Me? No, I just had a muffin to tide the hunger. I haven't actually sat down to have breakfast yet.
[ He speaks as he writes, his actual penmanship executed so much faster than his typing with both hands that Roland flourishes the paper even before he stops talking. He hands to Tidus easily, smiling. ]
There. You can add 'army' to it, if it has to be specific. Or go with the good 'ol multi-tool pocket knife.
[ Okay but Tidus does squint some at that writing, but he's not going to think about it right now. ]
Huh. Might be better if I try the second? Seeing how it doesn't like people ordering weapons. [ And 'army' was a lot scarier than 'multi-tool', right?? ] Alright then--let's get breakfast.
[ Tidus pockets the book while keeping the pen in hand, thumb on the end so he can idly click at it while waiting to get his grub. It's already busy, but there's less people upstairs than down, and so he heads there with his bread and hefty portion of scrambled eggs, a muffin and juice (carrot and apple juice, nicely enough) to go with it. And he's already got a piece of bread hanging from his mouth when he sits down, pulling the book back out.
And Roland can get a load of Tidus's chunky handwriting as he scribbles in 'multi tool pocket knife' in. ]
[ He follows suit and diverges a little to get other cooked viands on his plate. When Roland returns to their shared table, he sets down a hot mug of coffee - black as night - and even servings of the potato and carrot rosti with a sunny side up egg, yolk underdone, and two pieces of toast. He spots a jar of preserves, and sets it next to his coffee.
He peeks at Tidus' writing as he readies his fork and knife. Brows furrow in confusion, though the thought passes rather quickly. They all come from different worlds...Maybe that was a totally different...alphabet altogether? Did the SCA only translate auditory differences...? Or is that...really his handwriting....
Roland clears his throat. ]
I have something of interest that you may want to add to your list. [ He takes a sip of his coffee before he starts lining up the rosti with the egg on one piece of toast, cutting it neatly in the middle so the yolk ran yellow against the vegetables. ] We have medicinal plants from my world called Soreaways. The more leaves on a soreaway, the stronger it can heal. Why not try getting three leaf soreaway plants, or even the rarest one? Four leaf soreaways? We could plant them in the greenhouse, or medbay.
[ It's cool Roland, you can still read it, the language quickly changing to something more familiar, but for the brief instance--but still it's rather blocky looking no matter what form it takes. look i just wanted to show off the alphabet ok ]
Mm? [ He looks up from the notebook however, starting to write the ones he remembers - med kit, containers, bottles - at Roland, the bread already out of his mouth. ] ...What do you do with them? Eat the leaves?
[ ldfkgkdsljgdklfh but his writing is still blockY, tidus want some calligraphy classes.... He takes his first bite before answering, chewing fast. He doesn't speak with his mouth full at all, so he'll give Tidus a hand signal to tell him he's going to swallow his food before replying. ]
You can, though we mostly use it when it's in the form of a salve. If you need to eat it though, it's edible and will do the job just as well. [ Starts cutting up food again. ] Don't forget the nutritional milk. I've remembered the name - it's called FortiGro Plus. I'm fond of the vanilla flavor, myself. [ Not that he needed to drink it, more of he just wanted the experience to share with -
- he clears his throat again and takes another bite of his food. ]
[ no also ok madam we're waiting for you to delicately chew--
Actually, Tidus is just going to push the notebook Roland's way after he's done giving those names, 'cause you know what- ]
You should write those down too. I've never heard of them. [ And if he's got to type them in, then this is easier for spelling than guessing. Tidus adds wryly: ] You can have some when we get them in.
[ And while Roland might be writing, Tidus picks up his fork to raise a mouthful of his eggs, but not first without saying- ] There's someone onboard who can make copies of things. I'll find out who it is and see what they can double what we get. I don't know if it includes liquids or plants, but if it does...
[ Good stuff, right? He figures he doesn't need to finish, allowing himself to pop the eggs into his mouth. ]
[ WOW okay table manners are essential in life you PUNK
He drops his fork and takes to the page, scribbling the name and all the flavors. He even tries to draw it, and it's not a bad sketch! He writes fast and sketches without concern for form, so he drops the pen carefully as soon as he finishes and goes in for another sip of coffee. Don't even think for one second he's not watching you eat, though - ]
That's an incredibly useful talent to have. Hopefully they don't have too many limitations so we can multiply the supplies coming in - [ He sighs quietly, setting down his cup and going in for another bite of his eggy, carrot toast. ] - and you...are just the picture of grace, right now. Very charming.
