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His hand pats Tidus’s shoulder firmly, before dropping back to his lap, then back to his arms crossed tight. The reassurances are received with a small sigh escaping his lips, a breathy respite from having to run marathons in worry for their well-being. It was no reassurance when he saw their names still active, after all - it didn’t change the fact that they disappeared.
No. That they were taken.
“…Not a lot. The whole sting operation they had us do was suspicious from the start, though. After the first day, it was pretty obvious what this was. Pretty sure other people felt the same. I told Demyx my concerns but he disappeared afterwards too. I was mostly going at things alone, till we were so pleasantly kicked out of their stage.”
The wording is important here, Roland unable to hide his disdain; the only sign that he isn’t pleased, as none of them should be. Rightfully. His fist grips, fingers curled inwards. “What…happened when they took you? All of you?” And left the rest of them scrambling around like they were being judged for their worth, of how fast to escape, to solve puzzles, to sleep through the invisible monsters of the night.
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"We were taken to a room - all of us, far as I could figure out," Tidus begins, remembering the events well enough. At least, discussing them. "One at a time. We'd black out and realise we were in there, and then these two guys show up, all covered up in some outfit. Real tall guys - kinda creepy at the beginning."
Even during and after, but more so in the initial meeting.
"They said they were with the Ministry, part of the inspection team to figure out what was going on. Said the whole thing was a simulated exercise that you guys were going through." He looks at Roland then when he says it, nodding. "But with us, they seemed more interested in the train and about what happened with Diagad -- the fake one. I figured they heard about it from Anan and her team."
Makes sense. It wasn't exactly a small-scale incident.
"For all the creeping around and worrying they were putting us through outside there, they seemed..." He pauses, figuring out the words he wants to use, a small huff. "They weren't bad. They wanted to know how we were, and what we thought the train was up to, too. Said whatever happened wouldn't be up to them, but-"
His memories are a mish-mash, but he does recall-
"They knew about me." He makes a gesture at himself. "About...needing the train to stick around, without me saying anything. They did shine some light over us... was probably some kinda scanner."
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The hum he emits from his chest is low, a vibration that speaks volumes. Then he speaks, eyes still closed. “Well now. Where to begin?”
The obvious, of course, is where it makes most sense.
“The visual on the two interrogators seem consistent with the train’s previous run-in with them-“ At least, this is what he can infer from the narrative given. “-But they knew more about the passengers now than when they entered the Voidtrecker in the past, correct? Hm.”
Then again, it wasn’t strange to assume that big wigs in the ministry were sitting on their laurels when it came to a rogue craft as infamous as them. They were learning. Oh, yes. This is what Roland comes to understand fully and wholeheartedly, more than anything.
Finally, he uncrosses his arms to look Tidus straight in the eye, as if reading not just the words out of his mouth, but his mood too.
“When the Ministry men talked to you, did you ever get the feeling that they wanted more information about one issue over the other?” Roland pivots slightly in his seat, attention on Tidus. “Were the events on Diagad something they invested in a bit more than the fact that we were kidnapped peoples from across the universe, playing heroes for the train?”
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For whatever little it could mean, it seemed to mean to reassure. That's his memory of the interview - that even with the things that couldn't be promised, nothing pressured him about the conversation.
"Not a lot of people liked them." Which, there weren't a lot of people liking them now, from the people who got taken, and those that did. Tidus puts a hand to the back of his head, a fiddling that doesn't go anywhere except messing with his hair.
"But I didn't get a bad feeling from them. I know that doesn't mean a lot, but..."
But it stuck with him.
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Skepticism comes easy to Roland but there’s no honest reason for him to doubt intentions, especially when the train has given them little room to hope. That they would one day be free was a certainty it promised once, on the rare occasions it deigned speech, but under conditions of its making - revived from death if needed, till it was satisfied with its goal. Of which, Roland would also note, was never crystal clear to begin with.
There’s something else Roland must address, and it’s not the obvious takeaway that the Ministry men were popular among the crowd of the kidnapped. Indeed, the timely shake of his head and the look he gives Tidus means as much as his words express. “Don’t say that. It’s important that you were able to gauge them even with what short interactions you had.” It’s why Roland had to ask anyway, trusting that someone as outright and honest as Tidus could properly interpret shady and malicious folk with a natural ease about them. “I guess it just sounds like they were on the clock, doing their jobs. But, hm.”
