product but I don't mind the process. It's relaxing.

[ Of course that's how Rex relaxes. ]

[ She rolls her eyes. This weirdo. No wonder he considers this something he needs to do; it matches up so cleanly with the habits he already has.

He's a good friend. She should probably tell him. But that's...difficult. It always has been. She's not even really sure what she's doing with him, or Martin, or anyone in that household.

But she is starting to feel useless. She pushes herself up out of her chair, approaching him and whatever he's been working on. She can't be that tired, right? ]

Come on, give me something. I need to figure out where all of this shit even goes anyway.

If you say so. You may well feel better once this is taken care of.

[ Clean spaces are good for you, in Rex's professional opinion. The longer the to-do list, the more unease you'll feel until you've at least managed to pare it down. His to-do list is almost never done back home - there's always more to do, no matter what - but he always felt better being proactive about it, even when ostensibly in recovery. ]

Why don't you take care of the mugs? [ He says, passing the box over and getting started on a new one. Clothes. Somehow, he thinks she'll appreciate him rummaging through them and getting them washed and pressed less than Andy does - which is to say, Andy accepts it without any complaint and Cassandra probably isn't fond of the idea of him rifling through her things.

(Did. At this point, he's just cleaning her clothes for his own peace of mind, as though she'll show up needing something clean to wear for tomorrow. Stupid thing to do. He ought to be more mature than that.) ]

Have you always lived alone, then? Or is this a first?

[ She thinks mugs are kind of a simple option, especially considering Rex has started on her clothes, but she's getting too tired to push it. If Rex looks, he'll see basically all of her clothes are in the same mold- black, flowy, some tights and hooded cloaks. They're actually not nearly as nice as what she would wear back home, considering her limited budget, but at first glance they may as well look the same, and serve the same function. Benefits of wearing all one shade of color.

She starts on the mugs anyway, stacking them in a cabinet over the counter. At his question, she shrugs. ]

I might as well have been living alone in the other housing, considering how little I saw the people who lived there. I had too much to do. [ Although a lot of what she did involved sitting in her room, all holed up. ] But yeah, I mean, I've done it before.

I wasn't doing it before I was Ported in...but it looks like Lachesis didn't give a fuck about that, so I'll have to get used to it. [ She sounds particularly bitter, on that front. It's been half a year, and she's still not used to being alone all the time. ]

[ She doesn't have to get used to it, Rex thinks. She has a team here. Comrades. People she works beside and likes, people she cares for. She could live with them. If she were to ask, he thinks they would accept. He can't imagine that they wouldn't.

She's just moved, though, and he quietly considers that that suggestion will ultimately be an unwelcome one, so he doesn't say it. He'd hate to live alone, though. He's not much of a fan with how fragmented they are as it is; even after all of this time, it feels strange going to sleep in an empty room. ]

I suppose it's not much to get used to if you didn't see your roommates as it was, [ he notes instead, looking at her curiously. For all that they've gone through, there's precious little he knows about her. ] You lived with your family, then?

[ Even if she did live with anyone in the Pantheon, her frustration with them would destroy her- not Dio, and perhaps not Inanna, but everyone else would make her want to implode.

There is a part of her that thinks she could probably tolerate living at Maurtia Falls #10; she would if she had to, and if she didn't think it could potentially put the residents of the house in the cross-hairs of Woden. But she's also still flummoxed by how quickly she's gotten to know Rex and Martin, and isn't sure what to make of the feeling. ]

Until college. Then roommates for awhile, and then I was with the other Norns when I got Ported in. [ She pauses, and sighs. She hadn't realized this before- that she doesn't talk about them much- and feels a familiar twang of guilt. ] Have I really not mentioned them to you before? I know you wouldn't know the mythology, you're not from Earth, but...

[ But she's done a great job not mentioning her girlfriends at all. Maybe people are right when they say she doesn't acknowledge them enough. ]

[ Rex offers Cassandra a wry sort of smile, if you can even call it that; it's more of a crook of the brow and a twist of the lip than anything else. ]

You haven't mentioned a great deal about yourself. [ He pauses to puzzle over a particularly flowy bit of clothing. How does Cassandra wear this stuff? Honestly, he has no idea. It looks like it just gets in the way. He'd probably rip it off of himself in frustration before lasting an entire evening with it. Surely there's a better way to fold it... ]

You've been too concentrated on questioning me for me to return the favour. So? Who are these Norns?

