[ it's the middle of the night, and daisy's entire Vibe has been so strongly Do Not Fuck With Me that no one has yet to bother her in the last hour. she's just been stalking the streets of new beijing, summoning pieces of neon tubing and light fixtures, breaking off metal posts from fencing, generally being a complete piece of shit to the city as a whole because Who Gives A Shit?
not daisy. not tonight.
but the voice that's calling her name isn't a stranger. it's not some jackass who wants to tell her to cheer up, buttercup. it's not someone well-meaning asking if she needs something to carry all her... things...
it's jyn. and so, while daisy doesn't smile when she turns around, she does at least bother to do it. ]
[ jyn isn't going to stop anyone from petty theft and destruction of property. that was part of her laughably long record that draven spat at her like she wasn't proud of being such an annoying thorn in the empire's side. she isn't purposefully trying to tick off every box here on earth but she's certainly getting close.
possession of unsanctioned weapons, check; forgery of imperial documents, technically it was el but check; unlawful contact with undesirables, check; petty theft, check; disorderly conduct, well daisy is right here making a mess, might as well help. ]
What's on the menu?
[ she'll ease into emotion. they're both skittish loth cats. ]
[ not least of all because the tingle of electricity in her hands feels like self-inflicted punishment, but mostly because they'll be practical weapons against the una. because, yes, daisy is still hell bent on doing the thing. even illya's shitty surprise ultimatum wasn't going to stop her. if anything, it just made her more stubborn. ]
Sure. [ she'd left her own at home so she wouldn't mind another pair here, feeling a tiny warmth in her chest that daisy called them truncheons instead of: ] I'll take a pair of ninja sticks.
[ she doesn't ask for some of the materials in daisy's arms, she simply takes a bunch, sharing the load silently so daisy can grab more. ]
Has the murder spread from UNA specific? I can get behind it probably.
[ maybe she should be contemplating murdering someone who isn't the una. maybe she should be contemplating testing these devices-in-progress on someone who's decided to pull the world out from under her feet. but she can't bring herself to do it.
so, to jyn, she only shakes her head, a noncommittal hum slipping through her lips as she weighs a metal rod in her palm. ]
If you thought I was going to die tomorrow, would you tell me to stay home?
[ she knows this question is perhaps unfair to ask of jyn, who has in fact already died once. if she'd known what would happen on the beach of scarif, would jyn have told cassian not to come? would she tell him now, if she could? ]
In general or in relation to all this? [ she gestures expansively, all this being new beijing, cassius, the favor, but she doesn't wait for daisy to clarify because jyn knows the answer. ]
If I knew you were going to be hit by a hover-bus, I would maybe tell you to stay inside. But this?
[ her shoulders lift in a shrug, voice quiet but shot through with threads of that same intensity the alliance had ignored, the same intensity that had rallied rebels long after jyn herself was ash on a beach. ]
They wouldn't listen to us, about Scarif. We were there on our own because to the Alliance the risks outweighed the benefits. We had everything in our power to get the plans, to stop the Death Star, but the cost was too high. So it was just us. It wasn't a choice to any of us, we had to do it, even knowing the odds weren't in our favors.
I would still do it, knowing everything. I could never stop you.
[ some things are worth that price (the galaxy, this planet, zerzura) and this is worth it to daisy, jyn doesn't get to make that decision for her. for anyone. ]
[ that echoing certainty, faded and stretched too thin; for a long, long moment, all daisy is is silence, uncomfortable and heavy and painful as it settles into her skin. her mind rolls and whirs with thoughts: self-doubt, self-loathing, self-sacrifice. an attempt to give of herself when she has nothing left. if she can put herself on the pyre, so to speak, maybe it will be worth it.
in the quiet, soft sounds echo louder; when daisy doesn't speak, it's easier for jyn to hear the way she sniffs, the way her breath catches in her throat. she wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, but something still drips and falls against her neckline. she's crying, but trying so hard to stop.
when she does manage to say something else, it's hollow, her voice tripping and breaking over every other syllable. ]
He tried. To stop me, he tried to ... he left.
