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Inigo knows that getting a good full night's worth of sleep is pretty out of the question before they're back on the train. He's tired, exhaustion having seeped into his body and bones after everything that's happened, and yet he can't sleep.

Typical.

He'd rather do anything else to keep him occupied. Anything that feels remotely productive after that battle, trying to help people finish up things left and right the best he can, trying to minimize the time he spends thinking.

But maybe his restlessness is a good thing in this case. Because staying up means that he catches a glimpse of something familiar from a corner of his eye, leaving the camp. Seeming all alone. And there's no way Inigo is going to let that happen.

He slips out of camp as well under the veil of night. For a moment he thinks about following Roland quietly just to see where he's going. Despite Inigo's usual.. Inigo-ness, he does have the stealth to pull it off if he'd really try, especially with that tired aura hanging all over Roland.

It doesn't feel right though. He doesn't want to let Roland think he's alone out here, even if that's what Roland wishes to be.

So Inigo jogs up to him, making sure his footsteps are audible enough for Roland to notice, yet not too quick to be threatening. He just jogs the small distance until he naturally ends up at the man's side.

"I'm coming with you." Inigo doesn't ask where he's going, or why. He just keeps walking - whether Roland does so too or pauses. Like it's just natural, a given. Why would Inigo let him go anywhere by himself like this, so quietly, after that intense battle? After the crisis of Roland's sudden yet quick disappearance from a few days ago?

There's no way in hell.

Even with the crunch of heavy feet against the jungle floor, he doesn't notice Inigo coming up from behind. His reaction is slightly delayed, with a low gaze trained on the SCA; eyes dull, his mind drifting to other places, other spaces. Roland blinks like he's been reminded of where he actually is, hearing Inigo's voice cut through a thick blanket of static.

How long has he been trying to catch up to him? Roland turns his head back to the SCA, and the dot he's chasing is still so far away.

"I'm not going to work." He is quick to reassure him, skipping the formalities of asking Inigo what are you doing up? and you should go back to camp. So close are their wavelengths in this regard, intertwined like one reads the other even as Roland attempts to ease Inigo's worries as naturally one would breathe. "There's just...something I have to finish. I'll be back soon."

Though he protests, Roland has an inkling of where this conversation will lead. Not that he makes such dismissive claims to get Inigo back to the safety of camp with any actual assertiveness. Inigo is here to stay, and he is loathe to lie to himself about how much he wants to have this company...but the task that lies ahead is not set to be easy. On either of them. Roland would like to spare Inigo, if he could.

Edited 2020-12-02 16:12 (UTC)

"That's great, we can do it together."

For someone being very purposefully obstinate, and probably being pretty obvious about it considering the current circumstances, Inigo manages to make it sound so natural as he says it. As if it's just the default conclusion. If Roland has to finish something up real quick, then Inigo will finish it up together with him.

After all, last time Inigo tried to sneak out by himself, it was Roland who pulled him back. And that was before he and Tidus found Roland looking so wounded and vulnerable and terrified. How is Inigo supposed to ignore the guy sneaking out by himself after that? Despite doing a great job at not seeming worried at all now, a fear managed to crawl its way underneath Inigo's skin. What if Roland disappears off the map again? What if he gets that hurt again, that scared again, because even though the threat is gone, you can never be sure if there isn't a new one lurking around a corner somewhere, and--

Inigo tries to smother his thoughts. Not now. He's here with Roland right now, and he'll prevent anything worse from happening, no matter what the other was planning. Just keep on walking, not missing a single step.

Roland stares at Inigo for a good while before nodding weakly, barely a bob of the chin as he falls in step with him. There's little fight in Roland, and this isn't where he wants to put his energy into. If Inigo wanted to come, then he could come, and maybe that's just what Roland needs anyway. His mind has grown volatile with thoughts he can't seem to comprehend any longer, not on his own.

So they walk, side by side. He doesn't slow or attempt to walk faster. There is no delay in his gait. His eyes are fixated on the SCA, and the beep of a dot that's farther than most solar stations away from their position...one that Inigo certainly will recall, if he had checked the map before. The clearing where they find him; the place where Roland begins to descend. But why return there, of all places?

The answers will soon be revealed.

It's Roland's voice that cuts the silence between them. His arm is strangely outstretched as if beckoning Inigo. In the darkness of the jungle, his eyes are lusterless like dead stars.

"Come here. Let's take a shortcut."

His right hand manifests the hookshot. They were taking a trip across the canopies. Just as he had done, that day.