[ Finishing up the mugs, she sighs and leans against the counter. They're actually talking about this, then.

The farther she gets from the Norns, the more she thinks anyone who questioned her treatment of them may have been right. She didn't intend it. She misses them like fucking hell. It's wrong to have a part of yourself cut away like that. But there's no one here who could reassure her she did nothing wrong, is there. ]

There are always supposed to be three Norns. I'm the god of the past, Verdandi's the god of the present, Skuld's the god of the future. It's a common trope, we're just the Norse version. You don't want me rambling on the entire history of it, it...doesn't matter right now. The point is when I became a god, they became gods too. Or- something like it. Nobody's really sure how it works.

[ And she stifles a bit when she says that. That's so much of her problem, now. Would they have always been gods? Are they doomed, because of her? Or... ]

They used to be my interns. Before I was in the Pantheon, when I was just reporting on the Recurrence. When I became a god...they were with me, so it seemed obvious they were the other two. We're supposed to perform together. Use our powers together. That sort of shit.

[ And...well. She's not very public about it. But she trusts Rex. ] They're my girlfriends. Hence why I'm so fucking pissed about it all.

[ All of this is still a little beyond Rex, but he listens dutifully anyway, just to make sense of it all. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that, despite having powers of her own, Cassandra's never held herself as a god, never held herself as anything more than a rather extraordinary human. Remembering that she means more as a symbol to others than as a person is always surreal in its own way. ]

Somehow I'm not surprised to hear you were originally a reporter.

[ He's probably more surprised than he should be to hear the word girlfriends. Cassandra has always been a reticent sort. To have not one, but two people manage to crawl underneath her skin is quite a feat. They must be extraordinary women. ]

It sounds like they're your partners in every sense of the word. That's something to be treasured, certainly. [ Absently, he wishes they were here. Maybe Cassandra would be happier that way. ] Are they angry about it?

Fuck, did I not mention that, either? [ Sometimes it's easy to forget people don't just automatically know things about her- even before she was a god, she'd end up in places where people had seen her face online, already knowing who she was, how she felt. This place is the same in some ways, and very different in others.

But it's Rex's question that seems to get to her more. She looks away, shifting uncomfortably. Despite the fact she shared space in her brain with the Norns, she's not sure what she would answer. And that's another reason why this makes her so deeply uncomfortable, and another reason why she's so full of doubt. ]

Are they angry about being gods? About not knowing shit? [ To some extent, she's talking to herself. ] It's...I don't know. We're strange. Nobody really knows how we're supposed to work, if we constitute one god, and there's three of us. It seemed like Ananke was after me, but it's not as if they didn't get powers too.

[ She grimaces. ] Nobody knows if they're supposed to die, either.

There's a great deal you haven't mentioned.

[ There is a long, pronounced pause. Rex is certain that he heard her correctly. He's hoping that he didn't hear her correctly because, as it so happens, he's surrounded by loss, dead men walking, and a tenuous future filled with all of the above. Cassandra is still a young woman by anyone's standards. To already be speaking of death...

He deliberately folds one of those odd cape-like things Cassandra's so fond of. He doesn't look at her. ]

Supposed to die, Cassandra?

[ For a moment she doesn't say anything. Of course she's told Rex about this, right? She hasn't skipped maybe the most important part about being a god? The thing that defines their very existence, really...?

But maybe she has. His tone doesn't sound quite right, and it makes her realize he's not going to like this answer.

Well. She feels like a real fuckwad. ]

...That's our entire deal. We're gods for two years and then we all die. Usually suspiciously and horribly.

Come on, you- [ Of course he didn't know. Hell. She wants to sit down, but it wouldn't feel right, so she just stands there, as if frozen in place. ] You get it. People don't just get to be the center of the universe forever. Or whatever bullshit metaphor you want to put on it.

