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
...Roland's been playing plenty of pretend, recently. An indulgence he's not had time nor the chance to dive into in years. What if he keeps going? What if he continues to dive deep, with Inigo in hand? They deserve to lose themselves in it; the dream of better days to come. Inigo, most of all.
He breaks the silence with a thoughtful hum. The biscuit in his hand breaks apart in the coffee, but he pays it no mind. When he speaks, he's aware of what he's about to say. The danger of it, the idea that he might be staking a claim to something he has no control over. But it doesn't matter.
"What if you and I started something together?" Roland says, holding his cup as if he is about to take a sip, meeting Inigo's eye with a light side glance. "A charity. Or an organization. Once you get acquainted with things, of course...Technology and all that stuff." He drinks, but the taste isn't bitter enough to distract. "We could make a place where kids get fresh starts. A place to belong. You're already so good with people."
It sounds vaguely like a promise. What was Roland doing? Was this not the same scenario which made Yuki's departure all the more painful for him? Unkept words left to rot in the back of Inigo's heart, never to be fulfilled? He doesn't know what strikes him then, but Roland tries to chuckle it off, shakes his head and sets the mug down a little more carefully than he should have. Too quiet, as if in apology.
"I'm being silly. I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..."
It's a half-hearted sentiment. Roland can already see it, if he closes his eyes long enough. Inigo would be fantastic at welcoming them, kids of all ages, of all walks of life. So much love in his heart to share; so gentle in all things he does without losing the fire that makes him so worthy to rule should he want that too. But this kind of dreaming can hurt him, so Roland retracts. Just in case.
no subject
Inigo shakes his head. Having finished his own cookie, he uses his now freed up hand to gently put it on top of Roland's. Like trying to gently pull the older guy's attention, make him look at him.
Because Inigo gets what's going on here. He knows exactly why Roland suddenly stops, hesitates, apologizes. It's so obvious from what they discussed only a few days ago now. Inigo's heartbreak. The future he had envisioned then falling to pieces. He still recalls it now, the things he fantasized about back then - going to college together with Yuki, something he had absolutely no idea about other than what Yuki told him, but felt stoked about all the same. Waking up in bed with the other, seeing Yuki's face first thing while opening his eyes. Seeing all the sights Yuki had talked about.
Roland is trying to prevent it, isn't he? Trying to keep Inigo from hurting more. Trying to prevent unfulfilled promises from piling up.
But.. what's the alternative? Just never hoping for anything? Never making connections, just so it won't hurt when they're broken? Inigo couldn't live that way. His heart is much too big to not feel for other people, and he'd be miserable by himself anyway.
Maybe he should take a risk here, even if it may hurt in the long run.
"Please.. talk about that. I want to hear it. I like hearing about it." He smiles. It's not too wide, which makes it look like he isn't faking it. But it's warm, kind - even hopeful. Because he dares to hope. Wants to hope, even under their current circumstances. "I want to think about a future like that. With you, father."
He wants to at least think about being able to be happy. A future spent together with a father by his side. With a little brother. An unknown world, but one Inigo is willing to learn about. An opportunity to find a new place for himself somewhere, but not having to do it by himself. Isn't that all Inigo ever wanted? Maybe he's just desperately latching onto any chance he gets to have that, but.. is that so wrong? Is it wrong to want to find happiness where he can get it?
"Besides, I.. I like the sound of that idea. I mean, it's exactly what I've struggled with for so long." What he's still struggling with a little bit, but less so as the idea of this future becomes more and more concrete in his mind's eye. "Not feeling like I belonged anywhere. If I could help other kids from not having to feel that, if I could make them smile.. Then I'd be so glad."
no subject
The sentiment is what makes it easy for Roland to say what he does. The smile on his lips plays easy, though his gaze is far away and distant. Fingers that graze against Inigo's grow slightly firmer, holding on. "It'd be a foundation for children. We'd give them a place to grow up safe, where they get the education they deserve. With plenty of room to explore, discover what they're good at, who they are. And - And Inigo, you could teach."
It's so vivid, even when he closes his eyes.
"I'm sure they'd all be drawn to you anyway. You're so cheerful. You could tend to the gardens and teach them what all the different flowers meant. Or if you wanted, run the dance classes. They'd love it." It would take their mind off of the real world, still too harsh even in an idealized version of it. Roland chuckles breathily. "You could do whatever you wanted. Be whoever you want to be."
He strokes the rim of the coffee cup with two fingers, the veil of illusion lifting l. But the mood it leaves behind is precious and lovely, so he keeps quiet. Roland lets it settle in the corners of his mind. An Inigo free of it all; free to be anyone, free to laugh and smile without hiding pain. Inigo, who can finally rest, who can finally belong. By their side. Was that selfish?