Inigo focuses on keeping up with Roland - matching his exact tempo, mostly. Trying to figure out what the other is planning on doing, even though Roland doesn't bother to mention it out loud, and Inigo in turn doesn't bother to ask. Maybe it's a good thing that Inigo doesn't try looking at the SCA to figure it out. If he knew they were returning to the exact spot where Roland had freaked out, he may have been a bit more apprehensive about letting the other return so easily.

But with the way it is now, Inigo just keeps walking towards their unknown destination.

Until Roland speaks up. Inigo stops walking, stares into the other's eyes, even with the darkness surrounding them. His own eyes aren't exactly as filled with childishly excitement as they often tend to be, but with the slight rays of light that manage to sneak through the treetops above down onto them, it's like the Brand in his eye shines faintly with resolve.

"Can it hold us both?"

His voice sounds more cautious than necessarily wary - especially since he is approaching Roland as he's saying it, giving him full consent for this plan if Roland is confident in it, even in his quiet, thoughtful state.

"...Yeah."

He nods, though his head barely moves from how controlled his motions are, how tense his limbs grow despite the urgency to finish his mystery task. But even in this state of limbo, Roland manages to exude a particular warmth he reserves only for those closest to him, cutting across the fog and the confusion that's draped over his heart since that fated moment. When Inigo is close enough, he matches him halfway and carefully tucks him against his side, arm around his midsection. The grappling gun glows faintly in the dark, as if being imbued by magic - precisely why he keeps it connected to the Arms Band, unlocking its heightened potential. Any other regular grappling gun would not have been able to support their combined weight, but this was magic and he needed to see this task to the end.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

Roland's showing only part of his profile as his eyes scan the treetops for a suitable branch to use. But the way he says these words, it almost feels like he's not exactly talking about keeping Inigo safe during their expedition through the foliage. Maybe, just maybe, he's saying it as a reassurance to himself too, for something far greater than this.

He finds a thick branch from an old tree, covered in vines. He goes for this, the whizz of the cable flying in the air the only indication he's made the shot. The hook darts past the width of the branch and using momentum he's been practicing with, wraps around snugly until the sharp ends catch bark and take root.

Roland glances at Inigo, gentle, even now. "Ready?"

"I'm ready," he says. Easily. Because Inigo is never very scared - or rather, he's never very scared of these sorts of things. Anything that could cause him bodily harm has never scared him, facing threats like that on the daily completely having numbed his sense of danger when it comes to himself.

Besides - no matter how Roland has been acting the past few days, seemingly so burdened by all of his worries, what must amount to the feeling of carrying the whole world on his back.. Inigo knows he means those words. Inigo knows that Roland would protect him, even if Inigo didn't want it. Even if he's go too far, getting himself hurt for Inigo's sake. There's no way Roland would drop him.

And yet Inigo finds himself wrapping his arms around Roland all the same. It's easy to excuse it as him clinging in return to make sure he's easier to hold, but it's also just.. comfortable. If he can't comfort the other through words, then maybe he can at least do this. He's always been good at hugs, after all.

He even rests his head against Roland as he hums again, ready. "Let's go."

At the word, the hookshot comes to life, a flash of blue before the grapple whizzes and pulls both of them into the air smoothly, as if the lift came from beneath their feet. The second they leave the ground, Roland's hold on Inigo tightens like a coil, and there's little doubt that he's concentrating not just on making a safe landing on the trees, but more that his charge won't fall. They're able to cross enough distance that indeed, it might have been more efficient to travel back this way instead of walking in the midst of a dark jungle. Whatever alien moon floats up in the sky now, granting them slivers of silver light, is much clearer by the height they're flying through.

The first branch is cleared, and he gives Inigo time to steady against his body before he scopes the next branch, a few feet away. The cable of the gun returns to its cartridge as he takes aim again, practiced and gaining momentum.

But he's not so focused that he lets go of Inigo for even a second, or remains silent all throughout.

"...Thank you." Roland says, soberly. He turns again, making eye contact, but his expression is no less strained than it was when they left camp. As if he's apologetic, but for what reason? He doesn't say. All he offers is a sincere expression of his gratitude, which he knows Inigo will understand even without more to go on. Thank you for coming. Thank you for staying.

The hookshot makes its next round, and he waits for Inigo's signal before the cycle repeats.

The feeling of flying through the air like this is different from when he uses the gravcon, which involves much shorter bursts. But that usage has prepared him to be a little less weirded out by this. And even if he didn't have that experience under his belt - it'd still be hard to feel very worried when it's Roland of all people he's traveling like this with, the person who would never let anything happen to him if he could help it.

