flatteries: (alone until i get home)
a man for flowers ✿ ( INIGO ) ([personal profile] flatteries) wrote2020-08-30 08:58 pm

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leave a comment here, mostly for [community profile] voidtreckerexpress in-game shenanigans but anything else will be appropriately labeled.
adregem: (we have to assume the worst.)

[personal profile] adregem 2021-01-05 05:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"Dream big. Travel far. She said that too. Heh. Wise words, if not a little corny."

Roland cracks a small smile, dark humor more than anything. It's an awfully quiet night in the jungle of Nion, whereas his days were filled with endless static and the noise that rang in his ears when communications came crashing down and all they could pick up was her distress call. He realizes Inigo might have realized that. With both of them, Tidus too and the way Roland had snubbed his efforts to heal him, even after they seemed to be looking for him after everything was over...It isn't a moment that ages well for Roland, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He hates that he lost his composure. Hates that for a rare moment in his life, he was so shaken that he forgot who he is, that staying calm must be the priority at all times. Especially in times of trouble.

But the look they gave him. Tidus was hurt. Inigo was confused. That was the worst of them all. He treated them so poorly, for what? Caring?

They must have been trying to get in touch with him then, but like the other four in his party, couldn't. And all he could do was rebuke them, rebuff them like a fool.

Roland's profile comes into Inigo's view, his head angled such that he could see him partially, even with higgledy light from beneath. There's a sense of shame that washes over him, one that he doesn't try to hide.

"I'm sorry. For what I did."

Not this, not digging up another grave, though it warrants an apology all the same. Roland is speaking from the lens of another notch in time, and it's clear he's not talking about the proverbial burial of a body that isn't even there anymore.

"I'm sorry that I behaved poorly, the day you and Tidus found me." The formality is a mask he wears expertly - it's easy to fall back into it when guilt threatens to swallow him whole once again. "I won't let it happen again. I swear to you."
adregem: (the weight of the crown is heavy indeed.)

[personal profile] adregem 2021-01-07 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
The apology to Tidus is long overdue. Roland doesn't need to be told twice either; it's a thought that's lingered in his head the first moment he had to himself. The both of them needed to know that he didn't want it. He didn't want to react the way that he did, and it felt like an out of body experience where he knew the right thing to do, the right words to say, but couldn't. His body refused. His mind willed it, but his heart had the final say. The fear, the adrenaline rush, the panic that he's never experienced at its fullest extent, not for a while, not in a long time.

He's learning, even at his age. Or at his current disposition. Whatever or whoever he's becoming in the void, all Roland knows is he doesn't get infinite chances no matter what the void crafts might grant them. He has a third chance at a life well-lived, so he can't make impulsive decisions like that again. Especially at the cost of seeing someone get hurt, the way he did to them. The two who think of him more often than he's ever expected anyone to; the two who give him gifts and call him names and confide in him when they can.

The two of them who remind him that there are things to live for apart from the job or the work he's chained himself to, regardless of place or time.

But this was not so much a moment of compounding guilt as it was an offering of mutual comfort. Roland's own feelings slowly simmer down, seeing the mound completed; a peace that he had hoped would come, does. And it's Inigo's words which give him a boost, a jolt back into life. It could have been a knee jerk reaction, the words ready to catapult back to Inigo, but he takes his time instead. He turns around fully, catching that stare, holding this vision to memory.

It's unnatural. He need only to see it from behind closed lids; a boy this young, handsome and kind, forcing himself to fight every day in a battlefield that was brought about by circumstance of birth and curse. Who has given his entire being to slaying a beast that would erase him from his own narrative. It's unnatural, it's unfair. Roland won't have it.

He shakes his head without breaking gaze, though for once, he withholds himself from taking a step forward to bridge the distance. They're closer than they've ever been anyway; united in the field of death and despair, worlds tinged in red, the sky always aflame.

"No. No you don't." He declares softly, but with purpose, with push. Then, when it seems like he won't say anymore, Roland's head tilts up just a tad, looking through the ruined canopies. This he can say with confidence; how easy it is to imagine Inigo somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away.

"You belong under the sun. With...with big trees up above, and lots of leaves dancing in the wind." Like when he taught him in Irivar, how to nap on a mission even if he's never once let his guard down before, not on the job. Inigo did that. Inigo taught him how to be at peace. "You belong where the flowers are. Flowers in every shape and size and color. You belong there. Not here."

Dare he say it?

Roland promised, though. Would he hold back now, after seeing him build headstones from debris, not a single emotion flitted on his face?

"...You belong with me, hopefully. When I figure out how to save my home. That's...that's what I believe in, at least. You belong with us." Plural. With people. With friends. Away from this choking darkness of the world. More than anything, Inigo deserves to hear Roland's earnest feelings, even as he turns away, hoping he can pull him back up to better memories. He did this to Inigo, at the end of the day. He made his son responsible for a grave after knowing how much he's already had to make all on his own.
adregem: (ponder yonder the world beyond.)

