Bodhi Rook (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
onlyeverdoubted) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-03-13 08:25 pm
onlyeverdoubted) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-03-13 08:25 pm
Under a sky, no one sees Waiting Watching it happening
WHO: Bodhi
WHERE: Around town, the inn
WHEN: Forward-dated to March 18
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: None, will update
STATUS: Open
The storms didn't bother him a bit--he had far more on his mind when he first arrived, and wild weather has always been a bit of a specialty of his. The odd little flickers of light excited his curiosity, but he's known planets with much odder bits of phenomena. The soft, wet cold is just as unusual by his standards. Fog is kind of fun. Not, it turns out, the best thing to wander into alone, not when he can't trust his memory to race away to unsafe places, when shifting shapes and unpredictable dimness can so easily evoke... Well, he learns not to stay too far after the first time out.
Aside from that, he doesn't give the little lights or insects or weather much thought. He has Jyn's crisis to deal with, after all, and while he has yet to really find his niche, he's always intent on staying busy, contributing enough with odd jobs to justify the time he spends meandering physically and mentally. He doesn't try to avoid the little lights.
He notices the fever itself. He was a sickly kid, and he's not particularly sturdy now, but what he lacks in immune system, he makes up for in resilience. He moves a little more slowly, takes a few more breaks, but he keeps going. The other symptoms come on more slowly, and these, Bodhi doesn't notice. He's always sure he's doing everything wrong and that if anyone knew the truth they'd hate him. He glances to the side too quickly to see shifting shadows that couldn't be there more often than he'd like to admit. It's a little bit of a bad day, but he's not feeling well. It'll work itself out.
There are slips he doesn't usually make, though, or not without checking carefully to see if anyone's around. Talking to himself--a low, constant murmur, hard to make out any individual pieces. Drumming his fingers in complicated patterns against each other and whatever satisfying surface is nearby (actually, he's done that all his life, but if people notice they sometimes ask, and he gets flustered by having no answer). Long moments that, left uninterrupted, stretch on and on of just being... absent. It's so easy to slip back under, let bor gullet have him. Keeping his head together is the hard part.
There's nowhere he really does belong, and he winds up in the trees and the fog over and over again, but once in a while he gets lost near the inn, his usual base of operations.
WHERE: Around town, the inn
WHEN: Forward-dated to March 18
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: None, will update
STATUS: Open
The storms didn't bother him a bit--he had far more on his mind when he first arrived, and wild weather has always been a bit of a specialty of his. The odd little flickers of light excited his curiosity, but he's known planets with much odder bits of phenomena. The soft, wet cold is just as unusual by his standards. Fog is kind of fun. Not, it turns out, the best thing to wander into alone, not when he can't trust his memory to race away to unsafe places, when shifting shapes and unpredictable dimness can so easily evoke... Well, he learns not to stay too far after the first time out.
Aside from that, he doesn't give the little lights or insects or weather much thought. He has Jyn's crisis to deal with, after all, and while he has yet to really find his niche, he's always intent on staying busy, contributing enough with odd jobs to justify the time he spends meandering physically and mentally. He doesn't try to avoid the little lights.
He notices the fever itself. He was a sickly kid, and he's not particularly sturdy now, but what he lacks in immune system, he makes up for in resilience. He moves a little more slowly, takes a few more breaks, but he keeps going. The other symptoms come on more slowly, and these, Bodhi doesn't notice. He's always sure he's doing everything wrong and that if anyone knew the truth they'd hate him. He glances to the side too quickly to see shifting shadows that couldn't be there more often than he'd like to admit. It's a little bit of a bad day, but he's not feeling well. It'll work itself out.
There are slips he doesn't usually make, though, or not without checking carefully to see if anyone's around. Talking to himself--a low, constant murmur, hard to make out any individual pieces. Drumming his fingers in complicated patterns against each other and whatever satisfying surface is nearby (actually, he's done that all his life, but if people notice they sometimes ask, and he gets flustered by having no answer). Long moments that, left uninterrupted, stretch on and on of just being... absent. It's so easy to slip back under, let bor gullet have him. Keeping his head together is the hard part.
There's nowhere he really does belong, and he winds up in the trees and the fog over and over again, but once in a while he gets lost near the inn, his usual base of operations.
no subject
He's being horrible to Bodhi. Prioritizing Jyn when Bodhi is in just as much distress. Using him as a means to an end rather than an end in of himself. And it took him too long and too large a provoked reaction from Bodhi in order to realize it.
"I'm sorry," Cassian says quietly. "Forgive me. …I just had my shoulder fixed by Rory Williams at the hospital… I think you'd like him." (It's hard to think of anybody who wouldn't like Rory. But Bodhi in particular is not being even slightly comforted by Cassian… deserves care Cassian clearly can't provide, on any level.) "Should we go back to see him? He might be able to help you too."
And we might be able to get insight as to what's…
Stop, damn you. Stop. Bodhi's important in of himself.
Cassian sat back further, onto his heels, prepped to stand, and extended his hand to Bodhi. Hopefully not in invasion, but in offer.
no subject
Well, and he has no idea why Cassian would introduce an entirely new idea when there's already one in play. He can manage everything else, look for Jyn for whatever good that might do, but why are they talking about doctors now? It's not easy to tell fear from fever, but he's not processing things quickly, and he blinks owlishly. It takes a long moment to remember that he's sick, though he's bee using it to justify everything that's gone wrong since he noticed. "I... I get sick all the time. I don't--I don't know if she'd be, I mean, is there any point to, um, looking by the fountain again?"
no subject
Cassian abruptly dropped his head to his chest, shut his eyes. Brought up his good hand to vice his temples.
Too many variables. Too many objectives. …Too many people…
One last try to reach a breaking point. Either positive—calling on a moment of common bond… or negative. What had come right after.
I'm compromised. I'm not in charge. I don't know the objective. Has to be your decision, Rook.
Cassian looked back up at Bodhi. The angle of his face, its expression, his intonation were all exact replicas of the last time. All that was missing was the pouring rain. "A hell of a few days."
no subject
With effort, he managed to move his hands, not toward Cassian, but deliberately to clasp behind his back, under the impression that that'd look less like deliberate avoidance. Kept him from trying curl in on himself too much, too. Sort of like trapping his ponytail between his shoulders and the chair so it'd catch him nodding off during boring lectures. Tricks to pass for essentially human. "Are... are we looking for Jyn then?"