[ Tidus will have plenty of 'yeah, buts' to defend his nose-sticking into council runnings compared to actually the heart of politics, even if it comes down to him just being a nosy beggar at the end of the day, or maybe be spurned on for one reason or another. Nevertheless, Tidus is listening now, rather preferring that to being the one speaking (unless he doesn't like what he hears). Meanwhile, on his side, it turns out there isn't really much for him to do about the rest of the cleaning, everything piled and waiting to be pushed through.

So with that, he takes back his whole walk around and returns to Roland's other side, dealing with sticking the cutlery into their containers, giving the quickest of wipes. But he does so with a smile turning on his lips, a playfulness bordering on mischief in tone as he takes a fork in hand, slowly waving it. ]

Sooo, you're saying you want my nomination? You need a good pitch going into it, right? [ And it sounds like Roland has them in spades, speaking fluidly this entire time--more so than himself. ] What else are you gonna sell me on to get my vote? [ Or, more importantly: ] What's a pitch like for these things anyway?

[ hi, he just knows there's a pitch apparently but not what it's about. But he'll put that fork with its brothers now, the small clatter of steel against steel. ]