mostly open

[ka_sera_sera]

Who| Roland Deschain and the Signless; Roland and you
What| nothing big, just roland waking up
Where| central commons, district twelve, district four
When| week five, a little bit after Roland's death
Warnings/Notes| no warnings that I know of. I hope the way I did the prompts is clear, but if not just have your character meet Roland anywhere.


The room Roland wakes up in is well familiar by now. The worry he wakes up in, though, that's new, and for a moment it shoves the more normal questions of where and when and what into the back of his mind. He wakes with Alain's name on his lips, already half-sitting up and looking around - but no. Alain isn't here, is he. That wolf is dead. Killed before it could do Alain any damage. This does not mean that Alain is safe.

He lets himself fall back, runs a hand over his jaw and stares at the ceiling. But there is nothing he can do for Alain, not anymore. His old friend will be interesting enough to bring back after this arena, or he won't. Roland steels himself to this, to the waiting, and then sits up, breathes. Heads out.

The lobby of this building is as busy as it usually is, newsmen and hangers-on and sponsors, people in all manner of outfit with all manner of things to say. It's strange after the isolation of the arena, life and movement all of a sudden everywhere, and for a moment Roland simply stands near the center of the room, not caring whose way he's standing in. (A)

After that he makes his way to the bar, spends some time leaning on the counter even after he's gotten his coffee. Just looks around, less focused on whether he accidentally makes eye contact with anyone (though that ought to be a real concern on this particular level of the tribute tower) and more concerned with stirring in a good amount of sugar. More than he'd usually use but, though his body is refreshed, Roland's mind is still certain it's spent the last few weeks sleeping badly, and it isn't as if this place doesn't have the sugar to spare. Witness Roland Deschain, indulging himself. (B)

Once he's got a better feel for this place he heads up. All the way up, almost, and doesn't bother to explain himself to any residents of district twelve who may see him wandering around there. He peers into the common room, the kitchen, then heads to the mentor suites and opens one of its doors with nothing more than a brief, brisk knock. This particular room is one he's been in many times, and the way in which the Signless has it decorated is intimately familiar. The most familiar part of that room, though, is missing, and Roland still does not bother to explain himself as he heads back out of it. Surely anyone living on this floor will be familiar enough with the sight of him. (C)

Finally, to the level for tributes of district four. Given all the floors are arranged the same and the avoxes quickly clean any identifying clutter, there's little reason for the familiarity that greets him here. But the fish in their little bowls all around the common room are familiar, the view outside is familiar. He spends a moment in just standing there and then snorts to himself, more focused on his thoughts on that familiarity than on explaining to anyone who may be around to hear. (D)

(closed to Signless):
The tea sitting in the kitchen cupboards too, thankfully, is familiar. There's more coffee up here, but he's made tea so often in this room that that is where his hands first head, and he lets them. That is, until the metal teapot slips out of a loose grip, bounces off the counter, and clatters onto the floor.

"Shit," he says, and the frustration in his voice is not at the noise nor at the spill, although he does watch the water spread for a second, lifting up his right hand and running his fingers under the small metal box sitting where his lack of fingers used to be. The skin there is red and inflamed, and the hand's two mechanical fingers don't curl as the other ones do, instead sticking out from the metal all still and stiff.

Comments

[ka_sera_sera]

"Why can't you?" His tone here is not a challenge. Without context it'd sound like an idle question, inconsequential. Only curious. "Your philosophy - which I haven't heard in full, I grant you - accounts for change, doesn't it? That seems the whole purpose of it. Not the change of a man's essential nature but a change in which parts of it he cultivates. Your philosophy isn't a fine piece of glass, lost forever the moment it breaks. It can't be, or it never would have gained such a following in your own world. I'd be very surprised if more than a couple of its followers never broke that vow after taking it, especially given what you've told me of the lives many of those followers led. Can you think what might've been if they'd had as little regard for that philosophy as you do? But I doubt you think of it in that way. Perhaps you've forgotten just how violent change can be, even when its goal is peace. Maybe especially then."

"Signless, a gardner does not cultivate his garden, walk away from it, then declare it ruined beyond repair the moment he sees a weed. He does not love his work because he expects it to be finished. It seems to me you've forgotten that, see your vow only as a set of rules which must always be followed. I might call that disrespectful, I might call it arrogant - but what do I know? Any others who've failed that vow but repaired it, lived that philosophy and died in it, what do they know either? Certainly not so much as the one who taught it to them. Perhaps all of us've got the nature of your philosophy all wrong. I'm sure you know it best."

Roland arm, as he speaks, loosens a little from around Signless' shoulders. It's still there, but he's ready to let go should he need to. One doesn't say the things he just did without being prepared for some sort of reaction.

[69problems]

It stings to hear, and Signless is more or less sure that was the point. He doesn't push Roland away but his mouth does tighten into a thin black line. His hands ball into fists but he forces them to relax again almost instantly. He's not angry at Roland, he's angry at whatever disconnect in his own logic is making this so hard.

"It's not..." Not the same? But how isn't it? True, he never expected any of his followers to take a vow. He never expected them to adhere to the same rules as the ones he set for himself. But if they were still living by the same ideals that informed those rules... he raises one hand and rubs at his temple where a dull persistent ache is trying to take up residence.

