Roland Crane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
adregem) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
voidtreckerexpress2020-11-03 02:01 am
adregem) wrote in voidtreckerexpress2020-11-03 02:01 am
the voidtrecker cafe is now open? ☕ a november catch-all!
Who: Roland Crane x OTA!
Where: Various places, specifically/primarily: the Kitchen and the Gym.
When: Spanning most of early Imagination, from Imagination 1-12 (pre-mission weeks).
What: Join the train's resident president as he explores various degrees of hobby-making, training, and whatever else comes between work and sleep.
Warnings: Self-indulgent Barista!Roland as the primary prompt. No apologies given!!!
01 - good to the last drop?
It's your sense of smell that's engaged first. Walk upstairs unto the second floor of the Kitchen, and it's impossible to miss. Its wafting aroma may even reach below the floor, enticing you to come up out of curiosity. For those who come from Earth in particular, it's a smell that feels fond and nostalgic, invoking busy work days and people-watching by busy tables.
Almost true to the designated name of the month, there is an invitation to be swept away by the roast of coffee beans stirring the imagination. The air around here is unbelievably fragrant, almost sweet. And the amateur roast master for as long as supplies last is a dutiful figure - Roland Crane, in a simple polo shirt and an apron tied to his waist, standing behind the steel counter with an open crate of supplies from his recent purchase at the store. The communal coffee maker is there too, but his spread is more meticulous this time around. Two bags of coffee beans labeled 'hazelnut creme' and 'dark arabica' to one side, with batches already ground up. The portable grinder is small, but it matches the moka pot for espresso. Hot water already reaching the boil, with bottles lined up like they're ready for service: a couple of syrup selections, bottles of milk, cream, sugar, then finally the hero of the month: honey in various containers.
He's reading a book from the counter, head tilted down, but don't let that stop you from approaching. He's got something brewing, in more ways than one. In fact, as soon as he notices you, he'll offer a small smile, abandoning the task of reading altogether as he goes for his tools. Cups and mugs within reach, but he'll pretend to write something on them with his pen. An inside joke that may or may not connect, but he commits to the immersion anyway:
"Hey, welcome back. Don't worry, I remember you. And what you ordered last time. Heh."
Kick back. Relax. Have a cuppa of honey and coffee and let Roland the barista hear your tales of woe. Or joy? Whatever you're willing to share. He'll listen. He's got the experience, trust him.
(The tip jar to the very end of his work station is absolutely fake.)
02 - a moving target.
[ At the Gym, some time before mission information goes up and Roland heads straight into his usual business mode, you will find him with his pistol. But for those who have seen him in action already, there's something decidedly different this time around. The gun in his hand, although already more futuristic and magical in its design, is looking more spruced up. An extra barrel that makes it bulky, and the muzzle shaped odd. There's something there that was not there before.
And the only time you will see this for yourself is when he takes a deep breath...and aims at the makeshift targets from a distance. They're staggered, purposely left in random formations. When Roland shoots, his left hand holding the trigger, the usual sound of a gun firing filling the car...Until it stops and suddenly a grappling hook comes out instead. A weird combination, but it fires just as fast as the bullets and there's a struggle to reach the farthest dummy.
Unfortunately, it doesn't quite catch. And so Roland retracts it back, the fiber cable making a sharp whizzing sound as it returns to the gun. ]
[ He sighs. ] This is going to take some getting used to before I even think about making new moves.
[ Approach him here, for training, and he'll be a happy partner. ] Say, got something small I can use to try and grab with my new toy, here? I promise I won't break it. [ Roland nods, jokingly but also, how could he lie to you with such an earnest face? ]
03 - Wildcard!
[ For anything else you may want to do! Am on Discord < Titallenial#7701 > for plotting ideas. Am always open, and will follow your lead! ]
Where: Various places, specifically/primarily: the Kitchen and the Gym.
When: Spanning most of early Imagination, from Imagination 1-12 (pre-mission weeks).
What: Join the train's resident president as he explores various degrees of hobby-making, training, and whatever else comes between work and sleep.
Warnings: Self-indulgent Barista!Roland as the primary prompt. No apologies given!!!
01 - good to the last drop?
It's your sense of smell that's engaged first. Walk upstairs unto the second floor of the Kitchen, and it's impossible to miss. Its wafting aroma may even reach below the floor, enticing you to come up out of curiosity. For those who come from Earth in particular, it's a smell that feels fond and nostalgic, invoking busy work days and people-watching by busy tables.
