Characters: Roland and House; Roland and anyone in the grocery store on Day 377
Location: Building 144
Date: Day 377
Summary: Two open prompts:
A) Roland wants as many people to like him as possible, for reasons. Can he win the favor of his constituents? Stay tuned.
B) Roland has a pet only he can see. It's awkward.
Warnings: Shouldn't be any.



A

[As Roland fills his bag with whatever he thinks will last him, he wonders how many times he'll need to start over like this.

How many times could a person be expected to rise out of the grave with their strength intact? He thinks this won't be the last time he'll need to get used to having nothing, if he ever does return to lord over the smoldering wastes that was now his kingdom. Maybe he'll be even less lucky there; having to seek out clean water in hot ash, searching for the first sign of life that wouldn't opt to finish his botched assassination.

At the very least, it was fortunate he hadn't needed to worry about that, here - not yet, anyway. On the contrary, Norfinbury, on the whole, seemed rather receptive to his identity.

Satisfied he has enough to live off of for awhile, Roland hoists his bag back over his shoulder. Before he left, there was something he needed to do. Having a stocked store in town meant that it could act as a sort of hub: aside from the people he had arrived with, there had to be others here. And he knew well that it was in his best interests to be liked.

Roland scouts the area for new faces, cautiously rounding the aisles and approaching anyone he sees slowly, with a straight back and a soft smile on his face.]

Hope I'm not interrupting anything. I've been meaning to introduce myself.

B

[Now, here's a common trapping of parenthood Roland can say he's never had to deal with. As he finds what is objectively the most appealing egg-washed bun on the shelf, he feels an urgent tug on his pant leg - it's Runcible, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, drool prickling at the corner of his hungry mouth.

Roland sighs; the pickings had been rather slim until now, especially for Runcible, who has been forced to sift through his crumbs. He knew that higgledies ate, but did the embodiments of nature really need human food? Did they just like eating? Martha isn't around to ask, but it wouldn't be fair to deny Runcible his request.

He's not embarrassed of Runcible, but for all the apparent nonsense that fell out of his own mouth on occasion, he wasn't ready to have the "I see fairies" conversation with the people of Norfinbury, yet. He discreetly addresses his fae friend:]

Just a sec.

[He is careful to check if the coast is clear before ripping the bun apart, though it's possible a person might arrive just in time to see him drop a large piece rather purposefully on the floor. It bounces away from his intended target and lands a few feet away, where his invisible friend scrambles to chase it. Roland shakes his head surreptitiously, but with some alarm, when the bun is hoisted off the ground.]

Hey-

[He points to his feet, where he thinks there will be less of a chance the bread will be noticed disappearing into thin air if someone rounds the corner.]

Not there. Get over here.

[Runcible obeys, but carries the bread over his head as he putters across the aisle, making the whole thing rather obvious. Roland's fingers rub at his eyes in disappointment, before he lifts his gaze to see if they have been caught.]

[[Note: If your character is a child or young teen, Runcible will be visible to you. If you're not sure, feel free to ask me!]]