So Inigo just keeps signalling it's fine and to keep going every time Roland pauses - after a few times he even starts to get ahead of the other, telling him it's fine and he's ready the moment they land, not wanting to delay Roland from where he's headed.

But it's not as if the boy keeps quiet between those assurances. He speaks too. "I'm not going anywhere."

It's the middle ground between a threat - don't think you can go off by yourself to be sad - and reassurance - you never have to be alone.

Because after what Inigo saw from the other a few days ago, Inigo doesn't think he can leave Roland alone so easily. He doesn't want to leave Roland alone with all the worries and hurt that have gathered in his heart, strong enough to have made him look so helplessly lost and scared.

The reassurance is just what Roland needs to hear when he finally sees the spot to stop, and Inigo will know it well too. From up above, he narrows his eyes, and makes one final hookshot to land them closer to a tree with strangely bent roots and branches, vines covering it like a blanket. It's a harder jolt between the two of them, prompting Roland to call out a brief 'Hold on tighter!' before the momentum pulls them fast, crossing the most distance in one go.

As soon as they get their bearings, and Roland's own hold on Inigo loosens somewhat, it's clearer than ever what he's staring at from down below. Bottles of emptied potions sitting by the foot of another tree; the spot where the two of them find him that day, the spot that will lead them like a compass further into the jungle. Checking his SCA, quickly with a glance, there's little mistake. Inigo will know it immediately, even in the dark - Roland is leading them back to where he disappeared and they could not reach him.

But he offers no explanation, not now. The most immediate matter was to get them back down from the tall trees, knowing that the closer they got to the crash site, the less usable branches would be around. He snakes his arm around Inigo again, but pushes him closer against him, no spaces to be seen between the two of them. From this angle, the Brand in Inigo's eye is stark even as the leaves cover them in shadow.

"We're going down now. Ready?"

It'll be a slow and steady descent, a jump to get air time, then the hookshot will safely see them to the ground.

Inigo does hold on tighter, but at the same time Roland's hold loosens the moment they're in the final tree, Inigo's does too. Because he's looking down and recognizes the spot immediately, to the point where it feels like it just makes his heart stop entirely for a moment.

He doesn't want to be here. He knows it's a childish desire, a dumb fear, but he doesn't want to be here. Inigo doesn't want to go back to this spot with Roland, knowing what it did to Roland last time. The fear in his eyes, his voice, making Inigo so endlessly worried about the man that he didn't know what to do at all in the moment other than cry, other than to let words spill across his lips without thinking, seek solace in the hold of Tidus's hand, in his fellow teenager's presence.

And while he does grab to hold back onto Roland the moment they go down, he speaks up the moment their feet touch the ground, the emotions of that day threatening to overtake him again.

"Hold on--" He's still holding onto Roland, despite there technically not being any reason for it anymore now. They're done with the hookshot for the time being, after all. But it's like Inigo is worried that the moment he lets go of the other, Roland will just revert right back into the state they found him in that day.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" Will you be able to handle it?

"Yes."

He answers without hesitation. And the hold Inigo keeps is well-received, as Roland's own arm around him doesn't loosen, not even for a minute. But he does take this moment to grant them some space, if only because Roland wants Inigo to see his eyes. To see his face. He wants him to know why they had to come back. Why Roland wouldn't have allowed himself to leave this planet without doing this first.

"Inigo." Roland's voice is certain. He had to keep moving forward. He couldn't falter. Not yet, not without finishing the deed. His hold on Inigo grows tighter still, like a plea to hear him beyond his words. "Where we're about to go..." His throat bobs. "It's not going to be pleasant. But I have to do this because if I don't, no one else will." Roland is convinced the other four in that trip held different convictions about what they all witnessed, and he might just be the only man to feel that this had to be done; a sense of closure not just for her, but for Roland too. He's trapped in the thick of his own spiraling mind, even now with Inigo as his beacon of light. The darkness is a fog that has blanketed him since that day, and it has only grown stronger since.

"Knowing that...do you still want to come with me?" He finally says, and there was little doubt that should Inigo want to turn back and leave, Roland wouldn't have thought any less of him. But at the same time, Roland remembers all the things Inigo has told him; a child of war, a child forced to grow up with a sword in his hand and survival on the agenda. He's had to kill people turned risen from Grima, and that meant...that meant maybe he had to complete that circle too. So Roland knows he wasn't protecting Inigo from anything. This could be nothing for him, in fact.

