#( 𝒂𝒎𝒓𝒆𝒗 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 ; Cassie )

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( Cassie Roosevelt ; open starter -- mutuals only )

        ❝ Is there such a thing as too much change? Where you become entirely unrecognizable from the person you were yesterday? ❞ Cassie asks this question aloud, but doesn't entail if she's speaking of herself or not.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( Cassie Roosevelt ; moved to beta )

        𝐀 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞. Her father had invited a general or two into their home and presented them with the best-aged wine and the best cooking, but she wasn’t quite as well-versed in the ranks of the Continental Army to get an idea of what his rank was. Maybe it was the natural authority in his voice and the way the boys stiffened and considered their words before speaking that led her to believe this idea of authority. But he looked similar to her age. She felt mistaken--almost--for wrongfully assuming that all high-up army officials were older men with gray hair.

        Nervous tugged at her in her stomach when he directed his gaze towards her, despite the way he defended her a few moments earlier. 

        She swallowed down her nerves and fell back into that soft, confident speaking pattern she held onto before she fell into confusion by their laughter and jeers. She curtsied before the man and then as she stood up straight, she clasped her hands in front of her. ❝ Cassie Maurice Roosevelt. My father, William Roosevelt Jr., was the one who built the home. Before I sold it to another, I believe I left behind an item of mine in one of the rooms. I wish to retrieve it. ❞ Her last name might be full of disdain by now, feeling like she had to prepare herself for glares or scoffs whenever she gave her full name, but she believed it gave her a sense of power here. It may not be in her name anywhere, but the home would always be connected to her--to the Roosevelts--whether she liked it or not. She knew it was going to be easier to stand outside of the home than step inside if he allowed her entry, just for the number of memories it contained in its walls and furnishings. 

        ❝ Yes, I am aware that this is property of the Continental Army, barred from citizens of any social rank and class that are not military men. ❞ The words flowed easily from her lips. It was not her usual tone in conversation, but she had used her tool of persuasion before to serve her father -- now she’ll use it to serve herself. And only herself. ❝ I won’t take up too much of your time, sir. I won’t take up an hour, at most. ❞ You’ll hardly notice I was there. She was good at that. Hiding away, going unnoticed.

@honorhearted

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( Cassie Roosevelt ; closed starter )

        𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫. In the small corners of her mind, in her thoughts that run carelessly through her mind, her past called to her. What ifs, wonderments of what once was, and speculation on if she could’ve changed the tide of her future, but she tried to depress those thoughts to the back of her mind. Into the dark, murky shadows and waters, being buried deep within the fabrics of her memory and only recalled when it served her. So far, the thought of the past hadn’t been useful to her. In fact, it only made her tension worse. To ease this tension for her sanity’s sake, she tried to focus on the here and now. The present moment. Not on the next day, the week ahead, or the month after that. She learned how quickly her life could change in a day, in a month, and in a week that arranging in advance and fretting over the what if’s and the dreadful possibilities that await her could be for naught. The life she imagined she was guaranteed slipped through her fingers before she could truly grasp it.

        Then the past called again. Not in her mind, but in the people around her. The gossip hanging on the wind, what she overheard from those that knew her or did not know her. Vocally, she went by a different name, but legally, she still was tied to the Roosevelt name. She hasn’t been gifted with matrimony yet, to change her name for the better. So, when the past whispered into her ear again, the name that was intertwined so deeply in her past and set her for her current circumstance: she willingly pulled herself back to the name Casse Roosevelt. She shined a light on the shadows and on the rogue waves she purposely avoided. The past whispered that of Patriots being spotted near the Roosevelt home and how ironic it was with William Jr’s affiliation. The home still bore the sinful name of her father after its buyer sold it to another. Thus, the name of her father had been in the mouths of others again for what Cassie assumed wouldn’t be the last time.

        The home looked as if it was frozen in time. Her father ensured for the money he paid for its construction that the home would last for a long time, longer than his own lifespan. Once, she foolishly assumed he meant its longevity was meant for her, but what she thought she knew of her father was all a lie. By her own intention, she had been kept in the dark regarding the home. She had no idea what Washington had done with it or the owner before him, but she imagined the paint and wallpaper remained as it was still in fashion. The engravings were still intact on every archway and along the staircase railing. It was a respectable home for a respectable family full of dignity and honor--their own little palace--but looks were always deceiving. 

        As Cassie paid the man on the wagon a few shillings, she stepped forward up to the house. She walked its familiar porch steps, lifting the skirt of her dress to not step on it, but her eyes didn’t need to look down to watch over her steps. Even after being away from it for what felt like years rather than months, the layout of her childhood home with every step was embedded in her mind. She knew it as well as she knew formal dances and she assumed she wouldn’t partake in either now with her falling reputation. As she approached, she was met with the stony faces of the guards. They looked close to her age, but she wasn’t used to the sight of blue being so close to her home.

        As she spoke, she leveled her voice and made sure to soften its intonation. She acted as if she spoke with a royal officer, her cheeks flushed from the outside chill and politeness in her tone. But as she continued, she paused and cut herself off when she saw one of the guards curl their lips into a smirk with a bounce of their brows.

        ❝ My apologies, madam, but we don’t tolerate tories or turncoats. ❞

        ❝ Turncoats? ❞ Cassie questioned, leaving behind that polite and refined tone for a confused, spirited one. He had practically knocked her off kilter with a singular sentence. ❝ I’m not a-- ❞ Was he assuming she was as double-crossing as her father that she was now begging for the aid of the Patriots? For now, confusion blanketed any anger and she stepped back when the man reached for her arm. ❝ I had no part in this war. ❞ Her father certainly did with his perceived loyalty to the Crown, but as if with everything in her life, it seemed as if Cassie was left with little freedom of her own and pigeonholed into a place that made her useful for others. Not by choice.

@honorhearted

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

I still have to figure out Cassie's turn verse a bit, but I honestly don't think she would be a spy? Maybe involuntarily? (Someone sneaked intelligence on her or misled her in some way in giving information that actually has intelligence). She just wants security in this verse and against her own will, she probably gets involved :/