#forgottenretrouvaille

the ground is practically thrumming beneath Cass' feet, and she can't help but think of all that tonight was promised to be. is this that melody Matías is always going on about? she would've hoped he'd play it at their wedding, not just the old Baez and Dylan songs she's so fond of and the travellers' songs he's learned from years of living at Chris' bar. they'd picked out the date during the summer when everything had seemed bright and warm and hopeful, but now, it just feels… pathetic. spring was supposed to come, that's what they said, except it's already March 20th — six months are almost up —and Lady Lani still isn't here. where are the trees? the river? the birds? the only sign of  Matías' love for her is the twining of guitar string around her ring finger, and she twists it, almost hoping for it to eat into her skin.

whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do, whatcha gonna do now? the trees sway, and the wind is hissing her name, and Cass is barely restraining the expletives on her tongue. the Fates have already ripped her jacket from her, have stolen the last snatches of food and firewood she'd had — what more is there to take? except her life. her thread hasn't been cut yet.she wonders if the string is taut, now. wonders if Sheva's scissors are gleaning as she takes a few steps forward, eyeing the glowing tangled mess excitedly. she has not died, so they can have her life. gods, they already kind of do, don't they?

it's the humming of the ground, almost melodic, that has Cass gritting her teeth, but it's the piercing screech of the train whistle that gets her to lift her head. Matías is waiting for her in the small cabin they've built together, and again, it is her wedding night. was supposed to be, anyway. what kind of wife would she be to leave her husband all on his lonesome? he would've left you, girl, just like his mama, the wind hisses, and the hairs on the back of her neck stick up. Cass' barren arms are lined with goosebumps that she hadn't even realized were there until now, and a light dusting of snow begins to coat her dark hair, dotting it like stars in the night sky. the sun is down; she looks up, can't find her constellation anywhere. her heart gives a twist like a knife to the back, like salt in the wound, and she knows it's over right then and there. there's something painfully familiar about it all; she can't quite place that feeling, though.

the doors to the train car hiss open — and it is a hiss — and the warm light has her perking up to the best of her ability. Cass' legs crumple under her, and she gives a tiny cry of anguish, then bites her tongue so hard she draws blood. she refuses to show weakness in front of any god or muse — Matías is lucky he gets to see her so vulnerable. in her head, there is a distinct cackling. Cass would tell them off, but her stomach is cramping something fierce, growling and howling like a rabid dog. she's tried so hard to wait just a little longer, just a little bit more. but it's March, and she doesn't know if she can take this any more. she curls up into the fetal position, snow from the previous nights stinging at her exposed skin. don't cry. you really think your Underground gal's come up top to bring back spring? just look at the weather. nah, you know who this is. king of the mine…

[ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to?

Braiding her hair before a mission! Cass has done this since her army days, and at this point, it’s too embedded in her mind to stop. The feather weaved into her hair symbolizes lightness and movement — two values she wants to achieve on her missions. The steadiness and consistency of the action brings Cass a great deal of comfort, and missions where she doesn’t have time to do this always make her uneasy.

[ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from?

Answered here!

[ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them?

Physically? A jacket of some sort. Cass is usually pretty cold, and jackets allow her to retreat into herself to an extent. If she doesn’t take it off, she can leave a place or situation easily without anything being expected of her. A lot of the S.T.A.R.S. wore leather jackets in particular, so that helped Cass blend in when she first joined the team as well.

Mentally? Those who died on her various missions. This specifically applies to S.T.A.R.S., whose losses profoundly impacted Cass, but she cares greatly about everyone who’s been lost. She’s healed from some of the pain of those other losses, but that doesn’t mean she’s become apathetic — far from it, in fact. Cass holds onto them while she strives for a world without bioterrorism. Something something “to the world we dream about… and… the one we live in now”.

[ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for?

Matías. Physically, it’s something Cass will subconsciously do. If things are feeling overwhelming, she’ll reach for his hand. If they get separated, the first thing she does is look for him. This especially applies to the time where she’s ‘dead’, for Cass will pay special attention to various B.S.A.A. press releases for any mention / footage of him. He’s always on her mind, and she loves him with everything she is.

[ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others?

Not really, no. Cass doesn’t like sharing her own personal stories with anyone, for she feels she’s giving them ammunition to hurt her with later on. She remains closed off to the world except for a few select people who she cares greatly for. Cass enjoys sharing mythological tales with people, but she doesn’t usually do this without prompting, and she’s not much of a talker.

[ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them?