[ he's still here, in the city, somewhere. probably in that room, glaring at the wall. but he's not with her, not now, not anymore; there's an emptiness in daisy she hasn't carried in a long time. loss. ]
[ at first jyn thinks daisy is crying about her, bemused before she attaches probably far more appropriate reasons to cry to the tears: another friend from daisy's home has left, daisy made herself the displaced's scapegoat if this all goes to hell (and even if it doesn't), stephen strange is daisy's close friend and he sold them out to the una.
but then the words stumble out and anger flares in jyn's chest. on top of all of that, illya left. contemplating murder is now a common theme for both of them.
stretching her arm out, she drags daisy close. it's not quite a hug, a half embrace, enough to curl into each other, jyn pressing her forehead to daisy's, a gentle contact. their jackets disguise the glow and jyn is briefly grateful for the cold here keeping them safe for at least one whole night. ]
[ she is afraid. daisy doesn't want to admit it — can't admit it, can't let herself waver in weakness so close to her goal — but she is. she's aware of her own mortality, even more so as she copes with the continued absence of her inhuman abilities, the ones that might have protected her from harm and kept her moving, one step ahead.
but in her fear, she never abandoned anyone. she never made anyone choose. that same outrage flares in her again, bitter and hot and tight in her throat, and daisy sniffles a little, her eyes squeezing shut as she leans into jyn. ]
He said — if I did this, if I went ... if I did, I'd lose him.
[ the end, goodbye. and daisy hadn't given in, because she hadn't been able to. how could she? she was never the kind of person to buckle and cave when someone else made the demands.
as if proof, she rolls her wrist, exposing the top of her hand and her now bare fingers to jyn under the light of the glow between them. ]
[ jyn would like to debone illya like a fucking trout.
but cassian has gotten under her skin like some irritating, cautious fungus so she refrains from mentioning that at present. daisy can no doubt feel the flare of anger in any case.
her fingers curl tighter against daisy's shoulder for a moment, too tight, before she relaxes her hand slightly. she gets it, the hollowness underneath the fury. the hole that comes from being abandoned once, carved out into a canyon after a lifetime of watching it happen over and over again, watching everyone leave and wishing that you'd been good enough this one time to hold on to someone. it eats away, eroding at any hope that someone will stick around when things get bad.
except jyn has hope. love is a verb. ]
Illya loves you because you are strong. He let fear get to him and he made a mistake. [ so have a lot of people this last week. ] He's a Hutt's ass, but you haven't lost him.
[ he may have lost daisy but that is up to her and jyn will always be on daisy's side. ]
I — [ but she doesn't know. what to say, what to feel. she's angry and hurt and miserable and lonely all at once, and it's difficult to know what instincts to rely on and which ones to ignore. even still, even as angry and bitter as she feels, the instinct to lean on him for support is still there. even as mad as she is at him, she wants him to hold onto her, to tell her it's going to be okay, that he'll be there with her every step of the way.
except he won't. he made that abundantly clear, drawing a line in the sand and making demands daisy never could have agreed to, and the ache of that loss feels like a chasm in her chest, a limb ripped off. it's just a ring, but even seeing her naked hand where it should be sends another wave of tears forward, a hiccuping cry that leaves her leaning forward, face burying against jyn's shoulder as she wavers in place. ]
I don't know what to do, [ is her pathetic, sad whine; the conflict too depressing to even verbalize. ]
[ jyn isn't equipped for this; she is the one that debones trout, cassian is the one with the clear head that can even make a decent point when they are screaming at each other -- she knows that he wasn't wrong on the ship after eadu. she has always known that nothing he said was wrong.
but daisy needs her and jyn feels like she is failing her friend, her first and most beloved friend, her sister, her family. arm curling tightly around daisy, trying to offer physical support even as she stumbles through emotional support. unknowingly she echoes daisy's train of thought. ]
The thing about lines in the sand is that a wave is going to come and erase it. He'll figure it out.
[ but that won't erase what happened, no waves can do that. lines like that become scars and jyn doesn't want daisy to lose herself in the familiar hurt of abandonment and the awful, broken (and wrong) realization that of course it was going to happen, it was only a matter of time... ]
[ have hope seems so obvious, so simple. but the sad truth is, daisy doesn't feel like she has any left. illya was her hope — the light at the end of the tunnel, the solid reminder that, finally, one person would stay. that her bad history of disappearances and deaths and betrayals would end in the actual happy ending that everyone said would come. if she was just patient enough, if she was just good enough, if she deserved it, she could have it.
and she had it... until she didn't anymore. ]
What if he doesn't?
