(no subject)

[childofrebellion]

OOM: A successful assassination, an unlucky capture.

Cassian opens the door and leans against the frame for a long moment, half of his face is swelling, there's almost the imprint of a glove on his cheek and he's slightly trembling. This isn't his quarters but he doesn't want to move too much and takes a breath and sets himself to walk to the counter. He sits and a mug of tea and a bowl of soup appear in front of him.

His hands shake as he wraps them around the tea and inhales it, the scent anchors him and he'll be here then rest. He's alive and completed the mission, here he doesn't have to report to anyone, not yet.

Tiny tag: Cassian Andor, warning for torture and mentions of killing in the OOM. Catch him anywhere between the door and counter.

Comments

[out_on_the_mat]

"Wow, somebody kicked your ass," Charlie notes as he comes up to the bar; claiming a seat with the intention of ordering a beer.

He looks the man over and the humor in his expression leaves and is replaced with something closer to concern.

"You alright?"

[childofrebellion]

People will talk to him here, he'd forgotten that and almost laughs at the observation then winces as that makes everything hurt, "Yes, they did. I"ll live."

[out_on_the_mat]

"Living is always a plus," he says, then orders a beer.

When the bottle appears he lifts it and turns sideways on his stool so he can lean on the counter and regard the man.

"You got a-- " he gestures on his own face where the man has an imprint on his cheek. "Wasn't a chick who did this, was it?"

[childofrebellion]

"No, stormtrooper," The mark is big, he should have bacta on it but later, not now. He takes a sip of his tea, which is soothing.

[out_on_the_mat]

"That like a cop?" he guesses.

Eying the tea, he hods at the cup. "There booze in that?"

[childofrebellion]

"No, they belong to the Empire not a planet or a city, they're everywhere. I don't know, there might be," If there is, he can't easily taste it.

[out_on_the_mat]

"Doesn't seem like a good idea to piss off somebody with that kind of connection," he notes. Just saying.

Taking a swig of his beer, he gives another nod towards the tea. "Trust me, you're gonna want it. Bruises like that only get worse before they get better. Booze helps."

[childofrebellion]

"I wasn't trying to, just in the wrong place at the wrong time,"

He'd snuck onto the base and been able to make his shot, the 'trooper had come of someplace that he hadn't expected. At least they hadn't found the stolen uniform he'd had, then it would have gotten worse faster. Not that it would have been much worse but passed onto someone higher up.

[out_on_the_mat]

"Sure," he nods easily. "Happens to me all the time."

He smirks into his bottle, but after another drink decides to ease up. The guy does look pretty rough.

"There's an infirmary here if you need to get looked at."

[notapilot]

Sam takes a seat nearby, giving a nod of hello with half his attention. Something of Cassian's condition registers and he does a double take.

"You okay?"

[childofrebellion]

He turns, the man with the hero friend and manages a nod, "I've had better days but I'll live."

[notapilot]

Sam's concern is clear on his face and there is nothing duplicitous about it.

"You've seen someone right? I could look you over in the Infirmary real quick if not."

[childofrebellion]

"Yes, a medic, nothing's broken just bruised and uh, recovering," His hands still have a shake and he grips his mug with a breath, "It was too bright to stay there and Bar's given me a nice tea."

[notapilot]

"OK," Sam says with a smile, realizing he's mother henning the poor fellow. Of course, this doesn't mean he'll be stopping anytime soon. "Have you eaten anything recently? I know when I was in active duty, a nice stew or soup was the best thing to help calm me down."

[childofrebellion]

He shifts his arm to show Sam, "She gave me tea and soup, I haven't had that yet."

With how this tremble is staying, he doesn't want to risk a spoon until its gone. He hates this, that machine took his control from him, but he'll get it back.

[notapilot]

"I should've known she'd take care of things. Mind if I join you or were you looking for solitude?"

Sam knows sometimes you just have to let the shakes out and sometimes you want to do it alone.

[childofrebellion]

"I don't mind the company," It will keep him from replaying what he can remember, he didn't truly scream.

[last_kallig]

Ibani knows the pain of what the Empire does to people it tortures all too well, from both sides of the equation.

That's part of the reason that somewhere between the door and the counter there is a worried Ibani offering Cassian an arm with a quiet "May I help you?"

There are such things as pride, as keeping your cover and your secrets, but if she can help, she will.

[childofrebellion]

"How?"

His voice is small because he knows that he has to wait, the Rebellion doesn't have anything to do more. He takes her arm and doesn't fully lean but he's grateful for the support.

[last_kallig]

"I've healed myself from interrogation many times before, I can do the same for you," she replies, "as little or as much as you need for the sake of secrets or your missions."

If he's willing to keep moving, she help him toward the counter.

[childofrebellion]

"You can do that? The medic saw me, but we can't do much,"

Some healing would make sense, all the way would be strange and doesn't feel possible. Moving is good, he's afraid if he stops at the wrong moment, the shakes will be worse or he'll fall.

[last_kallig]

"I can," Ibani replies. "I doubt I'd be alive today if I couldn't."

"We should probably both sit down first, though. Nerve damage can be a fiddly thing to fix."

"May I heal you completely, or would your sudden recovery cause....issues."

[childofrebellion]

They pass and empty booth and he gestures towards it, "There would be questions, I'm only human."

[last_kallig]

Ibani helps Cassian slide into the booth if necessary.

"A partial healing then, enough to fix the nerves and most of the shakes?"

[childofrebellion]

Sitting he can manage and he rests his hands on the table, watching his hands tremble and trying not to let his mind go far back,

"How difficult is that for you?"