adregem: (a lightheartedness that comes with age)
Roland Crane ([personal profile] adregem) wrote in [community profile] 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! ]
flatteries: (and i'll find strength in pain)

[personal profile] flatteries 2020-12-06 12:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Safe and happy, huh. Maybe that's a far off dream while they're stuck on this train that - whether purposefully or not - constantly does things to try and ruin their happiness. Constantly throws them into danger. But then again, it's not like Inigo's life back home had any less dangerous or painful moments, so he's used to it. In that regard, being here on the train may just be the safest and happiest he's ever been, relatively speaking. (Or at least the first time in a long, long time, ever since that distant past where all he had to do was be doted on by his mother and play with his friends in the flower gardens near the castle.)

"Why would I need to let you continue to do that..?"

He's mumbling, but still awake enough to be shifting against Roland, like he's trying to find the most comfortable spot for his head to rest on Roland's chest while he falls asleep.

"I mean.. you're the one doing me a favour by being my father. You don't need permission for anything.."
flatteries: (i'm just trying to stop the bleeding)

[personal profile] flatteries 2020-12-06 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
"Thank you.."

It's breathed out like a sleepy sigh. The words aren't adequate, wouldn't be even if Inigo was still more awake. How could he ever properly thank Roland for that? It feels like nothing will ever be enough to be able to convey his gratitude in return.

It does seem, though, that Inigo is properly falling asleep now. And apparently the good kind of sleep, since it's like all tension is being released from his body as he starts to finally sink off into sleep. Everything just relaxes against Roland as Inigo lies there.

The only thing that remains of Inigo's faint consciousness before it slips away is a very, very softly and mumbled: ".. love you, father.."