milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's Cassidy's first Halloween at Milliways.

Cassidy wouldn't have made such a big deal about it. It would've been just like any other day.

Except that the moment that he orders a drink from the bar, fwoomp, he's suddenly dressed as an 18th century wanker, complete with a blond wig that won't come off.

"What- what the fuck- no- shitshitshitshit NOOO-"

A napkin appears on the bartop.

Yes.

"No! Whyyyy? Why this? What did I ever do to you??"

Another napkin.

You never pay off your tab?

Cassidy flails his ruffles and blond locks. "Besides that?!"

The Bar only responds with a smiley face.

"SHITE!"

The vampire Lestat is not happy.

(At least he wasn't given fake fangs. A small mercy.)

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"What's an armani?"

Cassian doesn't laugh but he does smile as Cassidy looks so awkward. He feels odd because he doesn't have a weapon and keeps checking his pockets. Inside he finds a pen that he frowns at before setting down along with a wallet that seems to have odd small tools.

"It's the name of a designer who makes really nice suits, I dunno if your suit's an actual Armani, I just said so 'cause it looks really well-tailored, but that's the gist of it. An' look, you've got accessories, too! What the hell!"

He turns to the Bar again.

"Why didn't I get accessories?"

After a moment, a set of cheap plastic vampire fangs appears.

Cassidy quickly swats them away as if spooked.

Nobody saw that. Nope.

"Never mind," he coughs.

"So what's all that then?"

"I'm not sure. Wait, that's a set of lockpicks. I think there's something in the pen but I don't know what. Do you know why she gave you that outfit?"

He's happy that his costume is easier but it would be nice to know why he's in it.

"Because she's rubbing it in, that's what she's doing," he says, scowling at her quite ineffectively.

This in-joke might need explaining.

But Cassidy picks up the wallet instead and looks it over, then the fancy pen, then the elegant suit.

"I think you're s'posed to be some kinda secret agent."

Cassidy gets a skeptical look and then Cassian frowns, "A secret agent? What kind of agent dresses like this?"

"The ones in the movies from my world," he replies. "You should look up James Bond. He's this super-smooth government spy that gets into all kinds of adventures, sleeps with all kinds of hot women, gets to shoot villains, plays with all kinds of cool gadgets. This pen here, could be some kinda device, like a recorder or a communicator or even a gun! Though I highly doubt it's a gun."

"James Bond, someone told me about him. That's nothing like what I do,"

He starts taking apart the pen while he talks, spying isn't elegant, its messy.

"Eh, well, then it was just an excuse to put you in something the complete opposite of what you normally wear," he says with a shrug.

"Like this bullshit."

Cassidy hates what he's wearing, if he hasn't made that clear yet.

"Yes, let's get something to drink. Has anyone ever mentioned to you having odd dreams around this holiday?"

A drink never hurts and he wants to know if he should expect his father again.

"A drink sounds hellaciously good right about now," he mutters.

"Odd dreams? No, I don't think so. Odd like how?"

"Like ghosts, but realer. Bottle of whiskey or stronger?"

Edited 2017-11-03 00:24 (UTC)

"Wouldn't mind a go at that Corellian whiskey," he suggests.

He then squints thoughtfully at Cassian's description.

"Like ghosts, but realer. Mmmyeah, no, I don't get that. What, d'you mean like, you saw ghosts in your dream but the ghosts were real people?"

"I don't know if I was asleep, but I saw someone that I know is dead and not here,"

A nice bottle appears in front of them and Cassian pours out two generous glasses.

"Riiiight. Annnnd...you were sober?"

Because that totally could've been a factor.

He rolls his eyes at Cassidy with a look, "Yes, I was sober. I'd fallen asleep over a book."

"What?? I dunno what you'd been doing, just asking to cover all the bases. But I still don't really get what the problem is, mate, your subconscious just made you dream about someone who's dead, an' maybe that person meant a lot to you, so they seemed, well, realer than a normal dream."

Cassian nods, looking into his drink, "Yes, that's probably it. I'm just overthinking it."

Edited 2017-11-04 16:07 (UTC)

It's hard to look properly concerned in a stupid wig, but Cassidy tries anyway. He pats Cassian on the shoulder once he sees that it's got him thinking too much on it.

"Maybe. Hey, who was it, then? In your dream?"

"My father, he died when I was a boy, but he felt and smelled the same,"

He takes a long drink, his father's voice seemed so real especially how sad he was about Cassian becoming a soldier.

"Oh. Sorry 'bout that, mate," he murmurs, and he lifts his glass in a small salute and takes a drink, too. "You've never dreamed about him like this before?"

“No, I’ve dreamed about him dying, he was off planet when it happened, at a protest, but never him sitting there and talking with me,”

The drink helps as the burn of the whiskey is steadying.

"Wow. Huh." He frowns deeply, wondering if this does mean something different after all. "An' he was talkin' to you like nothing ever happened or was he aware that he'd died?"