Roland lifts the cup to his lips, and sips.
no subject
"Well, I'm.. not sure yet who that is yet. The person I want to be."
Isn't it similar to what he talked about before with Tidus? The other telling him he could just start anew, do anything he wants, be anything he wants. An overwhelming possibility.
(Briefly Inigo wonders if Tidus may would like to come along too-- especially if the other is going to be separated from Yuna either way even once he'd go home. But then again, maybe Tidus would rather go back to try and find some way to get her back to her. Inigo wouldn't blame him, and quickly pushes the thought aside for now.)
"B-Besides! I'm not too good of a dancer at all, father, I certainly don't think I should be running any dance classes!" Inigo figures Roland must be imagining that sort of thing because of the knowledge about his mother being a dancer and all - so he certainly must not let the other guy catch on to the full extent of his hobby, it's too embarrassing! "But.. um, the idea of it all is fun."
He smiles at Roland, genuinely meaning it.
"Do you think Will may want to learn some things too?" Listen, he's definitely already going to make the biggest spot possible for the boy to fit into this idea of the future too.
no subject
He tries not to think about that too; Inigo's stolen innocence, or the fact that this has already come to pass. Inigo in many ways, has already surpassed Roland in that regard of being forced to grow older, so much older, just to survive...But if they were playing pretend, imagining better days, why not go all the way? What would be the harm in sharing that dream, over a cup of coffee?
He reaches over the basket for his own biscuit, which he tears into right away while glancing over at Inigo, one elbow leaned against the countertop. "Hey now, it's not about perfection! It's all about how much you feel the dance, right?" Or at least, that's what people tell him. It's what he's listened to in interviews, or as he patrons the arts. He may not be as creative, but he's always ready to support talent where he can. "So as long as dancing can make you happy at the end of the day, then that's all that matters. And I'd always be a willing audience member. Front row seats!"
Roland bites into the biscuit again, more peckish than he realized. He allows himself to linger in that feeling of joy as he continues to project Inigo pursuing his dreams, his passions, growing up...before his mind eventually wonders about Will. He doesn't grow somber exactly, but it does make him grow slightly pensive, as if he's really thinking about it.
"...Theatre." Roland pipes up, small nods to motion he's made up about this. A certainty. "That boy's going to get into theatre. He loves stories so much. Reads all the time."
Nevermind that he reads because that's all Will can do. No, his son's illness will not be a part of their imagining today. Not yet.
no subject
And then there's the more complicated one. The moment you realise you're an adult.. But isn't that something Inigo already realised a long time ago? Maybe not at first when his whole world shifted, when he had to fight to survive, but as the years went on, Inigo knew he was an adult, despite his age. He was doing things the adults normally would've done. That's not a discussion he wants to have either though - at least, not right now, not while they're sitting here with coffee and thinking of happier things.
So when Inigo does speak up, he just grins, saying: "Theatre?" There's a hint of surprise in his voice, but it's good surprise. The kind that makes him smile.
"That's so great! We had plays where I come from too, you know. I saw them all the time when I was younger." Though obviously different from the kind of theatre Roland may be used to, but close enough still that Inigo can grasp the concept. "I would love to see him do that. Theatre is such a great thing. It can really bring smiles to people's faces."
no subject
"So what kind of shows did you watch as a kid? What was your favorite?" Roland asks, eyes slowly growing wide as he readies himself to imagine it. Whatever Inigo will describe, he knows he won't be able to help his mind running amok with scenarios. And how often did he get to be on the receiving end of Inigo's own experiences? He's ready to hunker down and listen to Inigo recall parts of his past, savoring it and committing it to memory.
no subject
But for his father? Inigo would do anything, even trying to convey experiences from his past.
"Um, basically anything that stopped by the palace.. Most were a little too complicated for me to understand, since I was still so young, but even then I really liked just watching it. Looking at the colours of their costumes, the way they spoke, how much passion they poured into it.. It really amazed me when I was a child. They seemed like heroes to me, to be able to bravely go up there on stage and do such a thing."
no subject
He had a similar perception of actors and movie stars, at Inigo's age, first exposed to this artform. Just knowing they could be free to be who they wanted to be, acting absorbed into the roles, having fun and telling stories with words, with movement, song and dance. It intrigues him to this day. Fascinates him to the point where he's always been so attracted to the personalities who live under the limelight.
"Brave, huh?" Roland's smile is wider than its ever been. "They sure are. Can you imagine how often they have to act in front of so many people all the time, without missing even one line? It's great." But also, a mental image that occurs to him just as fluidly as theatre and acting; Roland reaches out to pinch Inigo's cheek once before his hand falls back down, rests on his lap. Gosh, can't blame a train dad for feeling this way about his grown-up train son!