He takes a moment to quell a flurry of thoughts in his head. A beat of silence, followed by looking away to the side, eyes glazed over with cogs churning to find some semblance of truth. Roland swivels back around with a determined dip of his brow when he’s sure of what to say, or at least, of what to ponder on out loud with his companion.
“A part of me was hoping to see a bit more into their true intentions so we could tip the scales to our favor. While they’re aware we’re not at fault for our circumstance, they’re not actively trying to save us from it either. Probably because we’re technically complicit to the rogue activity of the train, and don’t even register as void missionaries. Still. Even currying their favor well enough to make them invested in our safety is a gamble I’m not sure we can win.”
His chin dips towards his chest somewhat. “It may be that to ‘save’ us, they’ll prioritize capturing and destroying the rogue void vehicle first. After all, what does it matter to the ministry if we disappear after they get the Voidtrecker? That’s saving to them, as opposed to being used as its puppets.”
It’s a long-winded approach to another worry, which Roland also doesn’t hide. “Which is why the train’s getting more and more frantic when it comes to the ministry. And entities beyond.” Diagad, even before then, with the illusions in multiple planets… “Everybody knows the Voidtrecker’s M.O. Find a distress signal. Get mission coordinates. Save it, no if’s or but’s. Even if we don’t have enough information to actually do the job. Exhibit A.” The mission just now, and even Diagad itself, pulled into an orbit the train could not avoid.
“The ministry knew that. It knows the train can’t say no. There’s…a lot of conflicting agendas here. The train. The ministry. Magical, illusion-making, world-eating things.”
He could almost laugh. “I’m not sure who to turn to, when it feels like we’re just chess pieces moving across the board. What do they all have in common, though? These players using us for their ends. I think if we can just get to the bottom of that, we’ll have a better chance of how to go about this mess when it surprises us.”
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"If they decide to let us die, then it wasn't on the table before, not when they sent those guys to interview. I'm not gonna say someone's not gonna think it or say that's not a chance, but I get the impression everyone's as confused about the train's deal is as we are."
Is it too optimistic? Xehanort had called him as much, too trusting; when Tidus goes off on his gut feelings, and the Inspectors didn't unnerve him the same way as others. But he doesn't want it to be painted like naivety either, letting his arms fold and back slump forward some.
"I get there's got to be some reason the train didn't like them. The Captain wasn't sure about them either. But why doesn't the train like them? --is it 'cause it's a runaway? Or is there more to it? That's what we need to know. But if you took out what was in the Captain's message, what you and the others heard--"
His head's been turning in Roland's direction, but then Tidus pauses. Brief, small; a reminder in the back of his mind that comes forward, makes him bumble a bit as he tries to recover, ignoring it. Looking back away.
"--b-before that, we said we'd try anything, wouldn't we? 'Cause we need answers. And even if they had to trick us to get a meeting 'cause the train's been ignoring them... What do you think?"
He turns back to Roland again, a pinched mouth, brow too.
"The mission sucked. Separating us sucked. Knowing they can stop people using their powers - that sucks too. But none of us got hurt. They weren't saying we were in trouble or pushing us around. They listened." Maybe he is being blinded, going back to that spot, his head shaking some.
"I dunno... is it really that bad when they weren't putting us in danger? They didn't just lock us up and tell us what to do."
Compared to how being on the train feels like.
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The good Captain, huh…
“That we did. You’re right.” He inhales deeply, through his nose. The inclination to look up at the sky itched terribly, but there was no sky to behold here. Only the meaningless, confounding void. “I’m just being cautious. It’s good practice not to put all your eggs in one basket too. While they’ve given us no reason to overtly doubt them, or be dishonest with them, they do have an agenda. They have a goal that isn’t known to us. It’s one thing to offer yourself up as an ally-“ The way Anan did, and others before her, Roland’s sure. Now long gone… “-It’s also an entirely different thing to just keep to yourself. A part of me felt like we were being tested, on the outside.”
He opens his fist, examines his sword hand and the peppered callouses and scratches on the palm. “The invisible enemies, the puzzles…Didn’t it seem like they were putting us through our paces, both physical and mental? Was that light scanner on you really just to give them an idea of who you were? Then there was that announcement at the end, before we were taken back. Thank you for your compliance? As if we had a choice. It was more coercion than compliance. Whatever the ministry wants with the train, and by extension, with us, I know it can’t be as simple as sending them an S.O.S. to extract us from our tethers. If it was, they would have done it and the train would be their’s for the taking.”
