adregem | 000 - voidtreckerexpress Universal Contact Post

It’s an endearing sort of reminder to Roland that Tidus is truly more forthcoming about these things than Roland ever will be, and it’s good that he’s around energy like this. The brighter, the better; reminding him of what it was like back then, when orbiting around the sun would never burn or blind. He chuckles before speaking, a nonchalant shrug to accompany his words.

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.”

Edited 2021-10-24 03:37 (UTC)

I haven't forgotten to play my part. Words that echo what's bene said before. Tidus gives a slow shake of his head, a scoff this time that's more mirthful, if light.

"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."

“Annoying’s right. Add frustrating in there too.”

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?”

Tidus does ease to the reassurance. Internally, if not immediately outwardly, but some of his own apprehension does ebb from his shoulders. But he doesn't get lost in relief, as Roland asks his question, and Tidus gives a slow single shake of his head.

"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."

“Well, they found the train before already. Once, when they boarded for the first time and took a couple of people with them to interview.” Though if his recollection is to be trusted, Curufin and the others had to reassure them since it hadn’t been established that this was all a ruse not of their own making. “So I guess I’m not that surprised. Besides, if Anan could do that to the train, it’s only natural to assume the ministry can do it too.” And more, he implies, drifting off.

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.

Ugh. Did they do it? Didn't they? They just never knew anything, and even a danger like the Ministry was cautiously optimistic in Tidus's eyes than not. He lingers on the annoyance that resurfaces again for their predicament: contact with the outside, but contact with a people they weren't sure how to trust.

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."

“Not a bad idea,” Roland says, amenable. “Better than anything I could have come up with right now.”

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?

"What did it say exactly?" He remembers about wanting the lost crew to be found, but the ministry- "I know it warned that we'll be put on trial and the train'll be put out of business, but am I missing anything? Was else got said?"

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."

“Nothing that detailed.” He shakes his head, then lifts a finger to his chin. “If I remember right, I asked it why it keeps avoiding the ministry if it believes it’s operating under standard void craft procedure.” His hand then makes a gesture, to point. “It’s answer was the same as Captain Halo’s- that they have no recollection of its existence, and that it’s been registered rogue with no data to back up the claim that we’re a mission craft.”

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.

"S'long as the Ministry sees it that way." That they're needed, that they could see them as working together better than just being separate. To have faith - they need people who'll have faith in them and not look in colours of black or white, or rules and that nonsense.

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.

It wasn’t a definitive answer to Roland’s worries, but it was a start. It was enough that they weren’t branded the same as outright fugitives…though their inaction on the matter was questionable regardless. With enough time, the ministry could always prove him wrong of course, though the mention of Inigo’s encounter with them draws upon a lifetime of experience in a way even Roland did not expect.

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.”

Edited 2021-10-28 16:31 (UTC)

The quip and agreement for his assessment gets a scoff out of Tidus anyway, a point of humour that's agreeable than not. Continues to linger with plans of engaging the train, that neither of them are really optimistic for, but do out of habit.

"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.

It’s a sentiment easily and readily echoed. He takes a look at all his books, his notes, everything he could dig up in the short amount of time he’s had since the train returned to cruising speed, and the worry grows deeper, taking root in his heart.

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?”

Edited 2021-10-30 14:22 (UTC)

Roland's right. Trying is all they do, over and over. Try, hope and wait, left to the whims of others to help them produce any real results. Items gathered in Roland's arms, Tidus considers his own next move - halted when the man then speaks, and Tidus looks up at him proper.

"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.

He nods and leads the way without missing a step, but then-

-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?”

'Transgates', 'the fuzzy ones'. Tidus recalls why Roland's calling them that, wished he'd picked a better word to hear it brought up again, but nevermind. The nearest gate takes them to games (which Tidus would be able to tell Roland, if he didn't know himself - Tidus likes himself some time in the games car), quiet with people elsewhere, likely heading to the dining car or their own rooms.

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?

“Here.”

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.

Edited 2021-10-30 16:55 (UTC)

The shelving encompasses Roland, all that he is. A man that never switches off, always has to get out his thought on this and that, every note and thought making their mark. If Roland was to leave, he wouldn't be erased from the train - not in here anyway. We're always trying, as he'd said.

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?

“2C. Do you remember where I’m staying?”

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?”

Edited 2021-10-31 09:05 (UTC)

The answer isn't the real one Tidus was looking for, but neither was his question really what he was asking. He takes it though, goes along with Roland to find out the real answer, to where this really leads - to what point Roland is trying to make.

But that's already been answered, in truth. From the library, to now the room that Roland shows. Tidus lingers on the view of the robot, the memories in them; the reminder of the space shared by four people striking whenever he sees it, for the space he gets away with, with Inigo. That peek of personality that comes through even by clean and simplicity of a tidied space.

It's neither concern nor confusion that Tidus regards Roland with, some semblance of understanding. But he can't help joke, as fond as it is:

"Planning on going somewhere?"

You always ready to?

“Hah. I wish. I’d take you all with me, if I could.”

Evermore could always use more friendly faces, after all. And though Roland chuckles in response, nothing about his actions or his words points to saying something just because. He very quickly shifts his tone, quiet but certain, eyes fixed on parts of the room where he feels like he can see the phantoms of past missions; of ghosts that have come and gone, or memories that have been cemented through time in the void.

Oh, yes. The purpose of this was quite clear, but bears repeating nevertheless. At least, it seemed he and Tidus continued to stay on the same page when it came down to the wire.