"Heh. You as a kid...I bet you were real cute." He manages to say these things without sounding like he's kidding because he's absolutely not, and no one can stop him from trying to picture Inigo as a toddler, small as he's hugged by his mother. He adds more to that, anticipating Inigo's reaction. "You were never invited to act out a skit or two with the theatre companies? Like an improvised scene?"
no subject
He doesn't even know what to say to Roland's idea of his toddler self. How do you interact with your dad about things like these, Inigo has zero idea! So he's just.. carefully choosing to ignore that statement, instead focusing on the question the man asks after, which makes Inigo shake his head.
"Though even if they had, there is just no way I would have dared to. I was a very shy child." You know, as if he still isn't a shy child in very many ways.. Though he's definitely better than what he used to be like when he was younger, having had to grow up as fast as he did.
"I would often very literally hide behind my mother, especially when there were strangers around. I only dared to watch those performances since they didn't pay attention to us as an audience while they were performing a story. Not to mention that mother always let me sit on her lap."
no subject
Those were better days really, compared to the horrors they'd both be facing in the years to come.
"I knew it." He says, definitively. No questions to be had about it, just the truth of the matter as it spills from his lips. Hands that warm the emptied mug of his drink come back to pinch both Inigo's cheeks now, gently, not enough to cause him pain or discomfort. Affection spewing forth Roland because the paternal feeling comes so naturally to him, he doesn't know how else to put a stop to it; doesn't even know when it turns on or off with Inigo around. "I knew you'd be super cute. You're older than Will, but I think I could have juggled two of you."
(Nevermind that he could barely be a father to one-
- no, not the time for reality. No time for that now, in this perfect enclave between kindred spirits looking to repair families they could not fully save or have.)
He doesn't let up on the pinching.
"What about puppet theatre? I always found that gave the best of both worlds. Performing, while hiding backstage. Wanna try it sometime?"
no subject
Does Roland really mean that? Inigo can't help but worry he's reading too much into it, but just those words are enough to warm his heart. Just the thought of Roland including him so naturally with his actual son, his biological one. The one he's known for much longer than the kid he only met on the train a few months ago. Like Inigo really is part of Roland's ideal fantasy of having a renewed life back home.
He's entirely unable to put his appreciation for it in words though, so instead it only transfers to a blush on Inigo's cheeks as he speaks up again.
"Puppet theatre? Don't you think I'm a little too old for that now, father?"
See, now it's easy to assume the blush is just since he's embarrassed about that, and not because he's incredibly touched. Nailed it.
"I-- I mean, I did it a few times with Owain, but that was just since there weren't many better ways to entertain the young children!" You know, in the middle of a post-apocalyptic hellscape where everyone was slowly dying and turning into zombies.
no subject
"Hm. I don't think you are. If you're too old for it, what more me, right? Heh." See, he'll give you that easy win! Low hanging fruit for teens to enjoy! But he's having fun with the idea, recalling just how much he was able to flex his imagination when he did it as a kid.
"But I mean it. I don't see why we can't enjoy it as grown-ups. Why not? It'll just be your hands and voice on stage too. Hey, we can even make our own! Have you ever tried making puppets using socks?"
Yes, because he has no skill in sewing, doesn't have the dexterity and gentle fingers Inigo naturally has as someone more creative than he lets on. But sock puppet theater? Now that's an idea he could get behind. Roland's eyes slowly widen in mirth, already considering what sort of items they need for it, how to acquire them.
no subject
Inigo isn't too sure how to feel about all this. He sure isn't initially as enthusiastic about the idea of sock puppet theater as Roland is, but..
That's exactly the thing. Roland is excited about it. And not even just a little bit, oh no - the light in his eyes, the way he talks about it. It's not something he's never seen from Roland before, but it still feels relatively rare enough to treasure it.
So in that case? Of course Inigo will go along with this. It takes a moment of staring at the other, but then he continues: "W-Well, I'm still.. practicing sewing.."
So that's a no, but more a 'not yet' than a firm no.
"I've started trying to sew some cute little dresses for Jumblie, since I thought she might like them. But it's still harder than I thought it'd be."
He raises a hand, rubbing the back of his head. Thinking.
"But maybe sock puppets would be easier..?"
no subject
If Inigo thinks his initial reaction to sock puppets was enthusiastic, hearing more about Inigo's exploration into the exciting, colorful new world of needle and thread earns him an even more heightened feel. As soon as Tidus mentioned that he was trying to get Inigo into more hobbies, Roland found himself on the lookout for what might help him explore new passions. Expand his horizons.