Ah, but he’s catching himself in the midst of his own mind’s constant doubt; and if he remembers that promise, to fight on no matter what, then there was no room for this yet. Or he hopes, there will never be any room for it at all, that this could be as straightforward as finding the path to the exit and barging their way through.
Roland breaks the reverie he sets with another shake of his head and a controlled smile that stretches the corners of his mouth. He looks to his friend and it’s as if the shadows that colored Roland’s continence have all but passed; no trace of it lingering in the smooth panes of his face. “Anyway. Just musings of the old, pro. Don’t mind me. Heh. We’ll keep at it, okay? I haven’t forgotten to play my part.”
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"You're not wrong. Whoever the Ministry turn out to be, they stopped people from using their powers; we saw that. And the exercise was a training simulation... they said they were testing us."
He then pauses, lets his tongue click against the roof of his mouth as he leans back.
"Agh. Why is everyone in the void so... annoying about everything?"
The train, the Ministry. It's always a pain with everyone, no one ever asking anything straightforward. Just pushing them into place. At least the inspectors let us go, is the wry thought left with Tidus. He puts his hands on his knees, staring at the ground; frown returning as he remembers what thought had caught in his mouth before.
"I... I told them, about the Captain," he admits hesitantly. "That you and Seto spoke to her. About the train's planet, it being real. I don't know if it was a good idea, but..."
But there it is, known. Tidus looks at Roland, not wanting to hide his face with shame, even though his eyes do flicker some in their hold.
"They know about the radio too."
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He chuckles in response, an ease settling about him as the conversation tapers off into one thing or another; worries shared and unshared because there was no need to reiterate what they both already know. The train and its many mysteries, layered together inconvenient and obscured…
Once more does Roland feel obligated to thank Tidus for expressing what they both feel.
Then again, there are other things which Roland is unable to read from the other. Was it guilt or approval which drives Tidus to admit such a thing, in the cover of his hunched back over his knees? There’s an urge, strong and sure, to reassure the younger- that Roland’s no arbiter of decisions, that if he ever expressed such a thing to him in the past, it was more habit than disappointment.
So this time, he doesn’t allow himself any sense of knowing better because Roland knows for a fact that he doesn’t. He’s more honest, drawn out by the same act of forthcoming, smiling once before crossing his arms again to be more comfortable in his seat. Even if his reading of such a display was wrong, it felt better to go about it in this way than any other pretense he might have let on if Tidus was speaking to a Roland of yore. “I’m sure Halo was no secret to them. Or was it? Plus, we needed them to hear us out anyway, so that was as good a time as any to make us seem like we’re trying. And we have been.”
He nods, and then a thought is able to catch up just in time-
“What did they say about the radio? Did they find our old messages, from way back then, too?”
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"They wanted it so they could send us a message when they were ready. The train won't answer them, apparently - it just ignores them. If they knew about what Anan did to it, I couldn't tell. But, they probably just picked up its frequency, right? We don't have any way of contacting her back on there."
So there wasn't a lot to be concerned about with the radio. So Tidus hopes, though he wonders if there's a way of tracking them with that radio. But if there was - it'd be a problem when it became a problem. When being tracked by the Ministry wasn't what any of them wanted.
"I didn't have that message, you know? That Halo left. The one you've got." He says it with a nod to Roland. That long SCA message that Roland recorded once on his phone. "So they didn't hear it. ...I wonder why they never picked up you or Seto though. I was expecting it, waiting in there."
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What’s one void missionary’s power over that of the organization bent on creating a bureaucracy out of chaos? Not that it helped his concerns; that too, he shares with Tidus, through the loud exhale he emits, or the slow dip of his brow back to his usual countenance. The Ministry has not harmed them, but they also have not done much to save them, and non-action is sometimes worse.
“And I wouldn’t think too much about their choice of who to take. If they cherry-picked who to talk to, it’d be a poor sampling of the facts. Then they’d only have one story to go by. No. I think it had to be either by random chance, or they didn’t put much rhyme and reason to it at all. That way, if someone’s opinion over the train was different, they had somebody else’s account to reference.”
Though Roland of all people would know how much of an illusion of choice such methods could create too. Elections were run in a similar manner, but this was no ordinary poll. This was a test of them all; of who sympathized, of who was mad, of who was willing to cooperate. For what? He can only guess.