Maybe that's why a part of him wishes Inigo will stay. Maybe Roland knows deep down, he really would have hated to do this alone.

"Of course I do." Roland could have told him just about anything right now, and Inigo would have given him the same answer. Unwavering. His hesitation from a moment ago had nothing to do with himself, after all. There are far scarier things he has done than merely just going out into the jungle together with his father, than traveling back to the spot where all the misery born from this mission had begun.

No, the hesitation is only for Roland's sake. Because Inigo is so, so worried about him. A worry that has sunk down straight into his bones ever since that day.

"Leaving you alone would be the worst possible thing to do right now." And he's not afraid to voice that worry out loud like this. Maybe to make Roland realise that it's okay. That it's alright to ask for his company, rather than keep giving Inigo chances to stop, to turn back, over and over and over. That even if Roland said Inigo, please stay with me no matter what, Inigo's answer would still be an unwavering yes.

He sucks in a breath, making sure to meet Roland's gaze, no matter whether or not the other can hold it.

"I'm not afraid, father. I'm just worried for you."

"..."

He doesn't know what else to say to that. It's his fault for making Inigo worry. It's his fault that the ministry might be on to them because he left messages in bottles, idiotic sentiment that he didn't mean to jeopardize their entire well-being. The guilt that affronts Roland is so strong that he can't say a word, paralyzed from the feeling. It's the same kind that returns night after night, remembering the number of lives - millions upon millions - sacrificed in nuclear fire all because he failed, somewhere along the way. Here, a mirror image though of a smaller scale. He has to shake it off, he has to continue to move forward as he had promised himself a long time ago...but it's getting harder and harder to do so. The weight is pulling him down. He's beginning to see a darkness he had not glimpsed at before.

He has never been more grateful for Inigo's constant presence. For always choosing to stay by his side. For reading him so well even though he's prided himself on an unreadable face. Inigo is right. This was not the time to have Roland wander by his lonesome, despite how much he desires to go by himself.

Roland swallows down his silence and nods to Inigo heavily, before moving with a renewed sense of purpose to the designated spot. He perks his ears up for any wayward robots that might have had the night shift, but moreso for the crunch of his companion's footsteps that follow sure and steady. They have since passed the clearing where Tidus and Inigo find Roland, and are now approaching the beginning of the ping where the adventure first began...and Inigo will only need to glance up at the trees to see more moonlight flooding their senses. Canopies of trees, branches bent and broken, leading far deeper into the jungle thicket than Inigo might have expected. Roland only stops for a moment to tilt his head up at the night sky revealed by an empty patch of ruined flora, closing his eyes, before turning back and waiting on Inigo so they can continue the walk.

It wouldn't be much longer, now. The path of destruction led to the task at hand.

Edited 2020-12-21 18:46 (UTC)

The jungle is different like this.

It's not the first time Inigo sees it darker than during the day. With him being the way he is, he's definitely pushed the time he was supposed to go back to camp multiple times under the guise of doing one thing more, and then another, and then another. He's seen it like this before.

But tonight it feels different. Maybe it's the atmosphere making everything seem a bit darker. Maybe Roland's silence is making the other sounds and sights around them only more apparent.

But it feels lonely under this moonlight.

And as if sensing that feeling, there's a light shining from Inigo's chest, and then Jumblie being held up by his arms a moment later. Roland may not notice it at first, if he's trusting the sound of Inigo's footsteps rather than the sight of him, but once he does look back when he's waiting for Inigo, he'll doubtlessly see the little sunshine creature in his arms.

Inigo doesn't say anything. Even as he briefly stops by Roland's side. The only thing that happens is that Jumblie climbs out of his arms, instead climbing up on Roland's shoulder to sit there. She also doesn't make a sound. Maybe it's just that Inigo and her silently agreed that Roland needs a bit more of her presence right now.

He keeps walking, this time not needing Roland's guidance to know where they're going. The destruction truly is like a path that leads them.

Roland's only warning of Jumblie's light comes from a flash that momentarily shocks him, bright and warm in his periphery. Higgledies barely weight a thing, but true to what they are, when they choose you, when they are asked to help, it is near impossible to ignore their presence. And hers is one he is familiar with; she tilts her head resembling the sun from side to side, as if beckoning him to breathe, to trust that if he falls too far into the shadows, Jumblie can save him. Inigo can reach out, if Roland asks, if he cries out to him.