Almost true to the designated name of the month, there is an invitation to be swept away by the roast of coffee beans stirring the imagination. The air around here is unbelievably fragrant, almost sweet. And the amateur roast master for as long as supplies last is a dutiful figure - Roland Crane, in a simple polo shirt and an apron tied to his waist, standing behind the steel counter with an open crate of supplies from his recent purchase at the store. The communal coffee maker is there too, but his spread is more meticulous this time around. Two bags of coffee beans labeled 'hazelnut creme' and 'dark arabica' to one side, with batches already ground up. The portable grinder is small, but it matches the moka pot for espresso. Hot water already reaching the boil, with bottles lined up like they're ready for service: a couple of syrup selections, bottles of milk, cream, sugar, then finally the hero of the month: honey in various containers.
He's reading a book from the counter, head tilted down, but don't let that stop you from approaching. He's got something brewing, in more ways than one. In fact, as soon as he notices you, he'll offer a small smile, abandoning the task of reading altogether as he goes for his tools. Cups and mugs within reach, but he'll pretend to write something on them with his pen. An inside joke that may or may not connect, but he commits to the immersion anyway:
"Hey, welcome back. Don't worry, I remember you. And what you ordered last time. Heh."
Kick back. Relax. Have a cuppa of honey and coffee and let Roland the barista hear your tales of woe. Or joy? Whatever you're willing to share. He'll listen. He's got the experience, trust him.
(The tip jar to the very end of his work station is absolutely fake.)
02 - a moving target.
[ At the Gym, some time before mission information goes up and Roland heads straight into his usual business mode, you will find him with his pistol. But for those who have seen him in action already, there's something decidedly different this time around. The gun in his hand, although already more futuristic and magical in its design, is looking more spruced up. An extra barrel that makes it bulky, and the muzzle shaped odd. There's something there that was not there before.
And the only time you will see this for yourself is when he takes a deep breath...and aims at the makeshift targets from a distance. They're staggered, purposely left in random formations. When Roland shoots, his left hand holding the trigger, the usual sound of a gun firing filling the car...Until it stops and suddenly a grappling hook comes out instead. A weird combination, but it fires just as fast as the bullets and there's a struggle to reach the farthest dummy.
Unfortunately, it doesn't quite catch. And so Roland retracts it back, the fiber cable making a sharp whizzing sound as it returns to the gun. ]
[ He sighs. ] This is going to take some getting used to before I even think about making new moves.
[ Approach him here, for training, and he'll be a happy partner. ] Say, got something small I can use to try and grab with my new toy, here? I promise I won't break it. [ Roland nods, jokingly but also, how could he lie to you with such an earnest face? ]
03 - Wildcard!
[ For anything else you may want to do! Am on Discord < Titallenial#7701 > for plotting ideas. Am always open, and will follow your lead! ]
no subject
He doesn't mean to give Reno so much, but he has a way of speaking, a shift in his manner that borders more on the panicked crazy than it used to. Roland's not one to play games, either. Doesn't much care for circumstances or darting around an issue he'd rather be over and done with. He thinks of Inigo still, to this moment. Thinks about the breakdown by the gates of Irivar, and how broken he sounded when he told Roland how unworthy he was, how he deserved it all. Roland knows Inigo even meant it, and that's what Roland can't accept about all this. So he'll engage, and if he takes on the brunt of this cruelty, well. Roland's faced far worse people than Reno. Faced far hotter heat. His voice, calm and nonchalant at first, drops dangerously low into an edge that he hasn't had to reveal in a long, long time. Eventually darting his gaze up from underneath his bangs, starring daggers into Reno from his place at the counter.
"Enlighten me."
no subject
"A betrayal is the worst sort of sin. They say traitors get the most severe punishments in the afterlife or whatever hell you believe in. Sounds good to me. I hope it comes true."
Oh, Reno could have addressed the questions directly. But he didn't see the point anymore. No one ever listened to him when he said his piece. They thought of him as a murderer? He would let them believe he was out for blood. They wanted a monster to hate? He'd make them despise him. It's not as if a Turk was ever loved for their work. Needed? Yes. Used? Absolutely. Feared? No one wanted to see those dark suits headed their way. The fairy tales said they'd take naughty children away never to be seen again. Hell, maybe it'd even happened before. They did kidnap recruits when ordered. No questions asked.
Roland wanted to pretend he didn't walk right into needless trouble on his own accord? So be it. Fuck him. Reno already hated him for it anyway. No need to call him out on it.
