( semi-open ) though it may hurt today

[gradenine]

WHO: Roland (gradenine) & some of you guys
WHAT: July catchall + event
WHERE: Vaults, then some formalwear shop (get in losers we're going shopping)
WHEN: The rest of July
WARNINGS: Major Ruina and Leviathan spoilers in the first prompt. Death, murder, the usual Project Moon warnings apply, probably. Please refer to his opt-out for more info.




art credit | plotting comment | event log
hmu if you want a starter!

Comments

a. it's true, people take things but rarely. (reserved for ones with prior cr)

[gradenine]

[ well, at least this new location holds promise - or at least that's what roland thought when he first entered the bank. but after riffling through empty documents and opening up cash registers to find nothing of note, roland lets out an annoyed sigh. another dead end, as per usual. when will this place give him something exciting to work with, already?!

luckily, he too is drawn towards the sight of keys, one of which just so happens to have his name on it. curious, he ventures into the faults, eyes scanning the deposit boxes until it lands on the one with his name, and when he puts in his key and opens it--

he freezes, his blood running cold at the sight of an all-too familiar pair of ebony-black gloves. at first he doesn't take them, choosing to stare at them in utter disbelief. didn't the hana association confiscate these gloves after they demoted him? he remembers that much, so why were they even here?

he swallows, gathers as much gumption as he can before he's stable enough to take the gloves. he has to take care of them now more than ever, but when he takes them out of the metallic box--

the memory is blurry, as if he's watching through a shaky camera. he doesn't remember the exact details, he doesn't ever want to relive it again -- and yet here he is, trudging through the countless corpses and debris the litter what's left of the streets of music. maybe he'd held on to the hope that angelica was safe, but there was no anticipating the first distortions this world had seen.

it was easy to identify her through all the mess; her long silver hair's the only thing that he can make out of the mangled corpse of his dear beloved wife. the fact that their unborn child didn't even stand a chance in this vicious world either... well, it's too much. simply too much for a man who just wanted to live an okay life. just the sheer sight of it all is enough to make anyone pass out in despair, but not roland. he carefully takes off the gloves angelica's wearing, put them on together with his mask over his tearful face, and goes to finish the Pianist all on his own.

the memory ends there, and roland screams in agony. even after the fault closes in on him and any other unfortunate schmuck who's now stuck here with him, he continues to scream until he collapses on his trembling knees, hands clutching onto the gloves that no longer cover her hands. ]

( ooc: hello! prior cr means people who had already threaded with roland as himself can tag this! that means cr made on the anonymous post he'd made a while ago won't count. that said i am willing to make exemptions, particularly the ones i made plans with on the plotting post beforehand, so let me know through there if you'd like to tag anyway! i just don't want this to be anyone's first time meeting roland like this, eep. )

b. out and about. (ota)

[gradenine]

[ it takes a a few days for roland to calm down after that. thankfully it doesn't take him too long; it's kind of like recovering from the couple of meltdowns he had at the library. he breaks down, then comes back up again. nothing to it.

he does make sure to keep his gloves in a safe compartment in his apartment for safekeeping, though. he's not ready to take it back to his deposit box, but he doesn't want to part with it either. but with how loose-lipped he's become since donning the gloves, it's safer if it leaves them back home for now as he goes out to do some well-deserved retail therapy.

but hmm. the shop he drops in this time - one of those boutiques that sell all sorts of nifty-looking formalwear - is promising? roland doesn't change out of his trademark black suit yet, but he's holding up five different ties, all in black, and tries to catch the attention of whoever happens to wander in here to look into the goods. ]

Hey, uh. Which one would great on what I'm wearing right now?

[ why only black, though? because he looks really fuckin' good in it, duh. ]

( july event )

[cranekin]

(The city is different at night. It's unlike any view he's ever really seen before. Pitch-black in places with lights that sparkle and shimmer like stars all around him. For an old spirit like him, it feels as bright as day among them which probably explains why he's sulked off to some empty restaurant with a rooftop patio for solitude. He's hard to miss considering his bright white attire. You could probably spot him from a mile away in the dark.

Of course, no one is working, but the kitchen smells like seafood and some slow, nondescript song plays a relaxing melody no doubt meant to evoke feelings of being by the sea in some quiet little town or something. This would have been a nice little place to take someone out for a quiet date in a bustling city. Maybe it was (if people were ever here). Maybe that's what it's meant to be (now that the city is filling with people).

Leaning against the black iron balcony rail, he looks out at the quiet city below... and then up at the moon. When he senses that he isn't alone anymore, he calls out whimsically,)

Do you think it's real?

(The moon? The city? Something else???)