[ wow u drew a tin can, good job Roland gold star for you.
Is Roland calling Tidus out as he tears into his lovely big slice of bread seconds after swallowing down his scrambled eggs? Tidus looks up at Roland, blinking, and then down at himself, dropping what's not already in his mouth onto his plate and looking at his shirt--food free--before wiping at his chin.
He doesn't feel anything?? So he shoots Roland a quizzical look, asking around his bread-- ] Whaht?
[ What?? What is Roland talking about, what did he do other than exist! ]
1/2 at this point im just going to change the keywords of this icon to "tidus not again"
[ He gets a look. The Look. But it doesn't last, Roland just smiles that smile he does when he's both amused and exasperated at the same time, digging in to his own food. He's almost done with his first piece of toast, knife and fork cutting big chunks for him to feast on. ]
What else are we missing on your list? Who else have you spoken to for supplies or essentials?
[ man you know an AUDIT would have come in handy right about now but hey thats fine man you do you!!! ]
Tidus meets The Look with a more bewildered one of his own, his brow now knotting hard as he tries asking, 'what? what?!' in Looks, considering he actually wants to eat his food than talk.
And he doesn't either answer him.
This scumbag...! ]
I wanna talk to a few people later, but I didn't have a lot anyway. [ There might be a low annoyed note as he answers, his head ducked now and a warmth on his face, a hand coming to brush over in a subtle attempt to wipe at his mouth with the side it. Is there something on there...? Is Roland making fun of him!? ] Healing potions, magic potions, first aid, your swiss knives, rations, containers.
There's some people who used to be in the army. [ He's scooping up some of his eggs with his fork... ] I'm gonna ask if there's anything they know that'd be good.
[ tidus please chew your food before swallowing and close YOUR MOUTH!!! is what he did but that's not Important anymore, Roland has accepted his fate
He will never know...why Roland casts him The Look..... ]
[ He dabs at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Roland opens the jar of preserves and starts dabbing jam on his remaining piece of toast. ] That's a good idea. Anyone who's had any training or experience in managing a crisis or an emergency should be your priority. You're on the right track, that's for sure. And for yourself, nothing again? No treat? No pick-me-up?
[ AT LEAST HE'S NOT SCARFING DOWN THOSE EGGS THIS TIME ]
But the question of trying himself earns a small huff, a 'I don't know' without even saying it. ]
I can buy a shield? [ Wow what a treat or pick-me-up, and Tidus knows Roland doesn't mean that, but he shrugs when he comes up with nothing else. ] There's nothing I can get. Spira didn't have a lot.
[ And what else was there? There was no getting anything from Zanarkand, and there was no reason to get anything related to Blitzball. He couldn't do a lot with a ball, and as fun as it'd be to see anything to do with Blitzball, the cartoon in the cinema had him missing the game as it was. ]
[ Somehow that makes Roland slow down his eating, makes him chew a bit more thoughtfully. He allows a moment to pass, letting the clinking of their utensils fill up the silence, before he replies. ]
Not even from merchandise from your team? The...what was it? The Zanarkand Aces? Maybe an autographed ball from their star player? T-shirts with your face on it? [ He tries to recall it with a finger under his chin, genuinely wondering if there was a way to order official merch of a sports team. That was a thing even across dimensions, right? ]
Bring me one of the balls from the gym and I'll sign it, [ he flatly replies, returning to what remains of his eggs to draw it up onto the rest of his bread, to eat it that way than separately or adding them in his mouth individually. A drink of his juice taken before a bite, and saying before either- ] Leave the merch to the super fans! Plus, I've still got something of them with me.
[ You're lucky he didn't say the Zanarkand APES, cuz you a monkey with all this monkeying around >8(
He almost scoffs at that, but it's a light gesture, making Roland smirk slightly into his toast. ] Turning me into one of your groupies, Tidus? [ He matches him bite for bite. The jam was pretty good. ] It's nice of you to keep something from your super fans, though. What is it?
[ He glances nonchalantly at Tidus, coffee almost done. ]
[ He shakes his head, mouth still full when he hums in a negative, but swallows before he speaks and his hand going down the neck of his polo shirt. ] My team. It's a necklace.
[ And he pulls it out from under the fabric, a silver chain and a symbol hanging from the centre. Tidus holds it proudly and to show it, making sure that Roland can see. ]
The team logo! I used to have earrings with it too, but this is all the train left me. [ Huff! ] Cool, right? Best team and logo there is!