As for the rest, he wasn't going to waste his breath on explaining himself when he'd already done so. His creed wasn't going to change or anything; why convince anyone of what he already knew and they didn't believe. He was fine playing the game as it was lined by others. He didn't like it, but this wasn't his show unfortunately. Otherwise, this would have already been settled his way several days over.
no subject
Of all the explanations Roland was expecting to hear, whether Reno was aware of what he's done to Inigo or not, betrayal was the last thing on his mind. But Reno doesn't offer him more than that, instead opting to stare and smirk at him from where he lingers, closer to the stairs but inching a little bit more to close whatever gap exists between them. How symbolic, Roland thinks. But he can't shake it off, can't ignore what Reno says. He straightens up, ignores the feigned reading from his cook book to stare back at the shark-toothed redhead.
Reno keeps speaking to him like he's done such a great wrong, but Roland won't be the fool for it. Won't let him control the conversation when he's done nothing but shown him decency before he discovered how vile he really could be when he was in the mood.
It's a feat in itself to hear Roland sound so leveled still, yet his eyes cut him cold. Authoritative.
"What betrayal are you talking about? You bullied Inigo from the beginning. Are you delusional? Do you think he'd just let that pass without telling anyone?"
no subject
No, this conversation wasn't about Inigo as far as Reno was concerned. He and Roland weren't on the same page at all when it came to the topic of discussion. Reno couldn't care less about Inigo or the way he treated him; the Turk only had eyes for Roland right now, and was focused on that hatred rather than anything to do with his outstanding relationship with Inigo. He wasn't anywhere near a point of listening to Roland's reasonable worries over Inigo's mental health. They'd have to get past other issues first before Reno might listen to reason.
"But you think you can walk into a situation and take over like you know what's going on... You attack the person being physically assaulted and expect no fight back. Who's the delusional one? You expected me to roll over and take it? Inigo attacked me not once but twice--and you joined him! I should have finished you both off for that instead of playing with you!"
no subject
Making any sort of amends to Roland would be useless too; retribution had to be by Inigo's hand. He had to demand an apology on his terms. But where Roland thinks he's got a grasp on things at long last, Reno begins to heat up too, complicates matters that turn Roland's expression even more dour. His frown deepens. The feeling that blooms in his chest is a familiar one. It's the flair of his temper which Roland is never fond of acknowledging. But when Reno tells him off for a crime Roland knew he wasn't guilty of - the accusation hurled his way that he had malicious intentions that day against Reno...
This was delusion, alright. Delusion with a sprinkle of the inane. Roland lets him finish speaking before he pounces, his tones eerily low.
"If you're done throwing a tantrum, how about I let you in on some perspective?" Since he's obviously so caught up in his own world that he's not seeing the bigger picture. Roland doesn't owe him an explanation, but at least Roland can't say he never tried to make this man see reason. No, the truth.
"Inigo didn't physically assault you." Roland says, pointedly, as if narrating a fact at the court of law. "You are the provocateur. The agitator. You have been constantly bullying him to the point where he had no choice but to defend himself from your slander by throwing a punch." He narrows his eyes; won't miss a beat. "You've hurt him in ways I wish you could feel for yourself. But the most hilarious thing you've said to me is how you think I betrayed you for taking Inigo's side."
He shakes his head.
"I will never abandon a victim of incessant, unrepentant bullying. What more if I care about them, like I do a son? I'll always hold you to account for going after us even when we both tried to walk away. Because at the end of the day, if Inigo punched you? It's because you deserved it, Reno. But Inigo and I did nothing to deserve your death threats. You can't keep hurting people just because you're in a bad mood. You're not in the right."
no subject
When Roland kept talking, however, Reno felt the heat rise in him. He didn't like the phrasing of the words, he didn't like the tone, and he didn't like being assaulted by someone he knew he could take down. He was a Turk. People didn't talk this way to a Turk without getting hurt.
The kicker though was when Roland told him he deserved it. Deep down Reno knew it was the truth. That didn't make his rage any less hard to ignore in that moment. It made it worse. Brought it to the boiling point. Roland had a second's worth of time to register it in Reno's eyes as they lit up wild like on the day of which they spoke--before the redhead rushed forward lightning quick, closing the distance between the two of them in an instant. The counter kept them apart but Reno didn't seem to notice as he grabbed Roland by the collar with his right hand, left raised into position for a punch.
It never came.
