nothing that'll really change your mind?
...has he ever mentioned to anyone the extent in which he hated the sound of his own voice? no no... in fact, had he ever made mention to how much he hated looking at his face? made to perceive his likeness after everything? the man behind the mask of stolen valor. even by now it's blocked his own perception yet the perfect copy of himself being before him like this.
it wasn't anbody here's fault— not at all. but he wished his vision wouldn't blur over. wish he wouldn't be filled with views of his own hands round his neck and— "you"
and he doesn't start off in his usual cadence at all. there's a rolling hint of frustration that abruptly halts the moment he continues his words. the switch up comes hand in hand with an empty smile. it's all he has left at this point;
"ahh~ a damn stubborn bugger, aren't you? why could i ever think to stop here." a vague gesture of his hand. "finished hitting up the middle not too long ago. next on the list mm.... i have many options. ohh, but i did find trail of something last excursion i took. i'll ride this real big wave while i still can," anybody here had optimism for a life that had long sailed it's course. there was nothing more for him to go on with doing that wasn't adamantly chasing lead to lead in hopes of finding the source.
why could roland ever think to tuck away this hatred? revulsion for the city and all that lay in it? he was going to be a father, you know? he had only scratched the surface of retirement. they had plans. dreams. goals. he had his wife. had. like, the past tense version of it. used only in specific cases but the one applicable here was the lost of a life that SHOULDN'T be dead.
does it get that here? it took his form. took parts of him. ah should know. should know what pushes him. why he cannot very well forget. move on. why he can't grieve. she should be here. she should be alive. should be returning home to her after the work he had to do. should be dealing with the various high and lows that he put so much effort into learning about in a six month period— he let himself love. let himself have a family when he knew what could come.
and he hoped. really... he was foolish to think, to express such emotions. he dreamed that the fate of being a denizen in this hell would not catch up with him.
his wife is gone. and so is he, he already lacked so much in many regards. his life was gone, so how could he think to do anything else but lash out? cause a bloody path behind him in the search of the culprit?
"after all, i'm still not done. as long as i am here, then it means, i've not completed what i'm looking to do, yeah?" and this wasn't even the full of it.