[ what if it's daisy that's broken, too stubborn to give in, too damaged to love? what does she do then? ]
[ it is simple, but that doesn't make it easy. jyn has struggled to have hope her entire life and for the most part she didn't. she already told daisy the story of her cellmate, hope hasn't always come naturally to jyn. ]
He will. There's no life without you in it, not for him. He'll come around.
[ it's said with fierce determination. there is no other option. ]
If you don't believe it, I'll believe in it enough for the both of us.
[ daisy might drown in her own self-loathing, but she doesn't want to take that hope away from jyn. not when she knows all too well just how little jyn has had hope in the past, and how fiercely she is hanging on to it now. so she nods, just a slight dip of her head, and lets her suffering and her stature both sink into the other girl. ]
Okay.
[ if nothing else, daisy will have jyn. that matters too. ]
Come on, Cassian got us a room on the cheap side of town, but it has a bed fit for a Hutt. [ a beat, before an explanation follows. ] It's huge, we'll all fit.
Nah, it's fine. [ jyn waves her hand dismissively. she isn't going to make her sad friend sleep on the floor alone, even if jyn is particularly fond of her own personal space and privacy when it comes to her room. a motel doesn't count. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
not daisy. not tonight.
but the voice that's calling her name isn't a stranger. it's not some jackass who wants to tell her to cheer up, buttercup. it's not someone well-meaning asking if she needs something to carry all her... things...
it's jyn. and so, while daisy doesn't smile when she turns around, she does at least bother to do it. ]
Hey.
no subject
possession of unsanctioned weapons, check; forgery of imperial documents, technically it was el but check; unlawful contact with undesirables, check; petty theft, check; disorderly conduct, well daisy is right here making a mess, might as well help. ]
What's on the menu?
[ she'll ease into emotion. they're both skittish loth cats. ]
no subject
[ not least of all because the tingle of electricity in her hands feels like self-inflicted punishment, but mostly because they'll be practical weapons against the una. because, yes, daisy is still hell bent on doing the thing. even illya's shitty surprise ultimatum wasn't going to stop her. if anything, it just made her more stubborn. ]
Electric truncheons, if you want them.
[ she shrugs. ]
Contemplating murder.
no subject
[ she doesn't ask for some of the materials in daisy's arms, she simply takes a bunch, sharing the load silently so daisy can grab more. ]
Has the murder spread from UNA specific? I can get behind it probably.
no subject
so, to jyn, she only shakes her head, a noncommittal hum slipping through her lips as she weighs a metal rod in her palm. ]
If you thought I was going to die tomorrow, would you tell me to stay home?
[ she knows this question is perhaps unfair to ask of jyn, who has in fact already died once. if she'd known what would happen on the beach of scarif, would jyn have told cassian not to come? would she tell him now, if she could? ]
no subject
If I knew you were going to be hit by a hover-bus, I would maybe tell you to stay inside. But this?
[ her shoulders lift in a shrug, voice quiet but shot through with threads of that same intensity the alliance had ignored, the same intensity that had rallied rebels long after jyn herself was ash on a beach. ]
They wouldn't listen to us, about Scarif. We were there on our own because to the Alliance the risks outweighed the benefits. We had everything in our power to get the plans, to stop the Death Star, but the cost was too high. So it was just us. It wasn't a choice to any of us, we had to do it, even knowing the odds weren't in our favors.
I would still do it, knowing everything. I could never stop you.