Reno's fire burned bright but, for once, something held it back. He was smarter than this. Being a Turk wasn't always about beating the shit out of the other guy. Not when it caused more trouble than it solved. He'd seen cheap plays before--hell, he'd been the one to carry them out when the order came--and he hated that. His biggest sin was following the orders of that damn mad man. He wasn't in charge anymore, thank the Lifestream, but Reno wasn't acting much smarter right now.
Reno had always been the quick one--quick to talk, quick to take action, quick to get into trouble. He knew that. He knew without his fellow Turks he was at a disadvantage. But he had to be quick to think. He could do it--he'd run the Turks for a time and no one had said how bad he was at it. Sure, Tseng was better but Reno could do it. He had to play the smart game.
He didn't realize how shaky his breath was until he started to talk. He hid it behind a low growling tone. He was still mad after all. His rage still burned deep down, smothering him, making him see red.
"As I recall," he said in that low, dangerous tone, face close to Roland's as he pulled the other man over the counter towards him at the same time he leaned forward, "I stopped fighting when I saw your gun. You let Inigo continue the fight. You watched as he came at me with his sword drawn. You could have stopped him then and there. But what? You couldn't ignore a few heated words? Be the bigger man? He couldn't take it any more, but what about you, Mr. High-and-Mighty? Let's face it, you didn't want it to stop. You wanted it as bad as he did."
Reno's lips curled into a dark smile as he stared into Roland's eyes. "And you know what? That I get. Respect, even. Because it's just. like. me."
He released Roland suddenly though he didn't take a step back yet. "Fighting to defend your honor. Fighting to protect something you care about more than anything else. I get that. Sometimes you have to break a few bones to get what you want. To prove a point. Nothing wrong with that."
sorry for the lateness, work...@_@
Not that he would have let that slide, if Reno didn't think to hold himself back. Roland stills himself, becomes a statue that tries to wade through the murky fields in Reno's own hateful gaze against him. He sees tendrils of the familiar though - recognizes that there are more layers to this bully than Roland has ever voiced out. Though that's to be expected, Roland reasons silently; people who are first to meet basic decency with wanton violence are broken souls in their own right. It doesn't make their wrath any less seething, doesn't justify the pain they inflict on others more innocent.
And it's this claim of innocence really, that drives Reno now. Roland doesn't flinch at the accusations, won't show him a crack or slither of emotion. Stone-faced despite the sudden closeness where he has to glance down against the bridge of his nose so he keeps Reno within his line of sight. Listen to him babble on about misplaced fault, that Roland was the one who made it worse. Here he thought Reno couldn't be any funnier about this whole mess; no, this is the cherry on top. He could laugh, if he was the type.
Instead, Roland let's him finish speaking. Let's his venom pass over him, thick and full of spite. Roland allows only a beat and a half to come over them before he cuts through the fog with a low voice, rumbling through his chest and throwing a glare that could stop the time if he so desired it. Such is his determination if he willed it. Takes a step back when Reno lets him go, but doesn't stammer in his stance.
"Don't flatter yourself." Roland says coarsely. "How could you possibly say that when you have no idea who I am? You don't know me." Neither was it Reno's choice to call it as such; that they were even remotely alike in the manner in which they operate.
"You can say all you want about that day, how you think it's all my fault. That I wanted this to happen to the extent that it did. It's all fluff. You don't even believe that, not really." How could it be possible for his voice to drop even lower? Stuck in a world where he's got Reno right in his sights. A leader spurned; a father in absolute defense.
"Don't lecture me about being the bigger man when the burden to rise to the challenge was never ours. It was a call for you and no one else's. You, who cast the first stone, who drew his weapon first. The one who had no intentions of letting Inigo leave peacefully until you made him suffer. And guess what, Reno? You missed the shot. You screwed up. It's about time you owned up to that."
sorry. i was trying to think of a better response but--
To be honest, Reno wasn't sure Roland had it in him to kill one of the passengers. He hadn't seen Roland kill anything other than his pride so he didn't know if the guy was even capable of it in the end. But the words struck out anyway, sounding right to him, a taunt covered in some inkling of truth.
Then he laughed. "Come on. You think that I'm denying I struck out against my assailant? That I wouldn't do it again? I know what I said--I'd finish the fight. I'd teach you two a lesson you shouldn't forget." A hand came down on the countertop to balance Reno as he leaned over the barrier again. "I can own up to my shit if you can own up to yours. Hell, I can do it without that. Did I draw my weapon first? Sure, after I got punched. Would I have beat the shit out of the kid and left him to lick his wounds? Absolutely. If he couldn't hold his own then he shouldn't have started something."