His mouth quirks up by the corner in acknowledgment of the gesture Inigo grants him, how it mimics what Roland wished for when he gave him the higgledy in the first place. A source of joy; of pure light. Roland raises a finger to touch her cheek, and she coos quietly, a sound that's barely there but still he catches it close to his ear, reverberating deep within. But Inigo is walking ahead of him now, and there is no time to waste even with the renewed spirit lent for the moment. So he walks, one step forward, roles suddenly reversed. Inigo leads him, knows when to glance up at the trees that carve out the destination. The jungle curves in grotesque ways, the struggle of the fallen one clear even in the hush of moonlight filtering through thick vine and bark.

He continues to tickle Jumblie lightly with one finger wagging up and down, but the rest of him halts, heavy footsteps suddenly made silent.

"Wait." Roland says, a coarseness to his throat as if he had not used his voice in a while. Perhaps that's more true than he might realize, staring ahead of Inigo and crossing the distance to stand side-by-side. Jumblie stands on his shoulder, knowing that now her light would be when Roland needed it the most.

Roland doesn't need to point to it either. They arrive in a battlefield. Every step reveals scorched earth where lasers land and miss their moving targets; trees that stand surrounding them, wooden guardians as a shield to the rest of the world marked by blackened burned holes and signs of weapons drawn, slashed and making a mess. Littered across the ground, robots destroyed, parts of them mauled and sliced and torn apart. A giant teraforming robot lays some ways away, a monument of victory. He remembers the day to the minute. His legs move on their own, and he knows Inigo will come with him.

"We're here."

That is all Roland says, but for the most part, where he stops is nothing but an empty spot, occupied only by a fallen log of a giant tree...

...and a darker than usual shape, a blob by the base of the log, almost as pitch black as the night itself. This is the sight Roland can't tear his eyes away from, and his finger finally stops petting Jumblie on his shoulder.

The moment Roland tells him to wait, Inigo does. He knows it's got to already be tough enough out here for Roland, even with Jumblie's help. The least he can do is make sure he isn't doing anything that worries the other, like wandering straight into something Roland wouldn't want him near.

So he stands there, waiting for Roland to catch up with him.

Staring at what's ahead without any particular expression on his face. It's just.. this is so familiar. Even with the jungle and the robots, things he had never seen before the train happened to him, the general sight is too familiar. Battle. Destruction. Just how many times has Inigo seen this at this point? Enough to tell himself he's numb to it.

Or just pretend like he is.

This must be where Roland watched that person they found die. Slowly, through knowledge of that and knowledge of what Roland is like, Inigo can imagine what the other is about to do. (The only difference being that there's no body to bury, which is exactly what Inigo thought Roland was going to do - did someone beat them here? Can Inigo just not spot it in the middle of this darkness?)

If he's worried about anything in this situation, it's making things worse for Roland. So he doesn't speak up, not right away. It's only when he realises staying quiet would probably make the man even more worried that Inigo speaks.

"Father." His voice doesn't betray even the slightest bit of emotion either. Which may be rare - compared to what Roland is used to from the boy - but it's actually something he's really good at. Something he's done so often, exactly in these kinds of situations. It makes even Jumblie go quiet for a moment on Roland's shoulder. "Tell me what I can do to help."

With whatever it is that Roland wanted to do. Inigo can help. He doesn't mind - whatever it is, he's sure he can carry it, mentally speaking.

In time, Roland will come to realize that what he asked of Inigo was selfish. In time, Roland will understand that Inigo was just a child when he was forced into a hellscape where man against man are pitted against each other under the influence of an evil so great, Inigo had to grow up decades beyond his time. Inigo, having to fight those who loved. Forced to lead a life that led to his own erasure - that's the Inigo of the future, now. If only Roland were stronger. If only he could have turned him down.

But tonight, there is no room for him to doubt that Inigo knew exactly what he was doing. He looks too comfortable walking around like this, taking such confidence from a scene that inspired none of it, should not give him strength. It is a testament of both his history and his growth; but Roland is scared of what to acknowledge first. That Inigo, his sweet, kind, loving, generous one, cutting a stark figure in the darkness as if he's lived there all along. That it was Inigo to guide him here. Roland swallows thick, taking Jumblie by the breadth of her body and setting her down gently on the ground. She looks up at him, as if the perfect reflection of Inigo's own request of him; tell me what I can do to help. Her light is bright, so so bright, and he wonders if Jumblie will know where to cast her rays even if they no longer share a bond.

The spot is calling to him. Roland's features grow sallow and weary when he turns to Inigo, but he's already moving his arms to take the bag slung across his shoulder, not even bothering to keep anything in the hammerspace. One day, he will apologize for making Inigo go through this again. One day, he will make amends to them all. For everything he's done.

