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A Delicate Machine
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Cass could count the conversations they had had since Trav died on their one good hand. Two explosions. Two avengers. Two murderers. Two sharp cracks. This left them woefully unprepared for Asuka's company. Every thought that came to mind found itself left behind as she moved on to the next subject, a sunbeam suited for the clear skies outside.

"...Yeah. I've, uh. Been carrying around two bags for a couple days now, so if you need anything I can share stuff too?" Cass said, accepting one of Asuka's ration bars. They had lost people they had known, and people that they had grown to know; but none of that had to be Asuka's problem. She had surely lost loved ones too, and Cass wasn't gonna ask her to open her heart any more to feel the absence of the friend of an acquaintance.

"Other than that I've been lucky? Relatively? Got stabbed once but I still punched the guy for being an asshole so I guess that kinda balances." And that was enough dwelling on their sorry life. "Sounds like you're making the most of your time here though, for what my opinion's worth. Trying to live instead of just surviving, right?"

They shifted slightly in their seat, staring down at the closed sketchbook in their lap. "I... admire that a lot, actually. I've just... been here. Probably will be until someone gets around to killing me." Asuka had been making a difference to people, not just selfishly hoping - and failing, so far - to find some semblance of worth within herself.
a tribute for the dead and dying

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Rivers of Sadness and Mutual Need · The Hunting Cabin