There's a point in the conversation where a familiar flash of light shines from the bottom of the table, but it's nothing they have not seen before. Roland glances down and places his well-used journal on the table, and a pen resting between its pages comes out of hiding too. A natural motion of jotting everything down - everything he thinks will aid him in the long run; a flurry of strokes and periods that accompany pauses and breaths taken in sync between the two of them sat before him. His intuition about them was not wrong, he realizes with some level of relief. And he understands more than anything that what he asked of them was certainly not shared without some semblance of trust, however small it may be. Roland hasn't known them all that long, but this much of an impression he can confidently gather.
The flow of information doesn't intimidate him, but spurs him to start writing faster, cherry-picking what he can and saving his thoughts for another time. He doesn't wish to interrupt the flow of events as he processes it, one factoid at a time, nodding and humming and shifting his gaze from the pages to their faces, making sure to catch nuances in between. From what Roland can tell...it almost sounded like a modern-day genesis. Restarting the world, literally, from the races born out of the surviving astronauts. Would his reality have that? Would that be the key? Get in touch with astronauts who may have been in outer space during the time of the nuclear bomb going off? How would they even land, then? Where would they go...?
But then, Roland would be all alone then, if he ever returned. Would that even be a possibility for him? He decides to compartmentalize what he wants to focus on, for now. At some point in time, these thoughts will come rushing back at him again anyway. Things are crossed out, squiggled away, and he continues in beat with Senku and Gen's words.
"What a nefarious scheme." He says under his breath, just audible enough. "To do this to the whole world...To invent a technology that causes mass extinction thru petrification...What a journey you've both had. From waking up to apparently, getting death threats as soon as you do." And from the sounds of things, it's far from over too. This sentiment he means quite deeply. It seems this little gathering of survivors really had that thread of hope connecting them all to the endgame - to bring back or revive the fallen, start anew, the best way they could or knew how to.
He moves his pen again, turning to a fresh page. Senku's survival plan is detailed, but he appreciates it because he had no base knowledge apart from the usual: looking for water, which he had outlined already; then building a fire? Roland's brows furrow, muttering just to repeat what Senku instructs. "Right. So bow drill, next..." His writing slows significantly with each passing line, the only indication that Roland's thinking much harder than he was previously. Otherwise, his face betrays nothing.
He wants to ask so much more. Senku, what would you do if you had neither deer to hunt for food nor a viable place to find clean water, a stream to drink from? Roland realizes there was going to be an extra layer of challenge for him; a nuclear wasteland was not going to be the same as a world covered in overgrowth. But a part of him is hesitant to talk about it, the words heavy on his tongue. How would he truly ask for Senku's brilliance or Gen's astuteness if he didn't try to be honest about things from his end, though?
Thankfully, he could buy himself some time with an equally genuine observation. As he ponders what to say next, his pen swaying side to side like a metronome, Roland returns to a point mentioned, a small smile on his face. For now, he will keep his other observation close to his chest until he confirms more for himself; since when did Gen start calling Senku his dearest and not just 'my dear...?'
Interesting.
"Say, if you want, I can always train with you here. Help build up your stamina, build some cardio and muscle tone. Whatever I can help with, just let me know. For both of you." Roland turns to them, determined. "I was a pretty small kid back in the day, and picking a martial art honed my body in a lot of ways I didn't expect. Anyway, it's something I want to offer in case it ever crossed your mind. And it's a little better than small talk training, right? You've got Gen for that, now. Heh." That inside joke was never going to get old, at this point. The origin of Roland's friendship with Senku, at this point.
no subject
The flow of information doesn't intimidate him, but spurs him to start writing faster, cherry-picking what he can and saving his thoughts for another time. He doesn't wish to interrupt the flow of events as he processes it, one factoid at a time, nodding and humming and shifting his gaze from the pages to their faces, making sure to catch nuances in between. From what Roland can tell...it almost sounded like a modern-day genesis. Restarting the world, literally, from the races born out of the surviving astronauts. Would his reality have that? Would that be the key? Get in touch with astronauts who may have been in outer space during the time of the nuclear bomb going off? How would they even land, then? Where would they go...?
But then, Roland would be all alone then, if he ever returned. Would that even be a possibility for him? He decides to compartmentalize what he wants to focus on, for now. At some point in time, these thoughts will come rushing back at him again anyway. Things are crossed out, squiggled away, and he continues in beat with Senku and Gen's words.
"What a nefarious scheme." He says under his breath, just audible enough. "To do this to the whole world...To invent a technology that causes mass extinction thru petrification...What a journey you've both had. From waking up to apparently, getting death threats as soon as you do." And from the sounds of things, it's far from over too. This sentiment he means quite deeply. It seems this little gathering of survivors really had that thread of hope connecting them all to the endgame - to bring back or revive the fallen, start anew, the best way they could or knew how to.
He moves his pen again, turning to a fresh page. Senku's survival plan is detailed, but he appreciates it because he had no base knowledge apart from the usual: looking for water, which he had outlined already; then building a fire? Roland's brows furrow, muttering just to repeat what Senku instructs. "Right. So bow drill, next..." His writing slows significantly with each passing line, the only indication that Roland's thinking much harder than he was previously. Otherwise, his face betrays nothing.
He wants to ask so much more. Senku, what would you do if you had neither deer to hunt for food nor a viable place to find clean water, a stream to drink from? Roland realizes there was going to be an extra layer of challenge for him; a nuclear wasteland was not going to be the same as a world covered in overgrowth. But a part of him is hesitant to talk about it, the words heavy on his tongue. How would he truly ask for Senku's brilliance or Gen's astuteness if he didn't try to be honest about things from his end, though?
Thankfully, he could buy himself some time with an equally genuine observation. As he ponders what to say next, his pen swaying side to side like a metronome, Roland returns to a point mentioned, a small smile on his face. For now, he will keep his other observation close to his chest until he confirms more for himself; since when did Gen start calling Senku his dearest and not just 'my dear...?'
Interesting.
"Say, if you want, I can always train with you here. Help build up your stamina, build some cardio and muscle tone. Whatever I can help with, just let me know. For both of you." Roland turns to them, determined. "I was a pretty small kid back in the day, and picking a martial art honed my body in a lot of ways I didn't expect. Anyway, it's something I want to offer in case it ever crossed your mind. And it's a little better than small talk training, right? You've got Gen for that, now. Heh." That inside joke was never going to get old, at this point. The origin of Roland's friendship with Senku, at this point.