2017-05-20: A New Twist on Old Habits

From Dream Chasers
Jump to navigation Jump to search
  • Cutscene: A New Twist on Old Habits
  • Cast: Cassidy Cain
  • Where: Adlehyde
  • Date: May 20, 2017
  • Summary: Takes place before the Battle of Adlehyde. Doctor and alienist Lucas Maurier finds longtime acquaintance Cassidy Cain in his office, who asks him for a very confusing favor.

All things considered, Lucas Maurier, ph.D., had a good thing going in Adlehyde.

He had set up his private practice in the capital several years ago with stars in his eyes and fire in his stomach, determined to continue where his older brother, Jonathan, had left off. The initial year or two had been rougher than even he expected; his services were largely considered niche and unorthodox, especially in a culture that prided itself on being stubborn, hardworking and independent folk, and relatively jealous in guarding their private business. But he persevered, after months of doing whatever he could to secure the locals' trust, a commodity, while precious, was absolutely essential to his line of work. Clients trickled in eventually and with them came the realization that even here, sometimes, people just needed someone to talk to, to keep their secrets under guarded lock and key and give them advice.

These days, he served his newfound community as its resident alienist. The profession itself wasn't particularly lucrative, but he made a modest and honest living, and the money was secondary to his passion, and one he shared with his deceased brother; to unlock the particulars of human behavior, its patterns and triggers. It had put him in the path of several very enterprising and interesting souls and the very act had added much needed color in a life steeped in academia and perpetually coated in Ignas' red dust. There were days when he considered it fitting, really, considering how some of the more interesting events in the continent's recent history had something to do with digging up the past. It made others fall back in touch with their own, made them think about their own histories and the diverse avenues that took them in the places they were, now. And occasionally, some of these individuals needed his assistance to decipher these personal developments.

That didn't mean he was always eager to see them, however. Certain people, in particular.

Most especially the one that was waiting in his office.

His suite was a quiet converted space located on top of Adelaide's Flowers in the heart of Aldehyde, a nondescript building situated in the midst of the town's major crossroads. He took any and all painstaking attempts to make it comfortable and more conducive to conversation; plush seating in the waiting room, a long, comfortable chaise in the middle of his own office, with his own chair taking up the other side and always within eye level of it. His bookshelves were filled with volumes covering a wide array of topics that would put any library to shame, not that he had read them all, but more often than not, they have sparked breakthroughs by the virtue of opening up a patient enough for him or her to talk about personal interests and unrealized dreams. His desk dominated the area in front of his windows and their velvet drapes, arranged with knick-knacks, a small collection acquired from his travels that also functioned as toys for his visitors to fiddle with. More often than not, the way they were held was indicative of something, too. Rough fingers, smooth fingers, those caked with dirt or ink, his brother did tell him back in their boyhood years that he could divine many a detail just by examining a person's hands. As always, he was right.

He found her sitting on his chair, and not the reclining chaise; even that small, insignificant bit of mischief told him something about her, though he had no illusions that his female caller had not worked that out herself the moment he walked through his door. Eyes the color of a sunlit glade lifted to meet his from across the room.

"Luke."

Oh, my giddy aunt.

Lucas sighed and closed the door behind him. "Cassidy."

"Dinnae I tell you I was going tae visit, eventually?"

"Between you and me, I was hoping you would forget."

He was tall and in his thirties, and always impeccably well-dressed in three-piece suits, though his personality was warmly affable enough that it neutralized whatever distance his professional clothes tended to encourage. Long legged strides took him to his desk, accessing its locked cabinet to draw out a bottle of bourbon and two snifters. A gentleman to a fault and in spite of this visit stirring claws of apprension in his stomach, he still managed to maintain some degree of hospitality. Really, though, the stiff drink was more for him than her.

A few more steps took Lucas back to her seated form, handing the snifter over, which she took with a loose cradle of deft, elegant fingers which he couldn't help but study. For a woman who lived and spoke roughly, whatever calluses that would be there were smoothed over by some fastidious skin care regimen, though he had never managed to discover why she would bother. She had been his brother's subject and once-traveling companion, not his; his letters on the road often spoke of her, largely the reason why he felt that he knew her, in whatever degree anyone could ever claim to know Cassidy Cain, well before he even met her, in terms that were glowing and censuring in equal measure.