"I never expect anyone who followed me to take or keep that vow, but they all looked to me, Roland. I had to be their example. I had to hold myself to a higher standard to show them it could be done." His voice sounds very small. "I know that's no excuse. If it's arrogant of me..." Selfish. Uncaring. Self-centered, destructive, blind-- but he's past that. He's worked so hard to be past that.

[ka_sera_sera]

For a couple seconds after Signless' fists have clenched Roland's rhythm - because there is a rhythm to this sort of talk, there always has been - falters, his calm, hard expression falls into plain surprise. This is the part where Roland's bondsmen usually fought in some way, with fists or words or even only their expressions. Found some way to remind Roland of his cruelty. He'd braced for that without even thinking about it, and like a boxer already bracing for some heavy blow, now the blow's failed to come Roland finds himself off his balance.

There's a twitch of Roland's fingers, a tightening of his grip around Signless' shoulders in the half-instant before he realizes Signless has almost skipped that stage entirely, is instead of giving in to anger or resentment, already really thinking about it. Which would make sense if Roland stopped and thought about it. He does not; too important to compose himself quick, fall back into the rhythm and the mindset to really look through Signless' answer.

"A little," he says, after a moment. "But so must every leader be, lest his men lose confidence in 'im. A man who's led even once never loses that, I don't think. Not quite. Signless, I'm not going to tell you there's no need to be an example here. That's not the real problem, is it? What I'm going to do is to ask you which example it is you ought to be. Your men and your women - those in the past of your world, any in the future of this one - have followed your ideals just as you follow them. Many of them fall from that path just as you fell, and have just as little idea as you do now how to get up off their knees and find that path again."

"If you would be an example, live your beliefs as they are. Live them as others must live them, tread on the same steps that they must tread. How can you show a man the way if you must take yourself where he can't follow?"

"I wonder what you'd have told a man in your old life who faced the same troubles you're facing," Roland says, thoughtfully. "I wonder what you'd tell him now."

[69problems]

How can you show a man the way if you must take yourself where he can't follow?

It clicks. Finally, finally, everything slots into place with an almost seamless clarity.

"I'd tell him exactly what you've told me. I'd tell him one violent act does not an evil person make, that to kill out of compassion is still in some small way good because it came from a good place. It's what I have told tributes here on occasion."

He can't condone killing itself, but he can understand why someone might feel as though they had no other choice. Nothing will ever make it okay and maybe that isn't the point. The point is moving forward and making sure that it never has to happen again.

"I have to stop thinking of it as a crime I need to atone for and start thinking of it as a reason to try and be better." He says it slowly, as though feeling out the words as he says them. "Is that right?"

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland watches Signless closely, still using the energy gained with that earlier coffee and sugar to focus his mind, trying to track the thoughts running over that expressive face. At the tone of that last, that slow question, Roland thinks he's found what he was hoping to and he smiles, the look slow and small and full of warmth.

"I can't give you answers, Signless," Roland says, slouching over against him and breathing a satisfied sigh against his hair. The fact that Roland was just doing that very thing, directly telling Signless how to think? Nevermind that. Roland does not consider it. That was guidance, that's all, and a very different animal altogether from actual answers.

Roland does not straighten or raise his head much, but before he continues the grip that's never left Signless' shoulder does give a little squeeze. "Only more questions. And if I'm lucky I can help you answer them. Does it feel right to you? It's your beliefs we speak on, your ideals. Your vow. Only you can tell me if your mind and heart are settled now in good accord with one another."

It would be fairly useful, he realizes, to be able to see Signless' face now, too. Nevermind. Roland can feel his posture, feel Signless' body against his, and hear the tone of his voice. No need to straighten up just yet. That'll be enough.

[69problems]

"I think they are. I think... I've been saying that I ought to move on and learn from what I did, but I never believed it until now. I was just saying it because I thought I might eventually convince myself of it that way, but my mind doesn't work like that."

He leans back against Roland, allows his eyes to slip closed, and just enjoys that closeness. This is what a pile is for as much as the difficult emotional discussions.

"Thank you," he murmurs, and for the first time since they started even his voice sounds peaceful. It's not as though he's taken down every single one of those many, many boxes he has tucked away in the back of his mind, but he's unpacked perhaps the biggest one. It's going to be a lot longer until that shelf finally snaps, and that's something to be thankful for.

[ka_sera_sera]

"Mm," he says as Signless begins to lean against him, squeezes Signless a little, and it's the last thing Roland is going to say for a while. Because he doesn't speak after that thanks, doesn't need to. Wouldn't tell Signless that he's welcome because this wasn't done as any sort of favor. To have a heart put in his hands for judgement is a responsibility rather than a choice, and an honor rather than any kind of job the Signless might now owe him for. You're Welcome does not apply here. 'Of course' doesn't apply, either, because it would be redundant to say it.

Instead Roland feels the buzz of caffeine and sugar in his veins, enough to keep him awake for another little while. He feels the warmth of that body against his, long wished for through that painful arena, occasionally dreamt of, and now here pressed close beside him. He nudges a little of that thick hair aside with his nose, enough that Signless might feel it when Roland presses his lips to the side of Signless' head. He lets the silence settle and settles himself in it, content to stay this way until long after any ache might begin to creep itself into his long, folded up legs.