[ Rex breathes in, but doesn't outwardly respond, not right away. He came here to help. To be helpful. He didn't come here for Cassandra to hash out something that must weigh on her, some interminable fate she's marching towards with fury in her heart, for Rex cannot imagine she's marching towards it in any other way. It feels like a punch to the gut.

It's not fair. Nothing in life is, but these days, he's feeling it more keenly than ever before. He doesn't know why that is. Perhaps it's just that his eyes have been opened to what the future holds for him. Perhaps it's that he's had a taste of something better and it's spoiled him, weakened him, made him more susceptible to the emotions creeping along his ribcage and along the sides of his throat, less hardy than he ought to be. But it isn't. Cassandra's a good person. She doesn't deserve this. None of them do.

He could say that he knows what she means when she says that people don't get to be the centre of the universe forever, but --

No, he does know what she means, doesn't he? He was raised believing the Jedi to be the centre of his universe, and they will fall. He was raised believing the Republic to be the centre of his existence, and it falls as well. Even the one thing he had chosen to believe as a constant - he had seen Andy's skull get bashed in, for God's sake - had fallen. And he can't figure out for the life of him why, when all that he knows to be good and constant in this world, he's left standing. That, too, has always been a part of his life; no matter how many battles he's ground through, he always seems to be the last man standing. In times of self-pity, that seems to be the greatest injustice of them all.

Why not? He wants to ask. Why can't things just remain the centre of the universe forever? Why can't there be just one constant, one guarantee that somehow, everything will make sense at the end of the story? It's a childish thought, one that doesn't suit a soldier such as himself, but he thinks it anyway.

He swallows, sets the cloak aside. He makes the conscious decision not to look at her; even he cannot hide the fact that this is a blow, and his sadness at her hypothetical death isn't hers to bear. ]

...how long has it been?

[ Cassandra's never been good at picking up social cues, but in a situation like this, she's become hyper-aware of them- trying to find the little things in Rex's behavior, hoping he doesn't think of her as a complete loss for this. What a thing to hide from your friend, huh? Even totally unintentionally? Even in this place, where one could say it matters less- not that it makes the dread go away.

And she tries to avoid it- it's become such an undercurrent of her life now she barely registers it, most of the time- but it's there. Knowing she's going to die. And soon, even if some months here feel like a million years. Even if this place is different.

She has to go back one day, after all. She sucks in a breath. ]

It was...nine months there. Six here. [ More than a year. It's harder to count in this world. Coming up closer than she'd really processed. ] So. Fifteen months.

[ She purses her lips close for a second, and then speaks again, quickly, needing to get it out. ] Look. If it happens here- I'll just come back. We'll have to find a way to deal with it, with all the shit that happens with it, but- it won't...it won't be the same.

[ She meant to say it to be reassuring. It's not in her tone, and likely won't work. ]

[ Nine months left.

Will it still happen here? He wonders. He's certain Cassandra would have tried to prevent it, for the others if not for herself, but that doesn't mean that they shouldn't be putting the full force of their attention upon it. Rex grabs another item of clothing, methodically folding it, controlled.

He's always been very, very good at control. He's not sure what it says about this place that that sense of control has quickly been unraveling. This isn't the right place. This isn't the right time. ]

The way you spoke of it, your -- condition. I didn't know how short a time you've been the way you are. [ She had always made it seem like something she had coped with forever, an old annoyance, something she was well used to. Not a young woman suddenly thrust into something she didn't expect and didn't want, torn asunder for nothing. Then, quieter, almost muttered: ] You should have told me.

[ Cassandra isn't comfortable with how close he feels to her. Fine. But they're friends, aren't they? Allies, in some strange way? This isn't the sort of thing you keep to yourself, not when it's following you here, not when he could have been working these past six months on some sort of solution. He stiffens his jaw, the set of his shoulders rigid with unexpressed emotion. ]

Why didn't you -- did you just think we all knew? All this time? That we knew, and wouldn't be working with you for some sort of solution, asking you questions?

[ That almost offends him more than not being told in the first place. She knows him by now. How could she think that he'd know and simply cast it aside? ]

[ She crosses her arms in front of her chest, and tucks them in sort of protectively; she feels ashamed, now, a little sick. She hadn't realized how much this would upset him. How much he'd care. And she knew Rex cared about her, and she cares about him, but-

But she's bad at having friends. She's never had many, and she's rarely let them be close to her. It's still a weird feeling. And she still feels the need to defend herself, even though part of her knows this isn't an argument. ]

Look, I'm used to the entire fucking world knowing! I figured it must have come up with the other gods at some point, that it'd go around, or...

