[The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.
Cassian Andor was burning out. Having been an agent for the Alliance at an age where he shouldn't have known (and been part of) the horrors of war, perhaps it made sense that everything he had seen and done was starting to weigh heavily upon his thin shoulders.
In no uncertain terms, Draven had told him to get his shit together or risk being grounded indefinitely until Alliance psychs proclaimed him fit for duty and he no longer apt to take unnecessary risks or put himself in danger as a way of … indirectly killing himself. He was sure that he'd hit the breaking point eventually, but for the time being, there was always something to be done, and Cassian continued to be the best man for most jobs.
Here he was, trudging through the gathering snow, keeping a lookout for his contact - who he assumed was not one of the locals who were mostly all scurrying for shelter away from the storm. There, he thought, watching a little longer as she walked, that's her. Decidedly not a local. Not at all prepared for the weather. Tha was his contact.
Cassian changed his trajectory to intersect with hers, his voice low and steady as he neared close enough for her to hear.]
You'll catch your death of cold out here dressed like that. I know a place.
no subject
Cassian Andor was burning out. Having been an agent for the Alliance at an age where he shouldn't have known (and been part of) the horrors of war, perhaps it made sense that everything he had seen and done was starting to weigh heavily upon his thin shoulders.
In no uncertain terms, Draven had told him to get his shit together or risk being grounded indefinitely until Alliance psychs proclaimed him fit for duty and he no longer apt to take unnecessary risks or put himself in danger as a way of … indirectly killing himself. He was sure that he'd hit the breaking point eventually, but for the time being, there was always something to be done, and Cassian continued to be the best man for most jobs.
Here he was, trudging through the gathering snow, keeping a lookout for his contact - who he assumed was not one of the locals who were mostly all scurrying for shelter away from the storm. There, he thought, watching a little longer as she walked, that's her. Decidedly not a local. Not at all prepared for the weather. Tha was his contact.
Cassian changed his trajectory to intersect with hers, his voice low and steady as he neared close enough for her to hear.]
You'll catch your death of cold out here dressed like that. I know a place.