“…It was good that you didn’t have a copy to show of Halo’s final words.” Roland’s voice dips to a controlled murmur, even if they were the only two sat by the bench. “She didn’t exactly have a glowing review of how the void and the ministry basically erased her people and her home from existence. Allegedly.” He adds, quick to the tongue, almost comedic in timing.
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He leans on his elbows again, back hunching for them to rest against his lap.
"...We need to know more about the Ministry," he says finally, as tired as those words were to say at that point. "And find more people who can help us with the train's planet. We can't have that info die with us."
As dramatic as bringing death on the table is, though Tidus doesn't say it with any added weight or severity. He turns his head to Roland, his hands clasping together in front of him.
"Can you try asking the train? I don't think it'll work, but if there's more to them than we don't know, we need to know. We can't keep playing these mystery games."
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Which is to say it’s only among good, trustworthy company does a guy like Roland admit his own shortcomings. He did it more often than he realized with Evan, though it’s a realization that honest nature is easy to repay in kind.
“What do you want me to ask?”
If Tidus didn’t expect the question to return to him so promptly, it’s because Roland hid it carefully behind a serious expression, eyes on the other with actual interest. “The last time I asked the train about the ministry and its relation to it, the train outright screamed at me that they’re bad eggs. Do you think it’ll change its tune now?” After everything? After almost getting caught?
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Was there anything more? Where those two facts are worrying alone, they're not enough without evidence - not with the amount of time wasted with the train's secrecy - for Tidus to rely on possibilities to make him cautious. He's still got it, still worries about what's to come, but he doesn't want to write off a group of people entirely.
Even with his own experience with big shots in power. There were plenty of good people - even Roland showed that.
"The train can't really point to those guys setting us up and holding us for a while when it's been holding us all this time either. Getting spooked and freaked out's nothing to it sending us off on planets about to be destroyed."
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It feels like he had wasted his question at the time, but hindsight is fifty-fifty.
“At the very least, it doesn’t go against it’s own story. If they’re caught, we’ll all be caught with it as accomplices to void crimes and the train will probably be decommissioned.” Logical. And yet his ponderous thoughts drift elsewhere; not too far away that the conversation he’s having with Tidus is left to simmer more than it must.
“…You know, the train and the ministry have more in common than we think.” Roland looks at the wayward tomes, journals, and notebooks to the side of the bench unoccupied. How long have they all tried to make sense of it all, yet at each juncture, they always come up two or three steps too short.
“Whatever their individual agendas, this fake-out mission proves both train and ministry need us. The train for obvious reasons, and the ministry for what information we can provide to help them get one step closer to the Voidtrecker.” Radio signals aside. They were boarded before. They could do things that neither train nor passenger foresee.
He doesn’t say anything else after that, but his eyes close. The unspoken is a clarity only he might jump to, wherever it leads- that if they could somehow use themselves as an asset to one, they might just have a chance of bargaining for their freedom. Risky, but he did promise to do everything they could; to find a way.
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Hope. It's always what they're putting their energy in. Hoping for the best out of situation, others.
"When I talked to those guys, they made it clear they knew we weren't around here because we wanted to. What the train did and we did were two separate things - 'least, that's the idea I got," he admits. What and if it'll matter is another thing. But, every little helps.
He leans back finally, sighing as he straightens the crick he was making for himself in his spine. "They were a pain though too. Inigo wanted to give them the number for that mission planet they first got evacuated from that got attacked by those weird shapes, but they wouldn't open up! Pain in the asses."
Huff.
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So much so that his expression returns more lighthearted, finding humor in where his mind travels.
“Welcome to politics.” Not that Tidus needed an introduction to that mess, knowing what Roland does about him. But Roland loves playing upon a good irony, oh yes. “They were probably ordered to keep to themselves and stick to the script. “ He chuckles. “We probably won’t solve these mysteries right away, but I feel almost glad that the ministry is showing us these things. It’s weirdly familiar to me. Putting order in the chaotic void? Speaking vaguely, giving no promises? Not answering questions, then thanking us for compliance?”
The scoff he gives is a curious mix of nostalgia and disdain.
“I know the smell of red tape and bureaucracy anywhere. Calling them that is right on the money.” Whether or not this is a reassurance of knowing how to act around those types, or conversely, how to get them riled up, Roland leaves to the imagination. Even if it’s counterintuitive for someone who used to be in a position like his to say such things; then again, he had to fight to get answers and be taken seriously too.