[ Yeah, he's absolutely proud of his team, what of it! ]
[ There's something about his genuine love for his sport and his team that Roland can only smile widely at it, watching the necklace catch the light in just the right way so that it glints prettily when it rotates in its chain. He tries to remember the way it's drawn, the shapes it makes. He remembers that he doesn't have the complete set - he only has a necklace and not the earrings. Roland has particularly good memory, after all. ]
Heh. Not bad. Not bad at all. It's a beautiful logo. Does it mean anything? Like a deeper meaning, or something native to your world?
[ He finishes off his coffee and is fully engrossed now in Tidus' tale, arms crossed, leaning back against his chair. ]
Not really, [ he admits, dropping his hand so to let the logo fall into its palm, so he can set it to face toward him, and let him see the all too familiar in full view. ] It's been the team logo for a long time, other than that... well, [ he starts with a scoff, ] it means something more to me. I've known it my whole life.
[ There's a wistful quality to that, a story in those few words, the deeper meaning Roland might have been looking for. Tidus takes away his hand, the symbol waving some as it's made to hang properly from Tidus's neck, who looks down at his food. ]
My old man played the same team before me, ten years ago. It was always everywhere--in the streets, our home, on the TV. [ Or whatever Roland knows as a 'TV' in his ears. ] On him, too. He had the thing tattoo'd on his chest.
[ And he shares it in that way that it's embarrassing, ugh, why would he?, but a more complicated emotion over it. He's grabbed at his muffin just to have something to mess with, to break apart in half and then one of those sides into a quarter. ]
That was my dad for you.
(Forgot a minor correction - this is Grasshopper 16, not 31!)
[ He's still as a statue, not missing a single beat of his story. Roland doesn't even move to take another bite, content to just sit back and watch Tidus destroy his muffin. He's observant enough to know this was a story that meant something to him, something authentic and real. Not his usual jokes, poking fun at Roland's age, none of the jest that he's come to associate with the teen. This mattered to him, more than anything he's seen thus far. ]
Your talent for it runs in the family. [ He looks up, and his hand moves to hook inside the handle of his mug. ] Back home, tattooing things like that on your body was commonplace too. Especially the more well-known athletes. Like a memory engraved on you forever, even after you retire from the game. [ He watches Tidus carefully, eyes quiet and searching. There's something else about what he said that pokes at Roland's intrigue. Thankfully, he levels himself enough to match whatever energy Tidus is granting him. ] Is he the reason why you started playing too? On the same team even?
[ The unspoken thought: did Tidus play to be better than his father, or did he play out of love, to uphold the family reputation? Roland would let Tidus explain that. If at all. ]
Edited 2020-08-02 05:31 (UTC)
no you made your date bed, now lie in it from the future
[ Tidus stuffs a piece of the muffin into his mouth, refusing to make eye contact. Refusing to raise his head so as not to make it obvious, as if he's more interested in his food, that this isn't prodding at a raw nerve. Or a reservoir of emotions new and old that don't know what quite to be. ]
I wasn't trying to be him or anythin'. [ Like the defensive that slips out, an implication or remark (an accusation to his ears once upon a time) that he'd learnt better to respond to in the public. But this wasn't Zanarkand; this wasn't the fans or reporters asking him, saying, telling, You're Jecht's son--but can you be Jecht? in every word asked. He could speak as he felt.
But it's sharper than Tidus means it to be, or he knows that to be sharp at all isn't fair, and he sounds embarrassed as he says- ] You get big teams in each side of the city and section. The Zanarkand Abes are in the A-East, you got the Duggles in C-South. No reason to join any other team if that's where I grew up.
[ So he says, and he says it well with that dismissively youthful tone, a cover, an easier way to approach this conversation with what's already fluttered up from his stomach and left a twisted mess for him to deal with deeper. His father, the last time he saw his face; his old man, the ghost of his alcoholism and his refusal to ever be wrong and anything other than a bully; Jecht, the Blitzball star that would be remembered passionately, always.
It's unfair, to be so dodgy about him--to refuse the idea of a comparison, like it's offensive, and have that be the impression he leaves with someone. When he got better. When he deserves better. Tidus fiddles with a piece of the muffin between his fingers, sighing a little as he goes on- ]
He was a good Blitzball player--one of the best. And he was a good guy. He wasn't the best dad, but. He did his best at the end.