Reno pushed off the countertop and turned his back to Roland as he walked a few paces away. His arms stretched high into the air and then he put them on the back of his head as he turned back to face Roland again with that annoying little smirk.
"You should have minded your own business and let me finish mine. It would have ended a lot easier if I wasn't interrupted."
haha no worries, you do what you gotta do
He's by no means a person who thinks himself too ideal to do a job that might require a bit of shadow work; having done the same thing for Evan back in Evermore. Fooling friends to get to a bigger goal in the end is still part of his moral code, the end can justify the means and all.
But the one thing Roland would never succumb to was to kill another person for the sake of a task. He can't imagine it. He won't even try. It's so against the fiber of his being that the thought alone reels him back, strikes a chord of disgust inside of him. Would he kill to protect Inigo? To protect Will?
He'd rather die for them.
But regardless of how Roland feels when Reno throws him the sentiment, he doesn't rise to the bait, keeps to his corner by the other end of the train car and merely watches with clear eyes as the redheaded man saunters, his bravado displayed and his peacocking finished. He tries to study him further. Narrowing his gaze to see beyond the words, the act, the violence he flaunts as naturally as he breathes. It makes Roland wonder if part of his job back in his home was a lie - or if it was something more than actually doing public defense. The suit should have been a tip-off, having lived most of his adult life in one or being protected by his own security. There really was more to this man than he let on, but at the end of the day, Roland's patience wears thin for the excuses.
It didn't matter anyway. His admission of guilt is clearer than anything else Roland needs to hear; it's something that no longer requires his extended understanding or concern. Reno chooses to be this way, regardless of his conditioning or what he's used to. No one was exempt from their freedom to decide, and Reno is wasting his agency on this. Causing pain, needlessly. Choosing to continue a cycle of violence his own hand began.
Roland grips tightly, a hand balling into a fist though he hides it well underneath the counter.
"Oh yeah? Then how about you and I just make new business right now?" Roland replies, steely and resolute. Keeps his eyes on Reno's roving figure, unafraid.
He'll never forget it. The blood on Inigo, the pain in his voice. He was still trying to get stronger. There was time left, yet. So till then...
"Seems to me you just don't know what the hell to do with your aggression. So start picking on somebody your own size." He uncurls his fist and raises his arms slightly, wide breadth as if in beckoning. "The next time you think beating up kids or bullying them because you're in a bad mood is a good idea, you're free to come find me instead. You won't need to hold back. Go crazy."
For as long as Reno's hatred and anger is on Roland, then that meant Inigo would be free from his shadow.
still not happy...with this tag...but... here it is
His arms dropped away from his head as he shifted his weight to his other leg. He was grinning at Roland with that dark amusement glinting in his eyes as he stretched an arm out towards Roland and pointed at him. "You're on."
He laughed again, his hand dropping from its point and clutching at his stomach in his laughter instead, like he was just too amused by this. In a way, he was. Just not a very good way.
"You sure you're ready for that? 'Cause it sounds to me like you're signing your death warrant of your own accord. Not feeling suicidal, are you? Wouldn't want to hurt that pup of yours. Pup! Like a dumb dog!" He laughed again and it was clear at this point that Reno was past the point of mere amusement. He was pushing it, forcing the glee and laughter out in waves that served no purpose. Lost in it.
"You want to sacrifice yourself for some dumb kid," the redhead started and suddenly his laughter had stopped, the deeper, hard-edged tone returned in whiplash quickness, "be my guest. I'll be more than happy to take you down, bitch."
we can do it! i say from the future, after they ~not!bond~ over metaplot and get soft!
But all he needs to do is to remember. A smaller him, smaller than anyone else. The only reason he was made to suffer so young, until he decided he was worth more than this. That his mother deserved more than his sadness, his tears. Taking up the sword, fighting back. Reno would have his day, and then some. Inigo would stand up too, on his own two feet, to take him on for his own retribution. Roland would not be the one for it. He'll defend him until the day comes, but not now. Not by his hand.
With that, he finds the steel in his voice again. Meets Reno's eye, crazed as it is, with a resolute edge that comes naturally. Reno didn't scare him. No, this was too easy now, he can read him like a book.
"Scary." He says, neutral and dry. "Of course I'm ready for that. After all, what president wouldn't dream of putting themselves first for their people?" And as if it makes sense to taunt him this way, he reaches over for the cup of coffee that was once offered as an olive branch. Raises it to his lips, but not before - "What father isn't ready to stand for their children?"
