It’s barely a chide, though it could be taken as such if they weren’t more strangers than friends. Instead, Roland sounds weirdly hopeful, weird only for the time and place he says these things; even moreso, to the person he’s saying them to. The gates whirl to life again, and they’re connected to the sleeper cabins in record time, Roland’s body slowly getting used to the fuzz of traveling this way.
The walk to the front of his cabin door is relatively quiet on his end. There’s no bothering to fill that silence with anything but the sound of steps against the floor of the train cars, until they reach their destination. He takes his ticket and unlocks the entryway, where he steps to the side somewhat to give Tidus view of the line of double-decker beds. For now, the sleeper cabin remains devoid of his roommates.
It’s as clear as the carrel in the library where Roland has nested; the bottom row, to the left, with carefully folded sheets, a pillow, and some familiar objects on display where there are surfaces to be had. The robot figurine, remaining bottles of lotion and perfume, haircare products and a purple blanket that runs across a clean spread.
“There’s a journal under my pillow, and more books and notes in the cubby. The riven and the memoris too. It’s not a lot of space, but it’ll be organized. At the very least, you won’t wonder where anything is.”
He turns to Tidus now, a curious mix of resolute and sentimental gleaming through brown eyes.
“I only keep personal effects inside my arms band, now. Weapons, supplies. Books and journals cycle either through my cabin or in the library. I don’t take them with me anymore.”
It’s at that point, Roland thinks, he doesn’t have to explain any further, though he’s ready to say it out loud if needed. He smiles, almost happy that he’s gotten this far.
no subject
It’s barely a chide, though it could be taken as such if they weren’t more strangers than friends. Instead, Roland sounds weirdly hopeful, weird only for the time and place he says these things; even moreso, to the person he’s saying them to. The gates whirl to life again, and they’re connected to the sleeper cabins in record time, Roland’s body slowly getting used to the fuzz of traveling this way.
The walk to the front of his cabin door is relatively quiet on his end. There’s no bothering to fill that silence with anything but the sound of steps against the floor of the train cars, until they reach their destination. He takes his ticket and unlocks the entryway, where he steps to the side somewhat to give Tidus view of the line of double-decker beds. For now, the sleeper cabin remains devoid of his roommates.
It’s as clear as the carrel in the library where Roland has nested; the bottom row, to the left, with carefully folded sheets, a pillow, and some familiar objects on display where there are surfaces to be had. The robot figurine, remaining bottles of lotion and perfume, haircare products and a purple blanket that runs across a clean spread.
“There’s a journal under my pillow, and more books and notes in the cubby. The riven and the memoris too. It’s not a lot of space, but it’ll be organized. At the very least, you won’t wonder where anything is.”
He turns to Tidus now, a curious mix of resolute and sentimental gleaming through brown eyes.
“I only keep personal effects inside my arms band, now. Weapons, supplies. Books and journals cycle either through my cabin or in the library. I don’t take them with me anymore.”
It’s at that point, Roland thinks, he doesn’t have to explain any further, though he’s ready to say it out loud if needed. He smiles, almost happy that he’s gotten this far.
“Questions?”