[personal profile] adregem 2021-01-09 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
He shouldn't promise him anything, really. There's nothing he can control, everything in his life after the nuke hit slowly turning into a chance roulette. Did he have a say in reappearing in the second world after death knocked at his door? No. Did he get to decide that his soul was to be split into two, mirror images where one is inextricably linked to the other? No. Did he have a choice about being abducted by a void train, hell bent on forcing good people to play hero without asking? Absolutely not.

Yet here he is, unable to stop himself from answering Inigo with his bleeding heart, wanting it for everyone he's ever cared for even if he knows he can't guarantee a thing.

"Yes. You can." There's not a hint of hesitation in that breath of an answer, not as he stares into his eyes and resists the urge to comfort him with the language he knows best, arms around him to warm him from the outside in. But tonight, perhaps such a gesture would do Roland more good than Inigo. Still, he remains planted where he is, with only a pivot to face him fully. "I hope one day you can believe it as much as I do. Take your time. I'll wait for you. Okay?"

His smile lifts from one corner, small yet fond all the same. Long has Inigo told him he doesn't think he deserves such an ending, or a future where he can be happy with all the things he's had to do to survive, but he's a hero more than Roland ever will be. His decision to end his own timeline so that the past can grow in peace leaves him in admiration to this day; yes, Inigo is the most deserving of a future on his own terms. Once and for all. Happiness, because it is the only reward befitting of sacrifice.

May the good captain's spirit be the final witness to Roland's resolve to take them with him no matter where he might be flung to next.
adregem: (the world beyond my sight.)

[personal profile] adregem 2021-01-10 02:02 pm (UTC)(link)
He looks back at the funeral mound in heavy silence. Eyes draw to a close as he recites something quietly, words only spoken inwardly. If he could, he would whisper his gratitude, and that he hopes wherever void souls go, they go to places of peace and rest. No more tethering, no more crafts or ministries to run away. No more disappearing as if they had never been born. Only happiness, and home.

Roland opens his eyes once more, and he salutes solemnly, the straight of his hand reaching the top of his brow. Afterwards, he turns back to Inigo, tired lines marking a face that had no business looking as old as he feels or actually is. But he's still trying, bridging the gap and reaching out for him with fingers splayed gently. Roland jerks his head backwards, softly.

"Come on. We gotta go." And perhaps he means that in more ways than one. But whether or not Inigo actually takes that hand or not, or if he tugs him forward back into the thick of trees and jungle, Roland will stop him for a minute, his gaze heavy. "Can you just do me one more favor? If it's not too much to ask?"

If in other days he would have reacted differently, perhaps as shy as a man like him would ever allow someone else to see, regardless if it's Inigo, tonight he was not quite that person. Roland's smile is an attempt all on its own, far from happy, just searching for sympathies he knows he doesn't deserve.

"Is it all right if I can sleep by your side, tonight?"
Edited 2021-01-10 14:03 (UTC)
adregem: (aranella...)

[personal profile] adregem 2021-01-11 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
There's no more offered resistance when Roland steps forth, drawing Inigo close, an embrace that binds him to the boy who once cried for him as he bled on the train floor. The boy who once hid injuries that peppered young hands so that no one would have to worry needlessly over him; so that he could continue to smile even when it already hurt. Since then, it's grown more evident that Inigo is the type of person to care so much that nothing will be left for him by design. He would pour himself empty and he's convinced that must be the way of things.

That not even the title of 'son' can exist in his heart without it amounting to a worth that's neither a requirement nor is what Roland truly asks of him. Even tonight, he turns something off without prompting. He transforms himself into a gravedigger like he's done it more times than he can count; and Roland knows he has. How could he keep up is own farce, his own defenses at the face of such painful realizations?

The arms that wrap themselves around Inigo find shelter against the breadth of his back, reaching his arms, tucking his head close.

"You're my son because you're loved." Not for any grand purpose, not for the utility of being there to comfort when it's convenient, not because Roland sees him as a companion to his own grief despite his place by his side that fits such a space. His hug tightens for a second before he lets go, draws back and looks at him straight in the eye. There it is again; the shine of a Brand that tells him what to look for in a crowd, or in a world far flung should that be the fate that comes to pass for them all.

A better fate, hopefully. One he has promised him. One he wishes for with all his heart.

"I'll do my best to confide, but don't be mistaken about that, okay?" Roland removes himself completely from his proximity, before drawing out the hookshot, ready to make the return trip to camp.
adregem: (the sentinel of sorrow.)

[personal profile] adregem 2021-01-14 03:14 pm (UTC)(link)
He wraps an arm around Inigo tight and snug, giving himself a moment to lean down his head in an affection no longer unbecoming of a person like him. Tenderness that overflows from a bruised heart, and Roland would rather stay like this for longer than to look back at the mound that has laid a soul to rest.

He's done his duty. Hasn't he?

"Thank you." He whispers solemnly, one last time. The depth of his gratitude can't be contained in just his words alone, but he hopes he will continue to receive chances to show it more appropriately; as they deserve to be expressed for a soul as kind as Inigo.

He turns his head to the sky, looking for a branch as he did before. The hookshot meets its target, and the cycle of travel begins anew, with but one notable difference. Inigo is held so much closer to Roland, no gap to exist between them as they travel from tree to tree, no more pausing to adjust. He knows precisely where they need to go, and he knows Inigo will never let him go.

And neither will he.