He smiles. Drinks from the cup and downs it in one go.
ahahaha XD
"You're not tough enough to be the president of anything," he said as he made a dismissive shrug with his whole body. "Can't imagine you'd get very far with that endeavor."
Reno only had experience with two different presidents (neither of them of a country but rather of a cutthroat business). The first was a hard worker but had very little care for the people beneath him once he made his company the largest in the world and practically ruled it through the power and influence of that company. The second was the man's son, who while much more suave and charismatic, was also still tough and cold on the exterior, willing to do anything to keep afloat. Granted, Rufus wasn't anything like his father and time had proved there was a more gentle nature to him beneath the cool demeanor. But still--
Reno was stuck in the past at the moment. Where it was easier, simpler times, and cruelty kept the company in business. He shouldn't have been. He shouldn't have wanted to go back to that--it's not what anyone wanted after Meteorfall. But it was easier and nostalgic. Both of which were unfortunately quite addictive.
"Too sentimental. You're nothing like what makes a good boss."
Funny how he could say that now when in the past he had leaned towards the opposite. Roland had seemed capable, resourceful, and responsible enough to garner trust. Sadly, Reno had felt too betrayed to keep that trust--it had shattered and broken, much like his own care for anything around him of late. Too tired or too lazy to pick up the pieces, he merely let them lay on the ground in a ruined mess. A mess that was surely going to hurt him--or someone else if he started flinging them around like sharp little edges meant to prick and cut those he felt earned his ire. Too bad he pushed everyone away so often he had no one left to help him figure it out and start to pick up the pieces bit by bit.
Not yet anyway.
no subject
So there's nothing Reno can tell him that will hurt, nothing that will get him to flinch when it comes to this.
"Besides, who said anything about being a boss?" He wipes the rim of the cup emptied out, going about the business. But meeting his eye then, a challenge of silence, of attrition. "I'm a president. A king. Bosses answer to me. Believe it, or don't. It won't change the truth."
look, he's just a homesick puppy...
That was just one factor of his argument but did he dare think about the end. Shinra's end. No, not an end! Reno was still determined to help Rufus Shinra rebuild the company and see it lifted up high again. It would happen. He had faith.
"You're nothing like President Shinra, that's for damn straight sure, and whatever little company you run can't compare. Shinra ruled the entire world. And I work with the best operatives they have to offer. Right next to the president. Like I said, you're nothing like the boss. You're not nearly good enough to compare."
d'aaaw reno. also sorry about the late, i had a whole issue with my notifs ><
He realizes then and there how strange Reno truly is, shifting from violent outbursts in one minute, then nuanced fondness in the next. It's become almost impossible to tell, when one would start and the other would end.
"I guess I really am nothing like him." He repeats, flatly but lacking in any other tone or lilt. Still, he's not who he is if he doesn't stay say something cheeky about that either; if he wants to pull rank, he's happy to play the game. "After all, I never said I was president of a company. Not really into business, and you could say I've...moved up." He offers a shrug on one shoulder, confident again, undeterred, before his set-up begins to distract him again, cups not in place and counters needing to be wiped down.
"Anything else you wanna throw my way, hot shot?" If the conversation on protecting his train son was anything to go by, he was ready to defend till the end. But as it stands, it seems Reno was already tapering down himself, and whether or not he was going to take Roland's offer to spar to let out steam, Roland's not retreating from it.
bad notifs, bad.
An over exaggeration by a small point. But it was hard to distinguish that from the way Reno acted. It might have all sounded ridiculous from his flamboyant and over-the-top manner right now. Would it have sounded any less ludicrous had he been in a better mood? A more somber demeanor in his expression and tone? That was only for someone else to decide.
Reno didn't seem to care if he even thought of it. It was true enough in most regards. It was only his last sentence that was untrue--and only in-so-much that the title was unofficial. Shinra might as well have held such a title anyway with how the world worked back then. The company ruled the world with its power and influence. It's army. And the people followed right along with its rhetoric. Because Shinra provided so much comfort and convenience. Why fight against something so good to them, so useful; it was already established in their daily lives, no one thought anything of it.
Never mind when that all came crashing down. That wasn't apart of the equation right now. It's not what Reno was establishing in his short tirade.
"So no, you don't add up. You're nothing like the President. And you don't have what it takes to take me on." You can't control me were the unspoken words heavily implied nevertheless.