[ He searches for something else to say, but pops the broken muffin into his mouth and chews instead. ]
[ He didn't expect the sting, but it's a subject he tends to shove all the way back down, where no one can see his fear; where his thoughts are his alone to suffer. But he keeps his gaze trained on Tidus, he doesn't dare look away. At the end of the day, voidtrecker or not, he too, shared the same fate as the man in Tidus's memories, the man plaguing his subconscious even if it only shows in the small things - when Tidus refuses to look back at Roland, when he eats for only the sake of keeping his hands busy.
He wasn't the best dad, but he did his best in the end. ]
Makes sense. [ Is all he can muster up first, as he takes his half-empty mug, coffee cold and granules of the grind sinking into a murky darkness at the bottom. He wonders what Tidus's father really did; if he had left on such a sour note that his shadow and his reputation both haunt the youth to this day, a titan that he hasn't really faced, not yet, not really. Most of all, Roland wonders if his own story will follow this road. Watching William grow up without him, watching himself grow old without William by his side, getting better, becoming healthier - ]
... I find that when it comes right down to it, children tend to be better than their parents. [ He remembers Evan and King Leonhardt - how both forgave Mausinger in a flash, even though Mausinger betrayed him, killed the King, deposed the king's son without batting an eyelash. He had never felt more pride than on that day, when Evan forged bonds anew, as if it was not his father's killer shaking his hand, signing the Declaration. What a kid. ] And, going by that logic - [ He wills his throat to clear, and he shifts his tone to sound conversational, easygoing. His hand closest to Tidus starts grabbing his fork by the handle. ] - then you're definitely not your old man. Nor should you try to be him.
[ Roland wonders if he will tell himself the same thing, when the time comes. That he did his best. That he did everything, everything for Will, so that he wouldn't have to live in a world so torn by war.
Without warning, the Chief Consul quickly pierces the remaining torn up muffin piece on Tidus's plate with his fork and puts it in his mouth, chewing. He wiggles his eyebrow once, hiding under his bangs, a sharp look in his eyes. ]
[ There's a conversation here that Tidus doesn't want to have. Questions he could ask about Roland himself--Were you a father?--that he could assume by what he says, more he could know about the man he's come to like, respect, more that he could share about himself.
But he can't. He won't. There's a knot in his throat all the way from that mess inside his gut, and it's too soon, it's not right. Cutlery clanks all around and the acoustics of morning conversation sound from the upper floor and below, and this isn't the time to be upset. Not the time to figure out his feelings or this sudden discomfort that's heavier in him than it should be.
So maybe he can be glad at some later point for the fork that enters his vision, the jesting motion Roland makes when Tidus does look up. A small escape that's hard to drag himself towards when he still looks back down, conflicted, but- ]
I'll order the stuff in a sec. [ He squeezes his hands into fists on either side of the plate, then lets them rest flat on the table. ] You put everything down?
[ He'd rather not address it now, but later. All of that there in that moment. Pretend it wasn't there. ]
Let me double check. [ Roland doesn't move quite as snappy, but he does eventually unfold his arms and reach for the forgotten notebook. He clicks his pen and he writes in his usual fast scrawl, eyes sometimes darting back to Tidus to see if he's uncoiled. ] Pays to be sure. Even if somebody's got half a thousand points to spend in a day.
[ He throws him another smile, but it's more endearing than it is joking. Roland reads through it, makes sure every item he remembers is listed and then some, before handing it back to Tidus with a gentle slide on the table. ]
Yeah. [ Tidus stands, taking the notebook and resting it to the side of his tray to pick up at the same time. A look finally taken in Roland's direction, a better, if emptier smile flashed his way. ]
I'll use the terminal downstairs if it's free.
[ It's a 'see you later', whether it's sooner or later they do. The space will be good for him to get out of his own stupid head. But alas, poor destroyed muffin left to be chucked out and not even eaten after all that rip and tearing... ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
blitzcheer) wrote2020-04-28 11:07 am
JOURNAL. //JOURNAL//!!
[ He speaks as he writes, his actual penmanship executed so much faster than his typing with both hands that Roland flourishes the paper even before he stops talking. He hands to Tidus easily, smiling. ]
There. You can add 'army' to it, if it has to be specific. Or go with the good 'ol multi-tool pocket knife.
can't believe you had a meme for that
Huh. Might be better if I try the second? Seeing how it doesn't like people ordering weapons. [ And 'army' was a lot scarier than 'multi-tool', right?? ] Alright then--let's get breakfast.