One day.

"Look for stones. Big. Small. Any you can find." He walks in reverence to the designated splotch, and now up close with Jumblie following his steps, the light reveals what needs not to be said out loud; the stench of dried and rotting blood remains as an almost permanent stain on the ground. He keeps his eyes focused on it as the bag drops to the side, its zipper half-opened. Roland moves faster and faster now, as if invigorated by the ghastly sight. The fallen log that pinned her legs - that had to go. He takes off the first layer of his outerwear and begins to push with the strength of his legs first, thighs working on overtime, until it begins to budge.

It's enough physical labor to distract him from the heavy words that spill out of his lips.

"We're going to make a funeral mound."

Edited 2020-12-25 19:39 (UTC)

So Inigo was right as to why exactly Roland came here. It's no surprise, really. After all, Roland wouldn't be sneaking out by himself at night if what he was going to do was something he'd want other people to be present for. No, this is exactly the sort of thing he'd push others away over to take the duty entirely upon his own shoulders. Exactly the sort of thing Roland would feel like he had to do, like it was his responsibility, even though he wasn't the only one who encountered that person out here between the trees.

Isn't that just exactly what Roland is like? Compassionate to a fault. Responsible to a fault.

Inigo is glad he followed him, doesn't even want to think about what might have happened if Roland was out here by himself. This is the kind of thing Inigo is used to, but Roland? Judging from what he heard about both of the worlds Roland is used to, neither sounds like the kind of place where you'd have to do this very often.

So he knows he has to pick some slack here even more. It's why the boy immediately goes to work. There's no whining or complaining in the slightest as he starts looking across the jungle floor for rocks, carrying them over to where Roland is working, not saying a word even over the big ones that are heavy to carry. There are no tears.

- I've done this so many times now, I barely feel anything at all. -

Words he's spoken before, the reminder that Inigo knows how to deal with this, knows how to try and turn off his much too loving heart. The only way to get by while arguing with the others back home about how they had to burn the bodies of the villagers who died just to prevent them from becoming Risen. But does Roland know how to do it? How badly must his father be hurting right now, even if he's trying hard to not let it show?

Inigo just keeps bringing over rocks, the pile of them slowly growing, but in his heart he encourages Jumblie to stay with Roland, to do anything she can for him, even if it's just providing company, or some lightness - literal or metaphorical.

And so she does. Even though it's not like it'll help a thing, Jumblie also pushes against the log with her tiny, stumpy arms. If not just for the adorable sight, or just to give Roland the feeling and the knowledge that he's not alone in it.

Roland pauses as the log moves only by the inch, wasting more energy and time than he's actually making progress on. The sight of Jumblie moving about, pushing in place, does remind him that there are better ways to go about this. The smile that graces his stony look breaks the monotony of having to repeat the same thought over and over again; that no one else from that group would have done this, already too preoccupied with the messages Halo left behind rather than thinking of the person herself. He doesn't blame them for it. He won't ask them to return here. Roland however, is cut from a cloth more traditional. You don't just hold someone's hand as they die and not think of honoring them, their last wish. You can't just fall asleep and not do your part.

And doesn't she deserve it? The woman who thought it pertinent to leave behind one last thing for whoever finds her, one last clue to the puzzle, but cushioning it with her desire to live. They all had that in common, whether or not they could admit it to themselves. And more than that, Halo wanting to be remembered.

No one else would know. She had been erased from the void's narrative, no matter how in love she was with the chaos. Halo is gone and her people too. Her planet existing only as her final words are recorded in an SCA filled with opera and hard rock. It's hurting Roland in places no one will ever understand. The heaviness that can consume you when you give your entire being to loving your nation, then having it taken from you without anyone to remember it was ever there at all. ~~Then, being responsible for its downfall because you failed -~~

"Light up a path, Jumblie."

He whispers to her, barely audible as wind from open patches above the treetops swoops in to grant them cool air. The higgledy makes a cute pose that might not be appropriate for the moment, but he smiles at her regardless, knowing Inigo is telling her to stay. To make him happy even now. She skips over to the front of the log, and in tandem, guides Roland as he kicks the log further and further out. Jumblie splits into a couple more of her little ones to form a pathway of light, the log following it dutifully, before enough space can be granted for the said mound.