"Is it - are you working on dresses right now?" Roland asks earnestly, leaning closer in. The sock puppets are of course, still on his mind, but this is taking precedent quite fast. Creativity isn't something he has in droves, so when he knows someone can play the role of an artisan, it's his sincerest pleasure to see them work. Or see what they've come up with.
"I'd love to see them. Maybe I can help. Or you can teach me again."
no subject
"Y-- Yes, I am! Though I'm getting the feeling your expectations may be a bit too high.."
But it's far beyond Inigo to deny his father anything, so he lifts his hand, and a moment later he's pulled what he's been working on out of the Arms Band he wears on his finger. It's definitely a higgledy-sized sundress, though obviously a first attempt at one. Functional, but the cut isn't perfectly even, and it seems to be sown out of tiny patches of fabric with different patterns rather than one big piece. Like a quilt.
"The train only gave me tiny pieces when I bought fabric, so I've had to try and make do.. But it definitely doesn't look nice enough yet to give to to Jumblie. She deserves the best!"
no subject
He swivels on his seat to study the patchwork more carefully, his hands lifted from his lap to try and get a closer look. It's rough in the edges but there are no frays in the fabric, and there's a delicateness to the way each portion was selected, one color masterfully bleeding into the next pattern in a way that fits. It's nothing polished for certain, but Roland can appreciate it for its charm nevertheless. The small dress in Inigo's hands was made with love, with a concern for what looks good. He's never seen such a kindness granted higgledies apart from Aunt Martha, the grandmother of all higgledies.
Roland almost grins in how pleased this made him.
"To be honest," He adds, as he moves about to look at the little thing in other angles. "The only expectation I have from you is that you're enjoying yourself, doing all these new things. Are you?" Roland glances up, makes a gesture to borrow the dress so he can see it even closer. He's thoroughly impressed and it's not a fact Roland is trying to hide. Not even his earnest words that may not mean anything to Inigo, but they don't lose honesty regardless. Roland just wants Inigo to be happy, and that's truer than it's ever been before. Even with things like this; in making small dresses for a gifted higgledy.
"Anything that comes from your hard work is already the best. Jumblie's going to look the belle of the ball. I just know it."
Coming from him the way that it does, Roland already thoroughly believes what he says. (He does make a mental note to look into helping Inigo out here, either by buying better material, or maybe even a small sewing machine? He could branch out! He's definitely creative enough.)
no subject
It takes just about all he's got to try and formulate an answer to the question Roland asks.
"Ah, well.." It's a good question, after all. Is Inigo enjoying himself? It's something Tidus spoke of before, after all, wanting to help Inigo find hobbies, find ways to enjoy himself..
"I do like sewing so far.." He sounds honest about about that, though a little shy. But his voice trails off in a way that implies there's a little more, and he dares to only peek over at Roland as he continues. "It's just.. I feel kind of bummed when the end result isn't as good as I wanted it to be."
Especially when he's making something that he's planning on gifting to someone else. He really wouldn't want to give them anything but the best - even when the recipient isn't a person, but a higgledy.
no subject
"I guess the only advice I can give you is to keep going. When you practice and hone the skill, you'll eventually get so good that suddenly, the dress you want Jumblie to wear is precisely the dress you've made at that moment. Does that make sense?"
He resumes the easy flow of conversation, encouraging Inigo while relaxing in his presence, leaning back an elbow on the edge of the counter. They should do this more often, talks over tea or coffee and getting to know each other in simpler ways. Moreso now that he's discovered Inigo's latest attempt at a new hobby, one that he seems to like! He could definitely buy him something, for certain...
no subject
Although he wonders how long it'll take him to reach that point. Or if he'll ever reach it in the first place. With how little confidence Inigo has in himself, it's easy to feel like he'll never be as good as he wants to be. But even so - he's not going to give up just yet. He wants to keep trying first, if not just for Jumblie's sake.
Having finished his drink, Inigo puts down the mug, giving the older man a small smile.
"I guess I should get going again for now. I can't hold up the whole.." He started so confidently! But remembering modern words is hard, and he vaguely waves his hands, as if they'll make up for his clumsiness in the words he speaks. "The whole.. coffee.. place.. shop? Either way, there's bound to be more customers!"
Don't think he's forgotten the roleplay!! It's something that seems to make Roland happy, so there's no way he could ever full on forget it.
He stands up. "Have fun, father. I'll see you later today for dinner?"
no subject
He stands when Inigo does, hand on his hip. "Yes sir. I'll be there."
Inigo's constant checking up on Roland has paid in dividends when he says what he does with such natural casualness, finally born only out of habit more than gentle prodding. He nods to him before taking his place back behind the counter.
"Thanks, pup. Go on, now."