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bakerstreet2020-04-16 12:31 pm
antigravitysocks) wrote in bakerstreet2020-04-16 12:31 pm
Entry tags:
choo choo
Train to the After Life
tickets please
maybe you know how, maybe you don't. perhaps the memory is fuzzy, or perhaps it's crystal clear down to the look in your comrades' eyes. maybe it was your time; you've done all you wanted to. or maybe you weren't at all ready to go, maybe you went out kicking and screaming -- but none of it matters. you know you're dead, and the train is taking you to an afterlife. perhaps an afterlife of your choice; you might've earned that heaven. or perhaps you've earned something else entirely. it'll be a bit of a journey, though, so you might as well take your time and talk to the other people in your coach. death knows no place: most of them are strangers, even from faraway worlds. but death knows no time either, so who knows, some of them may be people you know, even if last you knew, they were alive -- or long gone. oh look, here comes the snack cart. |
» POST with your character
» said character is now DEAD for whatever reason -- canon, au, what have you. they are on a train with other dead people from many other times, places, and worlds.
» characters don't know for a fact where they're headed -- just a general awareness that they're going to some kind of AFTERLIFE. whatever they think it is is up to the player.
» have FUN & TAG AROUND
TRIGGER WARNING!!
this meme obviously deals with death and may deal with other unpleasant themes as a result. please be cautious.
no subject
It's the last thing he remembers.
And when Cassian opens his eyes again with a jolt, one hand clawing at his uninjured chest and his other hand searching blindly for Jyn's, he realises that they're... somewhere else.
Somewhere very else. It's some kind of magtrain, too quiet and empty than it should be, the windows dark but swaying with the impression of movement as it trundles on. And he knows, without really having to stop to think about it, where they're headed, but he still automatically half-rises out of his seat, searching for her in the car, amongst the seats. It's the first thing he does. She was there when they burned up together; he has to find her now.
no subject
The last thing that she remembers is sand and pain and tears, and Cassian gathering her tight, allowing her to hide against his shoulder as they await their inevitable end, the heat rolling ever closer, the way he takes one last breath and it's not fair -
It's not fair. It's not fair that they'll never know if their mission is a success, if the rest of their cobbled together little team (
family) somehow miraculous makes it and will remember them, that they won't have a chance to find out what welcome home could mean ...When she wakes, it's with a sobbing gasp, and then she lurches to her feet, her head spinning, her hart practically pounding out of her chest, eyes wild as she looks for Cassian.
Where is Cassian? If she has to be here now - and deep down, she has an inkling of where here is, where they're being ferried, but she doesn't ... she can't ...
Please, don't leave me here alone.
no subject
Finally, shoving through one of the doorways and into the next car, Cassian finally sees her clutching one of the seats to hold herself up, and that tight knot in his chest lurches with a sickening relief.
It's not like they survived. It's not like everything's okay. But she's here, and that's what matters right now. With his limbs still tingling from that lingering remembrance of what it felt like to be burned alive, he only has room to think of one thing at a time, and right now it's—
"Jyn."
I swear I just answered this yesterday. WHAT IS TIME?!?
All the way.
Jyn doesn't remember much - but she does recall holding Cassian until the end, an unspoken reassurance that he isn't alone anymore, that neither of them have to be, and then heat. Burning - her hair, her skin, her lungs.
Unbearable … until the world went dark. And she can hardly know how long it's been since that day on Scarif, but maybe time doesn't matter in this place, not anymore.
All Jyn knows is that she doesn't want to be here alone, that for whatever good it will do them, she wants Cassian by her side, here, now, in all things. Her legs are too shaky to allow her much movement, the rest of her body too … brand-new to do much but keep her upright as she desperately searched her empty car with watery eyes, her heart practically pounding out of her chest as the door suddenly opens and she turns her head just far enough to see that it's Cassian, that he's there, that he's still with her, and -
There's just no holding back the hot torrent of tears as they stream down her face.
It's only through sheer force of will that Jyn's legs move, getting her closer to him one agonizing step at a time until it's just too much effort and she crumples into a seat helplessly.
"Cassian. Cassian! You're here … "
lol ikr, but no worries!! you also caught me on a cassian day, perfect timing
That touch was the last thing he remembered, too. That deep pain of his stomach half-blown open, her fingers digging into his shoulderblades, his chin buried in her neck. Hanging onto each other even tighter and tighter as that inevitable wave came, and as it chewed them alive, and it—
It had been quick, at least.
"I thought," Cassian started, but then his words spluttered out. He thought she was dead.
(But where else could they be, right now?)
So instead he just settles for pulling her into a bone-crushing embrace, a mirror of the one that they died in. And in the end, he says, "I thought you were gone."
ahh this year has not been kind about anything, including pretendy funtime writing hours :0/
She clutched his shirt so tightly in her fist that she was sure that her knuckles had gone white, lifting the other hand with its shaking fingers to touch tentatively his jaw, his cheek, marveling at how warm Cassian was, how real, after everything …
Jyn had questions - of course she did - but in the moment, nothing was more important than the relief she felt just being together again, and eventually … taking solace in each other for all that they'd lost.
At his words, she huffed out a small breath, her voice hoarse when she found enough of it in order to offer a reply.
"You're still stuck with me."
no subject
Which is true. The rest of Rogue Squadron might be somewhere around here too, technically. They're all dead; these two were the last to go, like an afterthought, the final act. The punchline to some cosmic joke.
Stars, he hopes their transmission did something.
He shifts his position, sits down properly on the bench, but still keeps an arm around her. Can't let go of her, as if he fears Jyn will dissipate to nothing the moment they withdraw. "This is where I think it is, though, isn't it," he adds softly. He'd already glanced out the windows of the magtrain; there's nothing outside. Just emptiness.
no subject
"The feeling is mutual", she murmurs, letting out a soft breath as she allows herself to lean against Cassian more thoroughly once he settles properly onto the bench. Being close, too, was reassuring. Jyn wonders if the others will make their way into their cabin, not wanting to consider whether or not they have their own journeys to undertake, their own separate trains.
She doesn't know exactly where it is they're heading, but she does know that there's no chance she and Cassian have survived the destruction of Scarif. She can't begin to say what awaits them once they reach their destination, but she knows she'll fight like hell to stay with Cassian if that's what it takes.
"I think so. Nothing else makes any sense."
no subject
It had always been too mystical for him. He hadn't believed in anything. Or, no, that wasn't right— he had believed in people, in their individual capacity to accomplish great things. To make a difference. Even to topple empires. But at the end of the day, Cassian always assumed there would be nothing waiting for them afterwards: just their cold corpses, bloodied hands, and the aftermath of their actions.
Jyn leans against him, and he settles into the contact. Both of them were such wary, closed-off people, hardly prone to opening up, but dying in each others' arms had seemed to break down some of those barriers. They'd dragged each other over that finish line, together.
He tips his head back against the traincar seat. "Do you think it worked?"
Little doubt what it was. The mission. Their mission.