He stops and looks behind him. Then, he meets Inigo's gaze just as he sets down another stone on the pile. Roland can't even tell him what happened to her body. It's too soon. He doesn't know what words to borrow, where to get it from. He's not over trying to remind himself that Inigo won't be the same, he won't let him suffer this fate worse than actually dying, this is disappearing.

Roland breathes in heavy and returns to the higgledies, nodding once in silent gratitude. Wordlessly, he goes to the exact same spot he knelt in days before, where he bears witness to her life once shining bright, and now, no longer. His hands try to smoothen out the ground, uncovering even darker stained patches of blood as her legs give out despite Koumyou's assistance. That it was all fruitless to begin with. Roland has reached a state of total stoicism, just wanting to clean the area and get it over with.

This was his living nightmare, after all. Burying them. His people. His country. The father burying his child. Except there are never any bodies left for him to hold. They all disappear, whether in light, or in ash.

Roland fails to realize his hands are in slight tremble. And that there is no more grass, leaves, or vines left to clear out.

Edited 2020-12-27 13:41 (UTC)

Even here, in the dark, it's hard to not see how Roland's hands are trembling.

How everything about him is trembling, really. How utterly shaken up the man is by this entire experience. It's that fact that makes it so very clear to Inigo. Roland isn't used to this. This isn't the sort of thing he had to do. (And isn't that only logical? Most people wouldn't have to. Most people would never end up in this kind of situation to begin with.)

Inigo silently kneels down next to Roland, putting his hands on top of the man's. Trying to force them to still, or at least feel the steadying presence of Inigo's calm hands against his own.

Roland shouldn't have to do this. Someone who is used to do this should do it. Someone who's already been ruined in the first place.

"Father." He says at first, and then, more insistently, "Roland."

Usually it goes the other way around. Him starting out with the other's name, only to resort to using the more affectionate way of calling him 'father' to draw his attention. But this situation isn't about that. It isn't about Inigo's usual softness. He's already forced it deep down.

He nudges the hands as if to move them out of the way.

"It's alright. Step back." It's not quite a command or an order, since Inigo wouldn't do that to Roland of all people, but it still sounds like he doesn't want to argue about this. Like he's sure about this. "Just tell me how exactly you wanted to do it. I'll do it."

This is nothing to him, after all. He can't even see a body right now. How bad can a funeral mound be then? It doesn't compare to the sheer amount of people he's killed with his own hands, the blood he's had on his hands. The bodies he had to dispose of. This is where Inigo's meant to be. What he's meant to do. It's a cross he can easily carry for someone as important to him as his own adoptive father.

It's noticable about him too. There's no hesitation, no shyness. There's nothing about this what usually makes Inigo Inigo. Even his eyes are just filled with nothing but hard conviction.

He freezes for a second, as if he had just been awoken from a nightmare. Suddenly things clear up, and he can hear the vibrations in the wind, the jungle insects stirring awake in the nighttime, with Inigo's hands on his. Except - except things aren't quite what they are. There's a frost that settles between them, chilling him upon hearing Inigo's voice cut through to the heart of the matter. Roland's breath is caught in his throat. Daring to look up at those eyes, once gentle and kind, now hardened and ready to dive into hell itself.

He stares at the outline of Inigo's face, prominent features made sharper, older in the peak of moonlight. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like what he sees; what Inigo morphs into. But this was another face he needed to see, wasn't it? Roland has gotten so used to Inigo, his adopted, someone to save, someone to protect, that he can't quite reconcile the Inigo who needed to survive. Inigo, having to bury friends and foe alike every single day, worse in Ylisse because he probably had actual bodies to take to the soil.

The guilt in his heart is only compounded by this sight. Roland continues to disappoint himself, his weakness, succumbing to feelings that made him unreliable. It's the feeling he hates the most. And now look what his failings have brought them to tonight - can't even play a role of his own making, forcing Inigo to do a job he set out to do.

He nods only once, and stands. Jumblie glances a look between the two of them, and seems to decide to wait for Inigo's next order. Meanwhile, Roland faces the direction of his discarded bag and makes his way over, throwing his voice out as he moves.

"Clear out all the leaves and twigs so we can make a proper foundation. Three big stones around a couple of small ones should do it. And an outline around the area." He doesn't need to point out which particular area, but as he bends his knees and rummages through the duffel, Roland pauses for a second to add one last thing.

"...Leave half for me."

He can't. He can't make him do it even if he's used to it. He just can't.

"Please."

Relief settles in his heart the moment he notices Roland standing up. Inigo thought the other would put up more of a protest about this, knowing how protective Roland is of him - and it's not like he wants to fight. Not with Roland, not ever, but especially not now, when they're all alone in the dark jungle, when Roland is facing the demons of that other day, the day when he went off the radar and returned with a darkness in his eyes unlike anything Inigo had seen before.

