#you can rip spanish roman from my cold dead hands | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

holyfuckthisfishcandrive · 5 years ago

Text

Broken Glass Diamonds

Word count: 2943

Warnings: Minor Character Death, Blood, Google Translate Spanish

Description: Roman dreamt of becoming a hero for his entire life. Given a chance to fulfil his dream he joins one of the many hero organizations in an attempt to prove himself.

AO3

Roman remembered the first time he saw a super in action vividly even after all these years. He was five back then. Five and naive, with thousand dreams and wishes for his future. Astronaut, cowboy, actor, detective and, of course, like probably every kid his age, superhero.

But the first super he saw wasn't a hero. It was a villain.

The Dragon Witch, people would later call her. Whispering the name in fear that even just mentioning her aloud would summon her.

Roman remembered that they had been at a mall on that day. Mamá had bought them ice cream. For him Chocolate, for Remus Banana and as always they had let the other have a little bit of their own because Mamá liked it when they got along and the combination of both Chocolate and Banana was great.

He remembered almost running into a woman with a floral print dress and stuttering out a 'sorry' and then the glass ceiling collapsed. Shards of glass rained down. People screamed. The flowers on the woman's dress were shredded. New, red ones grew on the bright fabric and she fell to the floor.

Roman looked up.

A giant dragon landed in the food court. It had brown scales and yellow fire puffed from its nostrils.

Remus grabbed him and pulled him back behind a corner and they both peeked out from behind it. Remus didn't let go of his hand. Neither did Roman.

Mamá had told them to stick together if anything happened. To protect each other.

"Un dragón", Remus whispered and Roman couldn't tell if he was excited or scared. "Un dragón verdadero."

The dragon began to shrink and shift until all that was left was a woman with scales on her arms and face and wings standing in the middle of the broken glass.

A few people had fallen. A lot more were hiding just like the twins were.

The Dragon Witch said something. She spoke loudly but Roman couldn't understand her. She was speaking English and using too many words he didn't recognize so that even the few familiar ones sounded foreign in the mass of unknown gibberish.

"Donde esta mamá?" Roman asked. Mamá always told them what the words they couldn't understand meant but now Roman couldn't see her anywhere.

"No lo se," Remus shrugged.

A young man grabbed a roasting spit and ran at the woman with a shout. Her wing hit him before he even reached her. He was thrown through the air and crashed into the wall just next to the twins' hiding spot.

Looking back Roman was pretty sure that at that point he had been in shock.

The young man didn't get up from his position slumped against the wall. Something red tickled over the dark skin of his temple and from his lips.

Police sirens cut through the air suddenly, making Roman jump.

But before the policemen could make it into the building the woman had already turned into a big red dragon and as she flew up towards the hole in the roof thousands of coins and jewellery flew towards her like metal to a magnet and stuck to her body until she was fully cooper and gold. In a twisted way, it was beautiful.

Paramedics checked over the people and at some point, a blanket found its way over the twins' shoulders. They sat on the steps in front of the mall, still holding onto each other, neither having spoken a word since the Dragon Witch had disappeared.

"Donde esta mamá?" Remus asked quietly after a while. His voice shaking.

Roman looked around. There were many people on the steps, most of them crying a few looking for others. Then he spotted a familiar head of black hair pulled up in a bun.

"Mamá!" he called and tried to stand up but his legs gave out underneath him and he plopped back down.

She turned at his voice, spotted them and came running towards them.

"Roman! Remus! