( the excitement of the sanctum means that many of those who lived outside of its gate have now taken the opportunity to slip inside, see what all those richer than them had been able to have while the rest of the lot processed day-in and day-out into what feels, unequivocally, like slums in comparison. the scars of the blackout remain in the pavillion, the blocks, some of it having scattered inside the sanctum.
and yet, there's a block party, and people are cheerful and celebrating, trying to, perhaps, forget about the fear and the loss and the chaos that had swept them all up for many dark days.
wanda sent cassian a message earlier that day, asking him if they could meet. she remembers him, wrestling in pain with a wound on his abdomen, his arm, and how she worked to heal him from some uncertain fate; she remembers him on her bed, sleeping uneasily, breathing out a name, brasso, and all she could make herself do for him was hold him closer and try to sweep the memory from his mind, so that at the very least his sleep would be easy. after he had gone the next day, wanda didn't see him again.
she describes as best as she can where she is: some rooftop overlooking the street fair, just about out of reach of the many lights and the noise. wanda, as she is won't to do, had spent some time parsing through the stands, picking out a few clothes, some jewelry, some knick knacksโ and then up a ladder, up the fire escape, to find herself settle atop the activities below, have some air to breathe.
wanda leans against the edge, arms crossed over her street fair finds, looking out into the crowd. cassian is not down there, she knows, because she hears, instead, the sound of boots on metal, echoing somewhere behind her. he's never been one to keep her waiting; wanda had gotten here early. )
( when wanda had told astarion that she had moved into a (in his words) 'much nicer location', she was the one who insisted that their 'once in a ten-day agreement' remain the same; there was no reason for it to change. the reasons for her move had been plenty, and in part, perhaps, it had been too that she wanted to shed away the pain and grief she felt which, after his (surprising) words (of comfort), wanda had felt capable of keeping to the unsaid promise. it isn't out of spite, exactly, why she continues, but she's slowly finding her reasons.
when wanda had shared her new address, she had expected astarion to walk in like a normal person wouldโhe's always done as much!
instead, a knock on her balcony door rouses her from where she had been sitting, out in the living room, curiously listening for the origin of the noise. opening her bedroom door, she peers inside, sees the shape of a person right outside the glass, behind the curtain. wanda draws said curtain, and looks at him with annoyance.
( they have been driving for a while. when wanda agreed to support holmes in one of his many endeavors to explore, she had expected something of an opportunity to hitch a ride in her quest for her 'rumored' diffusion zone; telling the older man about it seemed to have made him quite interested in helping her suss out this mystery for once and for all, being asked to repeat again and again, word for word, what she had heard of this fabled place. what wanda hadn't quite expected was the serious formality by which all this would unfold.
she jumps a little on the backseat, as the car's wheels seem to hit something of a bump on the road. wanda looks up from her papers (she's diligently been drawing and writing down the notes he's asked her to, checking other map sketches to compare and contrast), and meets holmes's eyes through the rear view window.
wanda puts aside papers and, with little concern for the upholstery, she steps over the center console, hunched over, stepping on the passenger seat and finds herself sitting up front now. she has got a used, small notebook in her hands, pages curled around it, as she goes through the notes on the open page. )
There will be a bend on the road, and a very green tree to signal the entrance...
( she circles 'very green tree' with her pencil. she glances up at the man. )
I've seen some trees out here, but they're not exactly healthy enough to be very green.
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โด๏ธ cassian
and yet, there's a block party, and people are cheerful and celebrating, trying to, perhaps, forget about the fear and the loss and the chaos that had swept them all up for many dark days.
wanda sent cassian a message earlier that day, asking him if they could meet. she remembers him, wrestling in pain with a wound on his abdomen, his arm, and how she worked to heal him from some uncertain fate; she remembers him on her bed, sleeping uneasily, breathing out a name, brasso, and all she could make herself do for him was hold him closer and try to sweep the memory from his mind, so that at the very least his sleep would be easy. after he had gone the next day, wanda didn't see him again.
she describes as best as she can where she is: some rooftop overlooking the street fair, just about out of reach of the many lights and the noise. wanda, as she is won't to do, had spent some time parsing through the stands, picking out a few clothes, some jewelry, some knick knacksโ and then up a ladder, up the fire escape, to find herself settle atop the activities below, have some air to breathe.
wanda leans against the edge, arms crossed over her street fair finds, looking out into the crowd. cassian is not down there, she knows, because she hears, instead, the sound of boots on metal, echoing somewhere behind her. he's never been one to keep her waiting; wanda had gotten here early. )
โด๏ธ astarion
when wanda had shared her new address, she had expected astarion to walk in like a normal person wouldโhe's always done as much!
instead, a knock on her balcony door rouses her from where she had been sitting, out in the living room, curiously listening for the origin of the noise. opening her bedroom door, she peers inside, sees the shape of a person right outside the glass, behind the curtain. wanda draws said curtain, and looks at him with annoyance.
she doesn't open the glass door yet. )
The apartment has a door.
( sir?? )
โด๏ธ holmes
she jumps a little on the backseat, as the car's wheels seem to hit something of a bump on the road. wanda looks up from her papers (she's diligently been drawing and writing down the notes he's asked her to, checking other map sketches to compare and contrast), and meets holmes's eyes through the rear view window.
wanda puts aside papers and, with little concern for the upholstery, she steps over the center console, hunched over, stepping on the passenger seat and finds herself sitting up front now. she has got a used, small notebook in her hands, pages curled around it, as she goes through the notes on the open page. )
There will be a bend on the road, and a very green tree to signal the entrance...
( she circles 'very green tree' with her pencil. she glances up at the man. )
I've seen some trees out here, but they're not exactly healthy enough to be very green.