So he easily follows the instructions. The man already cleared out most of the area, Inigo notices, so he stands up to drag the rocks he gathered over towards the spot, putting them down in the way Roland explained to him.

Inigo glances off to the side, only to see Jumblie looking back at him - if anyone can sense what's going on in his heart right now, it's her. And he knows it. It's why he gives her a very small apologetic smile, knowing Roland won't see it anyway with the way his back is turned towards him. He's half-tempted to ask her to go back inside of him, but she hops closer before he can do so, as if she's determined to at least let her light illuminate his work.

And Inigo silently accepts that.

He thought he was going to do this all silently, honestly, until Roland speaks up.

It makes him pause for a moment, but then he moves a few more rocks, done with the big ones, starting to add the smaller ones around.

"It's alright. I don't mind this." And indeed, there is nothing in his tone to suggest he minds it. Mostly since right now there is very little in his tone in general. It's just calm, a bit lower than usually. An odd tightness around the very edges.

He finishes putting down those stones, and it's then that he sucks in a breath and looks back, over at Roland. Probably knowing the other won't be able to accept just those words, not under these circumstances.

".. It's hard for you, father. I could see it, and that's.. that's just normal." It's how any regular person would act upon having to do something like this, Inigo thinks. "But it's not for me. That's why I can carry this burden for you. I'm just glad to be able to do something for you, even if it's in this way."

"...Please." He asks again. "I have to honor her memory too."

He stands, holding something in both hands. He shakes his head, determined even when Inigo can't see his eyes, his face. The lilt in his response is so weighted, it could pull both of them down into a crashing orbit. He's begging, he doesn't want this. He doesn't want Inigo to lift a burden that Roland took on willingly, it isn't right. He's already done so much in his short life, this doesn't have to be another burial Inigo makes on his own. Not when Roland is the one who asked, who wanted this.

If it's hard on him, it's only because Halo's face is easily replaceable; in one minute, it's her, in the next, it's Inigo disappearing because the train is destroyed and he's at the foot of the chaos. Roland hasn't processed it totally, hasn't stayed up enough chasing the shadows that lead to this violent end. For now, all he can do is provide peace to a soul departed from the void, wherever such souls should go after void crafts can no longer save them from death. But more than that, it's in the final wish to make sure she's not erased completely. That if anyone else should come here, in this very spot where she once lay, more void missionaries might think to come and remember her too.

He crosses the distance again, kneeling on the opposite side of the mound forming from rock and ground. The item from the bag is revealed in open view as it lays beside his knees - two thin branches tied up in twine to form a cross, or maybe just an 'x' to mark the spot, with a third spike down the middle ready to dig deep into the earth. Face down, a wooden makeshift plaque obviously fashioned from old bits and pieces found in solar stations and jungle flora littered every which way...but the writing is yet unclear, hidden from sight.

Without another word, Roland helps Inigo with the rocks closest to his person, arranging the upper half of the mound in a similar fashion. His hands are not shaking from the inside, not anymore, not when he glances up at Inigo from time to time, as if daring an apology that will never his lips. Not now, when they're in the throes of their own little bubbles of misery.

Inigo doesn't argue back. Maybe he knows it'd just be a futile endeavour when Roland sounds like this. When Inigo already knows he's not going to back down, no matter what - in his opinion, rather logical - arguments Inigo puts forth.

So he just lets Roland join in again as they silently work on getting the rest of the rocks into formation. Even though it isn't the best idea, even though it just makes Inigo worry what kind of dark clouds must be passing through the other's mind. He's never been good at this. Inigo could go through hell and back by himself and not complain a single moment, but the instant he had someone else by his side throughout all of it, he'd just worry about them.

.. It's the same as back then. In Irivar. If Reno had just beaten him up, then he probably wouldn't have cared much. But it had been the fact that Roland was right there in the fight with him that filled Inigo's heart with worry for his wellbeing.

Although this time, it's not Roland's physical health that's on the line. Instead it's his mental health. His emotions. How much more can a soul like Roland's bear, one that has already had to face the death of a nation?

It's hard to tell whether or not Inigo notices any of the glances Roland is throwing his way. Every time the man looks over, Inigo seems entirely consumed by the act of building the mound, not looking up from the rocks he's picking up and putting down at all.

He only speaks up when they're all out of rocks.

"I think this part is done like this."

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