[ Or what? That she wouldn't have to think about it? That she wouldn't have to blame herself for not being able to find a way out, so distracted by all the other shit happening in this goddamn world? ]

It wasn't on purpose, okay? There's so much shit happening here, for all we know the fucking apocalypse is going to happen before I have to deal with this! We've got enough we have to take care of.

[ But that's just an excuse. She knows it is. And her voice is starting to waver, slightly, her grief becoming clear- she bites on the inside of her lip, not looking at him, trying to muffle it. ]

[ Rex sighs, frustrated. It's... all right. It is her fault, in a way, for not telling them, for making that assumption or, Rex suspects, simply spending time with people who don't know about her inevitable fate. It's equally as maddening that she comes from a place where the whole world knows that these young men and women are given a death sentence and the public has decided to simply stand by and let it happen. It's obscene. It's absurd. And, in Rex's experience, is absolutely what he's come to expect from people.

But in a way, it's not her fault. He hasn't told Cassandra many things himself. Things that won't apply to anyone here, things that won't catch up to him in the way Cassandra's will, but he hasn't even spoke of it to others from his own galaxy. It's too painful to speak of in a way his imminent death wouldn't be. But Cassandra's no soldier, no immortal; she's a civilian. Their relationship with death is different.

He tries to choose his words carefully. He always does. ]

We don't need to speak of it now. This isn't why I came. As you said - you've got enough on your plate. But there's never so much going on that your life isn't a priority.

[ It should be a priority. To her, if not to anyone else - but it's a priority to Rex too. He just can't understand why she would think it's not, that they'd somehow be so concerned about everything else that they'd stop caring. She may be uncomfortable with intimacy, platonic or otherwise. Fine. That's fine. But hell, she has to understand that they care whether she lives or dies. ]

[ She doesn't know how to respond to that, initially. Her life. For a second she doesn't even know what that means, and then she realizes it's strange that she can't visualize that, her life without this. She had goals at one point. A plan. And it has gone away so fast. ]

This...is my life, Rex. This shit we have to do. [ As she speaks, she thinks she knows how he'll protest, and she starts trying to fight the argument in advance. ] It's our life. Everyone here, they deserve to know what the fuck is going on. I'm not going to ruin our chances of figuring that out by not doing anything.

[ Something needs to have an answer. When she'd become a god, she'd been so sure all of it was worthless- she needed a point. The machine had given it to her. And now, here, she's got something else to study, something nobody else seems to be as interested in. ]

If there's no one else here trying to find a way to deal with Lachesis and Atropos and all the rest of it, I have to. I don't want to ignore the dying shit, it's-

[ She wants to ignore it. Forget about it for a little while. But she's not acknowledging that. ]

It's just that I don't want an entire city nuked again because none of us found the right tiny little detail or whatever.

Focusing on you doesn't mean not focusing on anything else. We can't be on all the time. None of us can, as much as we may try.

[ He tries. God knows he tries. But he's come to accept his limitations in the past months - or maybe it's that he's come to accept the way life ought to be rather than the way life is. ] We take time for what's important. Martin's soccer games, those dinners we have, when Andy and I -- [ His mouth forms a thin line. ] Well.

[ They have more time now, technically speaking. The both of them. What an awful way to put it. ]

I would never ask anyone to stray from their duty. But it's important too. That's all I'm saying.

[ She wants to say watch me. Because she feels useless if she's not working, not finding the answers she not only craves, but she knows people need. Rex wants her to calm down, but she's never truly calm, not really, even when she's sure she's the calmest person in the room. It's so hard to be. Being at peace- it's not right here.

But there's a tenderness in her chest, knowing what's important to him. She has to reassure Martin about things so often, but he never has to worry; Rex adores that kid. And as for Andy...she's not trying to bring him false hope, but. ]

Andy...should come back, Rex. People usually do. [ Usually. ]

I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so pissy about it. And- all this.

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