to view the last of me a living frame

[popkins]

Who: Roland & Anyone Expecting Mail???
When: Early August
Where: Kauto R1,2,3,4,5
What: old Gunslinger lost and confused. I will match style!
Warnings: grumpiness and weird speech


A man who looks an uncertain amount of old is at your door. His pale blue eyes are intense, unsettling even to some, but no more so than the two revolvers in holsters against his thighs. He looks like a cliché out of an old western movie for those familiar. His wide brimmed hat is worn and faded just like the rest of him right down to his ancient looking boots. The man holds out a package for you: maybe it's that new toaster you ordered, maybe it's a returned letter, maybe it's not even yours and you can choose to argue with the armed man.

As for the courier, Roland had never had a real job, not in so much as he was now faced with. His own job had been to carry the weight of Mid-World and lay it at the feet of the Dark Tower. Now, he was supposed to carry parcels and lie them at the feet of their purchasers? Roland had been given an address and had found it, and been given letters and packages and told he was expected to deliver them. Roland had said no but the clerk asked him what else he was going to do and ...having no response, he took the parcels and moved on.

After this one satchel full he would put this job behind him but if there was ever a man duty bound it was the Gunslinger. Roland was lost in this futuristic world (actually to him it was very, very ancient but time on Mid-World was...complicated). He had been a creature of his place in the universe, in-tune with it, with the beams of the world, with all the old tales, the stories in the stars and all the sad people striving to exist in a world which had moved on.

Kauto hadn't moved on. It was overly alive, busy, like a mutated hive where all the bees are crawling all over each other and none of them remember how to make honey or where their queen is. Roland felt like one of those bees too, he thought with some dismay. He remembered white bees, mindless, bumping into one another. No honey for us tonight, he had told his friends.

"Is this you?" Roland asked, pointing to the label on the parcel.

Comments

[popkins]

The voice maybe gives him a clue but Roland is otherwise clueless to the gender of this individual. Again, blonde hair, he thinks to himself with some discomfiture. He frowns heavily at the answer to his question and he looks down at the Earthen alphabet (so he thinks of it as).

Roland looks up again. "Is this the proper address for the parcel? Do you know of this person listed here?"

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

"Ah no. It's the right place alright." J confirms while taking another look at the name Joseph Kavinsky that's written underneath the address. Well, there's really no other way to put this.

"He's dead."

[popkins]

"He used to live here," Roland muses more to himself than to the blonde. His fingers clutch onto the package as he pulls it against his sternum, reading the label again as if it might somehow change to having a different name on it. He lets out a small huff and tilts his chin up, looking at her from under the brim of his hat.

"And no family to be had here, is that so?" He wants to ask if she's the wife but if she was surely that would have been stated upfront.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

"Hah!" The suggestion makes J scoff out a dry laughter, which sounds more like raspy cough. It's both hilarious and sad sentiment. Only few people are (un?)fortunate to have their families with them here and to think that Kavinsky would be one of those few is quite.. unsettling thought.

"Nope. No one like that. So I guess you came here for nothing. Sorry to say."

[popkins]

Well. What the hell was he supposed to do now. This job which he fully intended on doing for exactly one day hadn't given him any training. There hadn't been a reliable courier service on his own world in decades. In his childhood such a parcel would be left with a servant, as anyone of lesser stature wouldn't likely be getting anything they couldn't find in their own town.

Roland gave a low hum from his throat before he looked back up at the lady, having convinced himself by now that despite the raspy voice she was a lady.

"Had he any servants I might leave this with?"

Sorry for the late!

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

That suggestion manages to draw out actually a smile and another laugh out of her, but this time one that's closer to actual genuine one. "I wish," she whispers and shakes her head. It'd certainly would've helped her a lot if her previous lover would have gotten some cleaning staff, one way or another.

"It's just me. If you want I can take the package from your hands."