"I suppose," he began, watching her as she took in the room curiously between nursing sips of bourbon. "You're not here to sit on the recliner."

"Dinnae think I seemed like the type." Cassidy inclined her head at him, shooting him with that sharp, cutting smile. "Besides, it's a little too late for that, dinnae you think?"

"You already know what I'm going to say to that," the alienist murmured, wood creaking as he leaned against the edge of his desk. "I don't think it's too late for anybody."

"Nae everything that's broken can be fixed, luv."

Lucas glanced down at his bourbon. Within the swirling, rich amber, he caught a glimpse of his brother's shadow swinging from the end of a length of rope.

"I know." He took a sip of his own. "But just the act of trying can help."

The words tempered the blonde woman's smile, laden with something that almost looked like regret. He watched her studiously inspect the glass in her fingers, fully expecting her to launch into whatever business had brought her through his door. But she didn't say anything for a long moment and as he remained by his place on the desk, he couldn't help but examine her profile and take in the changes wrought on her person from the last time he had seen her. She hadn't changed much since the funeral, but looks were deceiving.

"So what do I owe the visit, Cass?" he wondered, finally.

Cassidy twisted on her seat, a leg hooking over her opposite knee. Once prompted, she didn't even hesitate: "The captain of King Justin's Royal Guard still a patient of yours?"

The alienist stared at her from where he was leaning. Pushing off the desk, he pivoted on his heel as he started to pace across the room; tension tightened the line of his shoulders, mind and heart racing. There was a reason why he didn't keep a secretary, opting to maintain his books himself - his appointment lists were something he kept under tight lock and key. The fact that Cassidy knew that much was unnerving to say the least, and he couldn't help but wonder how. It was one of the reasons why he held the townspeople's trust in the first place and the idea of close to a decade's worth of work going into the proverbial trash fire caused his hackles to rise. Spinning around, he glowered at his visitor.

"You did not," he began through clenched teeth. "Break into my home. Did you?"

The ignited spark of his temper did nothing but turn the woman's attention back to him and away from her glass. He found amusement in her expression and that did absolutely nothing to ease the iron coils of fury and worry strangling his stomach.

"Nae," Cassidy said after a long moment of watching him. "I dinnae. That information came from the other side, luv, nae anything tae do with you or your precious papers. Easier tae get words out of a couple of inebriated lieutenants than the courageous, honorable types like yourself."

He weighed her with a pair of stormy-blue eyes, but whatever he saw on her face made him believe her, as much of a gamble that always was. The man lifted a hand, raking it through his dark hair. "If you got the information elsewhere, then you already know," he muttered. "But whatever you're up to, Cass, I don't want to be a part of it, or anything that even smells like treason. I'm finally making strides and-- "

"It's nae anything like that, luv."

"What?"

The woman took another sip of her bourbon. "It is, in fact, the opposite." Pale-gold head inclining towards him, the easy smile returned. "Nae bullshite, luv. This is serious, and I would nae be coming tae your door if it was nae, or if I dinnae need your help."

"You've never needed my help before."

"You're in the business of saving and enriching lives, Luke," Cassidy pointed out, shoulders lifting in a faint shrug. "May nae be as immediately as some of the rough and tumble types I know, but that's in essence what you do. Thought this would be more in your wheelhouse than mine."

That got his attention immediately. Curious but wary eyes fell on his visitor, before his hand tipped his glass to his mouth, draining the rest of the bourbon. He already knew, deep down, that he was going to regret asking. But he also knew himself; knew he would , because he couldn't help himself.

She knew that, too, and that didn't make the truth less galling.

"And what guarantee do I have that you're not going to screw me over?" he asked wearily.

"Because I want you tae get a leg up on that and screw me over before I'm tempted tae do the same thing tae you."

His brows furrowed. Stopping back at his desk, he reached for the bottle and poured half its contents into his waiting snifter.

"Now I'm confused," he confessed.

Cassidy smiled; after a hearty gulp of her bourbon, she leaned towards him from where she sat.

"I need you tae write a letter for me."