[ what a fitting thing it is for the god of arid, dead lands, to make a believer out of a dead man, who'd been forced to make his heart a wasteland.
cassian expects the scrutiny, of course. who wouldn't want to know? and he knows how to bear up under it without a flicker, even when the source is a creature like set. he's been doing this for years; he's been in the crosshairs of much more malicious entities. it's not that he doubts set's power or capacity for brutality so much as that he knows that the desert god doesn't desire his suffering, his death, taking everything vital inside of him and twisting it irreparably, dispassionately, for the sake of a status quo. i said i would kill you, not desecrate you. and so, it is safe to say: he's known worse.
he doesn't expect the pulse of purification. cassian expresses himself quietly, and the only tell is the brief catch in his breathing. but he doesn't refuse it this time. he doesn't pull away from the healing energy; he doesn't move to retake his hand. his eyes fall back to the plant as his hand is drawn there, makes a soft hum of understanding as he begins to parse the information he's being given. it comes easily. cassian had been born in a green, blooming place, even if the planet had entered its death throes not long after. in another life, in another galaxy, maybe both he and kenari would've survived.
but in this one, he listens, now pliable and biddable under set's ministrations. he listens. he takes the sentiments, whole and untarnished, and he places them somewhere visible, somewhere that he can revisit them. he can't believe them now, really, but he might be able to. one day, he might. it's harder to dismiss set's assertion in his potential than jyn's, funnily; but the god has had a deep look inside of him that jyn has not. she only saw the last of his days with the rebellion, the failed mission to terminate galen erso, the desperate grasp to stop the death star. she wasn't there for days and years before that, every scrap of his humanity ripped out from inside him and traded for the rebellion's benefit. no one in kenos was either, of course, but some of them had seen fragments of memories. set surely has no illusions about how far he has gone, would go, for a cause.
he's always feared jyn saw him as better than he is, would let go once she understood the truth. and maybe, in some ways, that's what's happened. what will happen if his actions come to light. but after what they've been through, he no longer fears set's judgment.
and so, cassian andor does not speak. he doesn't argue, refute, belittle. his answer is the absence of pushback, to what's said, to what he's directed to do with this little plant. ]
no subject
cassian expects the scrutiny, of course. who wouldn't want to know? and he knows how to bear up under it without a flicker, even when the source is a creature like set. he's been doing this for years; he's been in the crosshairs of much more malicious entities. it's not that he doubts set's power or capacity for brutality so much as that he knows that the desert god doesn't desire his suffering, his death, taking everything vital inside of him and twisting it irreparably, dispassionately, for the sake of a status quo. i said i would kill you, not desecrate you. and so, it is safe to say: he's known worse.
he doesn't expect the pulse of purification. cassian expresses himself quietly, and the only tell is the brief catch in his breathing. but he doesn't refuse it this time. he doesn't pull away from the healing energy; he doesn't move to retake his hand. his eyes fall back to the plant as his hand is drawn there, makes a soft hum of understanding as he begins to parse the information he's being given. it comes easily. cassian had been born in a green, blooming place, even if the planet had entered its death throes not long after. in another life, in another galaxy, maybe both he and kenari would've survived.
but in this one, he listens, now pliable and biddable under set's ministrations. he listens. he takes the sentiments, whole and untarnished, and he places them somewhere visible, somewhere that he can revisit them. he can't believe them now, really, but he might be able to. one day, he might. it's harder to dismiss set's assertion in his potential than jyn's, funnily; but the god has had a deep look inside of him that jyn has not. she only saw the last of his days with the rebellion, the failed mission to terminate galen erso, the desperate grasp to stop the death star. she wasn't there for days and years before that, every scrap of his humanity ripped out from inside him and traded for the rebellion's benefit. no one in kenos was either, of course, but some of them had seen fragments of memories. set surely has no illusions about how far he has gone, would go, for a cause.
he's always feared jyn saw him as better than he is, would let go once she understood the truth. and maybe, in some ways, that's what's happened. what will happen if his actions come to light. but after what they've been through, he no longer fears set's judgment.
and so, cassian andor does not speak. he doesn't argue, refute, belittle. his answer is the absence of pushback, to what's said, to what he's directed to do with this little plant. ]