[ some things are worth that price (the galaxy, this planet, zerzura) and this is worth it to daisy, jyn doesn't get to make that decision for her. for anyone. ]
no subject
[ that echoing certainty, faded and stretched too thin; for a long, long moment, all daisy is is silence, uncomfortable and heavy and painful as it settles into her skin. her mind rolls and whirs with thoughts: self-doubt, self-loathing, self-sacrifice. an attempt to give of herself when she has nothing left. if she can put herself on the pyre, so to speak, maybe it will be worth it.
in the quiet, soft sounds echo louder; when daisy doesn't speak, it's easier for jyn to hear the way she sniffs, the way her breath catches in her throat. she wipes at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt, but something still drips and falls against her neckline. she's crying, but trying so hard to stop.
when she does manage to say something else, it's hollow, her voice tripping and breaking over every other syllable. ]
He tried. To stop me, he tried to ... he left.
[ he's still here, in the city, somewhere. probably in that room, glaring at the wall. but he's not with her, not now, not anymore; there's an emptiness in daisy she hasn't carried in a long time. loss. ]
no subject
but then the words stumble out and anger flares in jyn's chest. on top of all of that, illya left. contemplating murder is now a common theme for both of them.
stretching her arm out, she drags daisy close. it's not quite a hug, a half embrace, enough to curl into each other, jyn pressing her forehead to daisy's, a gentle contact. their jackets disguise the glow and jyn is briefly grateful for the cold here keeping them safe for at least one whole night. ]
He is afraid. Fear makes people stupid.
no subject
but in her fear, she never abandoned anyone. she never made anyone choose. that same outrage flares in her again, bitter and hot and tight in her throat, and daisy sniffles a little, her eyes squeezing shut as she leans into jyn. ]
He said — if I did this, if I went ... if I did, I'd lose him.
[ the end, goodbye. and daisy hadn't given in, because she hadn't been able to. how could she? she was never the kind of person to buckle and cave when someone else made the demands.
as if proof, she rolls her wrist, exposing the top of her hand and her now bare fingers to jyn under the light of the glow between them. ]
no subject
but cassian has gotten under her skin like some irritating, cautious fungus so she refrains from mentioning that at present. daisy can no doubt feel the flare of anger in any case.
her fingers curl tighter against daisy's shoulder for a moment, too tight, before she relaxes her hand slightly. she gets it, the hollowness underneath the fury. the hole that comes from being abandoned once, carved out into a canyon after a lifetime of watching it happen over and over again, watching everyone leave and wishing that you'd been good enough this one time to hold on to someone. it eats away, eroding at any hope that someone will stick around when things get bad.
except jyn has hope. love is a verb. ]
Illya loves you because you are strong. He let fear get to him and he made a mistake. [ so have a lot of people this last week. ] He's a Hutt's ass, but you haven't lost him.
[ he may have lost daisy but that is up to her and jyn will always be on daisy's side. ]
no subject
except he won't. he made that abundantly clear, drawing a line in the sand and making demands daisy never could have agreed to, and the ache of that loss feels like a chasm in her chest, a limb ripped off. it's just a ring, but even seeing her naked hand where it should be sends another wave of tears forward, a hiccuping cry that leaves her leaning forward, face burying against jyn's shoulder as she wavers in place. ]
I don't know what to do, [ is her pathetic, sad whine; the conflict too depressing to even verbalize. ]
no subject
but daisy needs her and jyn feels like she is failing her friend, her first and most beloved friend, her sister, her family. arm curling tightly around daisy, trying to offer physical support even as she stumbles through emotional support. unknowingly she echoes daisy's train of thought. ]
The thing about lines in the sand is that a wave is going to come and erase it. He'll figure it out.
[ but that won't erase what happened, no waves can do that. lines like that become scars and jyn doesn't want daisy to lose herself in the familiar hurt of abandonment and the awful, broken (and wrong) realization that of course it was going to happen, it was only a matter of time... ]
Have hope. That's all you can do.
no subject
and she had it... until she didn't anymore. ]
What if he doesn't?
[ what if it's daisy that's broken, too stubborn to give in, too damaged to love? what does she do then? ]
no subject
He will. There's no life without you in it, not for him. He'll come around.
[ it's said with fierce determination. there is no other option. ]
If you don't believe it, I'll believe in it enough for the both of us.
no subject
Okay.
[ if nothing else, daisy will have jyn. that matters too. ]
I think I need to lie down.
no subject
[ three little orphans in a bed ]
no subject
[ she also has a room, technically, but it feels weird to go back there. ]
no subject
We have food, too.
[ and off they trot. ]