“…We’re at a disadvantage, whichever way we spin it. And the only surefire contingency I can ever really plan for is myself.” He inhales deeply. “The ministry is slowly showing us that it can do a lot more than it’s letting on. We don’t know what’ll surprise us next. Maybe it’ll be my turn to get a special interview with them. Maybe I won’t come back the same. I don’t know.”

Roland shakes his head. There is no fear or apprehension to be had, despite what passes his lips. Instead, there is peace. Serenity. Or, perhaps it’s plainer than that; acceptance, one he is accustomed to by now.

“When I was in the other world, helping Evan build his new kingdom, I was confident I could help him through his struggles. They were mine, once upon a time, too. But here? It’s different. This isn’t a budding nation looking for a foothold. This isn’t a country that needs a king, or a president. But it needs talented, dedicated folks nonetheless. As for me, I’m best when I play to my strengths. This is one big part of it-“ Roland’s hand makes for a gesture to the space before them, to his bed, to his notes and journals and things.

“-I’ve always lived life transparent. It was part of the job to be an open book, and to stand by the truth. So here I am, some…million void miles away from home, still trying to make a difference so I can save as many of you as I can. In what little way, I can.”

Finally, his eyes are able to meet Tidus’s gaze staunchly and sure.

“Everything I’ve shown you is free for the taking. It’s communal property now. If something happens to the guy behind the books, take what’s been written and share it with the rest. They’re no ramblings of a mad genius, but they’re a start.” They could help. In the end, that’s all I really want to do.

And as if he isn’t already preaching to the choir, he has to add, like a plea from one honest guy to the next; from one friend to another.

“Please.”

It's like facing the concerns that have been dragging themselves through Tidus's body since arriving back on the train. Nevermind the part of being packed in like sardines, but everything, even before that; coming back to face with the inspectors, interviews given, the unknown way the ministry operates, the information given and trades allowed.

This is what they've been waiting for, but even so, Tidus has no idea how to look forward with confidence or certainty. He doesn't feel he can. Only, he has to - it's a reality that has to be faced, no matter how ready he is.

And looking at Roland now, at any other time, he'd chalk the man's concerns up to worrying too much. But there's a severity, a weight under the surface, and Tidus's lips pinch as his brows knot along with it, and he wants to reassure it. The both of them, for the unknown coming next.

"Hey, you know I'll keep trying. You too, alright? I... I'll add to it, if you think it's a good idea. Stuff I remember. I'm no fancy writer, but- maybe it doesn't matter who we are. Just what we want, and what we've gotta do to help it happen."

Nevermind that he's no longer a sports star, no longer a guardian, a guy stuck in between life and death with no way of moving forward.

"We won't leave nothing behind." And there's more he wants to say, but his thoughts pull on something else, his gaze shifting away, head bowing, as he then admits after a long beat. "...Those guys. They took the radio and added a way for us to contact them. Just a signal," he clarifies. "But-- they said they'll try and reach us through it, if the train won't let them message us."

He tries to read through this, knows the choreographed hesitations well enough that Roland can’t ignore it this time. Nevermind that his interest is piqued with the radio tinkered with; a way to ask for help, or at least, to receive some when the time comes. (Nevermind, too, that even the idea of help is beyond their agency, that they have to wait to be contacted first.)

“Of course I’ll keep trying. Never said I’d stop.” I never will. But that’s why-

-a hand, serious and warm, rests upon Tidus’s shoulder. The dip in Roland’s brow speaks volumes.

“Please, Tidus. Promise me.”

Don’t let this be for nothing.

"I promise!" It's quick, flustered to a degree; not wanting to be misunderstood, lips slightly parted as he works his brain around Roland's request, the hand on his shoulder.

"That's what I mean - I won't let the info go away. Yours or mine, or anything we learn. We'll put it all down, stick it in the library. On paper, or on a tablet." A promise, reassurance, though it wasn't clear the first time round. Tidus looks at Roland with the awkwardness of a guy not used to such a weight or responsibility, not sure what to do with it, but trying his best.

"But you have to promise the same too, alright? Any one of us can disappear. We'll let people know - we won't let anything disappear if we do."

And he returns the gesture, reaching out to pat Roland on the arm.

"Okay?"

The heaviness in his shoulders melt instantly. Roland smiles, the curve of his mouth finally reaching his eyes. Then, he lets go.

“Thank you, pro. That means a lot to me.”

For whatever awkwardness Tidus affords Roland to witness, Roland rewards it with quiet confidence for both of their sakes. And while it was more of his liege’s place to inspire with flowery words and praises, Roland tries to take a page out of the young king’s book. There seemed no better time.

“We’ll get it done. You and I both know that nothing is impossible when people from all walks of life work together, side by side.”

(It still sounds better out of Evan’s mouth than his.)

The master of shoving issues aside in an instant returns to full force, gesturing for them to walk out of the cabin and back into the void train’s interior hallway. As if nothing ever happened, as if they had no pact seconds ago, Roland is back to his usual countenance, arms over his chest, chucking sensibly with a hint of humor.

“Say, if you meant what you said, I should get you something. You ever write with a fountain pen before?” There’s no more on his agenda, so Roland merely wanders where their feet take them, one direction or another. It no longer mattered. “I could add it to my list. If it helps any, I am seriously considering studying void law. If we do end up towed and put to trial, it’s good to have an experienced lawyer to help us get away clean. As if this old thing’s going to stick it’s neck out for us, heh.”

Edited 2021-11-01 17:07 (UTC)

000 - voidtreckerexpress Universal Contact Post

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