Roland Deschain (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ka_sera_sera) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2015-10-14 07:48 pm
ka_sera_sera) wrote in thearena2015-10-14 07:48 pm
Entry tags:
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Who| Roland and Alain
What| bombs!
Where| western lowlands of the Medieval-Fantasy section
When| beginning of week 3
Warnings/Notes| none
Strange, this. There's so much that's strange here, and not a single bit of it that's natural - but you wouldn't know it here and now, in the middle of a field with a small fire in front of him, gentle wind blowing, noises of animals here and there around him. This field could be anywhere. The fact that Alain's here makes it even stranger - perhaps things are different for Alain, as he only has to look at Roland's face for evidence of just when and where they are. But part of Roland's mind keeps telling him that this must be a good two decades ago, two at least. Back in the days when he and his tet traveled, explored, slept under the stars together. Old men do often get caught dreaming back on their youth, on their good old days, but that is not what his happening here because things back then were not quite good. Not on the whole. But there'd been times...
Looking at Alain is strange. It's easier in the Capitol, in that tower in which the tributes are kept. With any of those surroundings, it's usually easy to keep his mind in one place. Here there's nothing but grass and sky around, the sparse but long-familiar makings of a camp laid out in front. An old, dead friend at his side. Roland keeps having to remind himself.
He catches himself frowning at Alain again, and breaks his own gaze by leaning forward and poking a stick at the unfortunate creature cooking over their fire. "This ought to be about done," he says and looks up toward the sky, into the distance. He isn't looking for anything. That doesn't mean, though, that he isn't going to see anything. He is going to see something in that sky very soon.
What| bombs!
Where| western lowlands of the Medieval-Fantasy section
When| beginning of week 3
Warnings/Notes| none
Strange, this. There's so much that's strange here, and not a single bit of it that's natural - but you wouldn't know it here and now, in the middle of a field with a small fire in front of him, gentle wind blowing, noises of animals here and there around him. This field could be anywhere. The fact that Alain's here makes it even stranger - perhaps things are different for Alain, as he only has to look at Roland's face for evidence of just when and where they are. But part of Roland's mind keeps telling him that this must be a good two decades ago, two at least. Back in the days when he and his tet traveled, explored, slept under the stars together. Old men do often get caught dreaming back on their youth, on their good old days, but that is not what his happening here because things back then were not quite good. Not on the whole. But there'd been times...
Looking at Alain is strange. It's easier in the Capitol, in that tower in which the tributes are kept. With any of those surroundings, it's usually easy to keep his mind in one place. Here there's nothing but grass and sky around, the sparse but long-familiar makings of a camp laid out in front. An old, dead friend at his side. Roland keeps having to remind himself.
He catches himself frowning at Alain again, and breaks his own gaze by leaning forward and poking a stick at the unfortunate creature cooking over their fire. "This ought to be about done," he says and looks up toward the sky, into the distance. He isn't looking for anything. That doesn't mean, though, that he isn't going to see anything. He is going to see something in that sky very soon.