[ Tidus pockets the book while keeping the pen in hand, thumb on the end so he can idly click at it while waiting to get his grub. It's already busy, but there's less people upstairs than down, and so he heads there with his bread and hefty portion of scrambled eggs, a muffin and juice (carrot and apple juice, nicely enough) to go with it. And he's already got a piece of bread hanging from his mouth when he sits down, pulling the book back out.
And Roland can get a load of Tidus's chunky handwriting as he scribbles in 'multi tool pocket knife' in. ]
only for tidus <3
He peeks at Tidus' writing as he readies his fork and knife. Brows furrow in confusion, though the thought passes rather quickly. They all come from different worlds...Maybe that was a totally different...alphabet altogether? Did the SCA only translate auditory differences...? Or is that...really his handwriting....
Roland clears his throat. ]
I have something of interest that you may want to add to your list. [ He takes a sip of his coffee before he starts lining up the rosti with the egg on one piece of toast, cutting it neatly in the middle so the yolk ran yellow against the vegetables. ] We have medicinal plants from my world called Soreaways. The more leaves on a soreaway, the stronger it can heal. Why not try getting three leaf soreaway plants, or even the rarest one? Four leaf soreaways? We could plant them in the greenhouse, or medbay.
no subject
look i just wanted to show off the alphabet ok]Mm? [ He looks up from the notebook however, starting to write the ones he remembers - med kit, containers, bottles - at Roland, the bread already out of his mouth. ] ...What do you do with them? Eat the leaves?
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ldfkgkdsljgdklfh but his writing is still blockY, tidus want some calligraphy classes....He takes his first bite before answering, chewing fast. He doesn't speak with his mouth full at all, so he'll give Tidus a hand signal to tell him he's going to swallow his food before replying. ]You can, though we mostly use it when it's in the form of a salve. If you need to eat it though, it's edible and will do the job just as well. [ Starts cutting up food again. ] Don't forget the nutritional milk. I've remembered the name - it's called FortiGro Plus. I'm fond of the vanilla flavor, myself. [ Not that he needed to drink it, more of he just wanted the experience to share with -
- he clears his throat again and takes another bite of his food. ]
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noalso ok madam we're waiting for you to delicately chew--Actually, Tidus is just going to push the notebook Roland's way after he's done giving those names, 'cause you know what- ]
You should write those down too. I've never heard of them. [ And if he's got to type them in, then this is easier for spelling than guessing. Tidus adds wryly: ] You can have some when we get them in.
[ And while Roland might be writing, Tidus picks up his fork to raise a mouthful of his eggs, but not first without saying- ] There's someone onboard who can make copies of things. I'll find out who it is and see what they can double what we get. I don't know if it includes liquids or plants, but if it does...
[ Good stuff, right? He figures he doesn't need to finish, allowing himself to pop the eggs into his mouth. ]
no subject
He drops his fork and takes to the page, scribbling the name and all the flavors. He even tries to draw it, and it's not a bad sketch! He writes fast and sketches without concern for form, so he drops the pen carefully as soon as he finishes and goes in for another sip of coffee. Don't even think for one second he's not watching you eat, though - ]
That's an incredibly useful talent to have. Hopefully they don't have too many limitations so we can multiply the supplies coming in - [ He sighs quietly, setting down his cup and going in for another bite of his eggy, carrot toast. ] - and you...are just the picture of grace, right now. Very charming.
no subject
Is Roland calling Tidus out as he tears into his lovely big slice of bread seconds after swallowing down his scrambled eggs? Tidus looks up at Roland, blinking, and then down at himself, dropping what's not already in his mouth onto his plate and looking at his shirt--food free--before wiping at his chin.
He doesn't feel anything?? So he shoots Roland a quizzical look, asking around his bread-- ] Whaht?
[ What?? What is Roland talking about, what did he do other than exist! ]
1/2 at this point im just going to change the keywords of this icon to "tidus not again"
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What else are we missing on your list? Who else have you spoken to for supplies or essentials?
[ man you know an AUDIT would have come in handy right about now but hey thats fine man you do you!!! ]
no subject
Tidus meets The Look with a more bewildered one of his own, his brow now knotting hard as he tries asking, 'what? what?!' in Looks, considering he actually wants to eat his food than talk.
And he doesn't either answer him.