Or perhaps it was all coping mechanism for fears he can’t voice? It’s easy to assume an image he knows by heart than to be victim to the great and vast unknown. The answer to that eludes Roland despite his sarcasm.
“Anyway-“ He digresses, turning back to Tidus. “I think you’ve just given me an interesting idea to explore, one of these days. In the meantime, should I just try my best to convince the train to tell us more about the ministry that we haven't asked already?” A pause. “Maybe this time I’ll say pretty please.”
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"Sure. I'll try too - and we should probably talk, all of us. Figure out what we know and see what everyone's feeling." He messes with the back of his hair, imagining such a scenario, his nose crinkling some for it. "Man... I wish it felt like we could prepare. Sitting around and waiting's the worst."
And what they always do - but now there's something to actually wait for.
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It’s enough of a pull downwards that he can’t help but voice out what the would have usually kept all to himself.
“We’re trying, though. There was never any lack of trying. From anyone. But at the end of the day, doing our best is all we can do. The closest we can get to being prepared.” Gently, he takes one of the tomes and studies it well, not quite reading anything; just feeling it it in his grip. It’s funny to think that for all his documentation, he is still leagues away from an actual answer; still has nothing but wayward thoughts and conjectures put unto paper to busy his hand and remind him of what he knows best.
When Roland sets the notebook down, he’s decided on something for the time being, an act of camaraderie born out of determination than anything else. He stands from the bench and collects everything in both arms. Then, he turns to Tidus with a small smile on his face.
“Hey. Can you come with me for a sec?”
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"Huh? -- sure." He stands with the agreement, faced and waiting. Curiosity evident, but needing to ask where they're going, so long as Roland's willing to lead.
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-he chuckles, a lightness bearing ease that lifts his brows up. “Ah. Let’s take the trans…gates. The fuzzy ones.” He’s not going to bother learning how to really say that; what’s important is he knows how to use them now. And this is precisely where his feet take them, the books in his arms disappearing in a flurry of gold for the time being to free up his hands. They arrive at the nearest device and his finger goes straight for the ones connecting them to the Library.
“These really are useful. Evermore could use something like this to get around. Last I remember, we were expanding territory, and for some reason you can’t magically teleport places. Weird, right?”
Because if you can use magic in trip doors, then why can’t you use magic to travel small distances!
He digresses.
“Ready?”
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Tidus stands to the side with the offer to take them wherever Roland wants them to go on his tongue, but the man knows how to operate the machine that much; so he gives a light answer to his thought - "Buy some to take back" - before the question of readiness, giving a nod.
"Any time."
When the transgate is activated, a blue hue comes into the centre swirling like a whirlpool, the ring of the device widening for them to step through with ease. The library awaiting them as picked before any watery depths, leaving tingles across the body once they step through.
And Tidus will, waiting on Roland's lead as to where he wants to go next. Upstairs, to his favourite sections?
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They don’t walk far.
It’s a familiar sight even; Roland’s usual spot where he’s most likely found on the day to day, pouring over texts, one page to the next. Where three types of higgledies once ambushed him, made a mess of papers and things, though it’s now one of his most treasured memories. It’s most certainly not labeled as his place, or his seat, but there’s almost never a time when Roland is occupying another carrel so he confidently points to it with his eyes. He moves across the floor and softly lays down the books that reappear from his arms band, like puzzle pieces fitting snug in place. Sure enough, everything on top of its surface, from folders to pens, belong to Roland.
He meets Tidus’s eye again, one hand on his hip.
“Journals. Ideas. Theories. I may not have returned some books I was still reading back in place, so apologies for that. But they’re all arranged here.”
That’s all he says about it - about this strange trip to the library - before he walks back to the portals. He’s already tinkering with them by the time Tidus catches up behind him.
“Okay, sleeper cabins, sleeper cabins…”
Their next destination, it seemed.
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Tidus wonders if it's a reminder for that, an emphasis. And he wants to ask the meaning, but doesn't even realise that Roland's walked back to the transgate until he turns his head to look at the guy, a word on his mouth. Then he's scrambling back over, curiosity now something new - or, really, still yet to be answered.
"Where're we going?" He heard about cabins, but- "You forgot something?"
The books? Is Roland leading him around to help him take back his library books?
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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?”
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