This scumbag...! ]
I wanna talk to a few people later, but I didn't have a lot anyway. [ There might be a low annoyed note as he answers, his head ducked now and a warmth on his face, a hand coming to brush over in a subtle attempt to wipe at his mouth with the side it. Is there something on there...? Is Roland making fun of him!? ] Healing potions, magic potions, first aid, your swiss knives, rations, containers.
There's some people who used to be in the army. [ He's scooping up some of his eggs with his fork... ] I'm gonna ask if there's anything they know that'd be good.
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He will never know...why Roland casts him The Look..... ]
[ He dabs at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Roland opens the jar of preserves and starts dabbing jam on his remaining piece of toast. ] That's a good idea. Anyone who's had any training or experience in managing a crisis or an emergency should be your priority. You're on the right track, that's for sure. And for yourself, nothing again? No treat? No pick-me-up?
[ AT LEAST HE'S NOT SCARFING DOWN THOSE EGGS THIS TIME ]
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But the question of trying himself earns a small huff, a 'I don't know' without even saying it. ]
I can buy a shield? [ Wow what a treat or pick-me-up, and Tidus knows Roland doesn't mean that, but he shrugs when he comes up with nothing else. ] There's nothing I can get. Spira didn't have a lot.
[ And what else was there? There was no getting anything from Zanarkand, and there was no reason to get anything related to Blitzball. He couldn't do a lot with a ball, and as fun as it'd be to see anything to do with Blitzball, the cartoon in the cinema had him missing the game as it was. ]
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Not even from merchandise from your team? The...what was it? The Zanarkand Aces? Maybe an autographed ball from their star player? T-shirts with your face on it? [ He tries to recall it with a finger under his chin, genuinely wondering if there was a way to order official merch of a sports team. That was a thing even across dimensions, right? ]
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Bring me one of the balls from the gym and I'll sign it, [ he flatly replies, returning to what remains of his eggs to draw it up onto the rest of his bread, to eat it that way than separately or adding them in his mouth individually. A drink of his juice taken before a bite, and saying before either- ] Leave the merch to the super fans! Plus, I've still got something of them with me.
[ Right there now with them, even. ]
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He almost scoffs at that, but it's a light gesture, making Roland smirk slightly into his toast. ] Turning me into one of your groupies, Tidus? [ He matches him bite for bite. The jam was pretty good. ] It's nice of you to keep something from your super fans, though. What is it?
[ He glances nonchalantly at Tidus, coffee almost done. ]
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[ And he pulls it out from under the fabric, a silver chain and a symbol hanging from the centre. Tidus holds it proudly and to show it, making sure that Roland can see. ]
The team logo! I used to have earrings with it too, but this is all the train left me. [ Huff! ] Cool, right? Best team and logo there is!
[ Yeah, he's absolutely proud of his team, what of it! ]
no subject
Heh. Not bad. Not bad at all. It's a beautiful logo. Does it mean anything? Like a deeper meaning, or something native to your world?
[ He finishes off his coffee and is fully engrossed now in Tidus' tale, arms crossed, leaning back against his chair. ]
no subject
[ There's a wistful quality to that, a story in those few words, the deeper meaning Roland might have been looking for. Tidus takes away his hand, the symbol waving some as it's made to hang properly from Tidus's neck, who looks down at his food. ]
My old man played the same team before me, ten years ago. It was always everywhere--in the streets, our home, on the TV. [ Or whatever Roland knows as a 'TV' in his ears. ] On him, too. He had the thing tattoo'd on his chest.
[ And he shares it in that way that it's embarrassing, ugh, why would he?, but a more complicated emotion over it. He's grabbed at his muffin just to have something to mess with, to break apart in half and then one of those sides into a quarter. ]
That was my dad for you.
(Forgot a minor correction - this is Grasshopper 16, not 31!)
Your talent for it runs in the family. [ He looks up, and his hand moves to hook inside the handle of his mug. ] Back home, tattooing things like that on your body was commonplace too. Especially the more well-known athletes. Like a memory engraved on you forever, even after you retire from the game. [ He watches Tidus carefully, eyes quiet and searching. There's something else about what he said that pokes at Roland's intrigue. Thankfully, he levels himself enough to match whatever energy Tidus is granting him. ] Is he the reason why you started playing too? On the same team even?
[ The unspoken thought: did Tidus play to be better than his father, or did he play out of love, to uphold the family reputation? Roland would let Tidus explain that. If at all. ]
no you made your date bed, now lie in it from the future
I wasn't trying to be him or anythin'. [ Like the defensive that slips out, an implication or remark (an accusation to his ears once upon a time) that he'd learnt better to respond to in the public. But this wasn't Zanarkand; this wasn't the fans or reporters asking him, saying, telling, You're Jecht's son--but can you be Jecht? in every word asked. He could speak as he felt.
But it's sharper than Tidus means it to be, or he knows that to be sharp at all isn't fair, and he sounds embarrassed as he says- ] You get big teams in each side of the city and section. The Zanarkand Abes are in the A-East, you got the Duggles in C-South. No reason to join any other team if that's where I grew up.
[ So he says, and he says it well with that dismissively youthful tone, a cover, an easier way to approach this conversation with what's already fluttered up from his stomach and left a twisted mess for him to deal with deeper. His father, the last time he saw his face; his old man, the ghost of his alcoholism and his refusal to ever be wrong and anything other than a bully; Jecht, the Blitzball star that would be remembered passionately, always.
It's unfair, to be so dodgy about him--to refuse the idea of a comparison, like it's offensive, and have that be the impression he leaves with someone. When he got better. When he deserves better. Tidus fiddles with a piece of the muffin between his fingers, sighing a little as he goes on- ]
He was a good Blitzball player--one of the best. And he was a good guy. He wasn't the best dad, but. He did his best at the end.
[ He searches for something else to say, but pops the broken muffin into his mouth and chews instead. ]
https://i.imgur.com/R7NGVsc.jpg
He wasn't the best dad, but he did his best in the end. ]
Makes sense. [ Is all he can muster up first, as he takes his half-empty mug, coffee cold and granules of the grind sinking into a murky darkness at the bottom. He wonders what Tidus's father really did; if he had left on such a sour note that his shadow and his reputation both haunt the youth to this day, a titan that he hasn't really faced, not yet, not really. Most of all, Roland wonders if his own story will follow this road. Watching William grow up without him, watching himself grow old without William by his side, getting better, becoming healthier - ]
... I find that when it comes right down to it, children tend to be better than their parents. [ He remembers Evan and King Leonhardt - how both forgave Mausinger in a flash, even though Mausinger betrayed him, killed the King, deposed the king's son without batting an eyelash. He had never felt more pride than on that day, when Evan forged bonds anew, as if it was not his father's killer shaking his hand, signing the Declaration. What a kid. ] And, going by that logic - [ He wills his throat to clear, and he shifts his tone to sound conversational, easygoing. His hand closest to Tidus starts grabbing his fork by the handle. ] - then you're definitely not your old man. Nor should you try to be him.
[ Roland wonders if he will tell himself the same thing, when the time comes. That he did his best. That he did everything, everything for Will, so that he wouldn't have to live in a world so torn by war.
Without warning, the Chief Consul quickly pierces the remaining torn up muffin piece on Tidus's plate with his fork and puts it in his mouth, chewing. He wiggles his eyebrow once, hiding under his bangs, a sharp look in his eyes. ]
You're better.
nbd nbd just Father Feelings
But he can't. He won't. There's a knot in his throat all the way from that mess inside his gut, and it's too soon, it's not right. Cutlery clanks all around and the acoustics of morning conversation sound from the upper floor and below, and this isn't the time to be upset. Not the time to figure out his feelings or this sudden discomfort that's heavier in him than it should be.
So maybe he can be glad at some later point for the fork that enters his vision, the jesting motion Roland makes when Tidus does look up. A small escape that's hard to drag himself towards when he still looks back down, conflicted, but- ]
I'll order the stuff in a sec. [ He squeezes his hands into fists on either side of the plate, then lets them rest flat on the table. ] You put everything down?
[ He'd rather not address it now, but later. All of that there in that moment. Pretend it wasn't there. ]
BIG OOF 8(
[ He throws him another smile, but it's more endearing than it is joking. Roland reads through it, makes sure every item he remembers is listed and then some, before handing it back to Tidus with a gentle slide on the table. ]
Go crazy.
wow are we wrapping a thread?? scandalous
I'll use the terminal downstairs if it's free.
[ It's a 'see you later', whether it's sooner or later they do. The space will be good for him to get out of his own stupid head. But alas, poor destroyed muffin left to be chucked out and not even eaten after all that rip and tearing... ]
how dare we close clean, who ARE WE ANYMORE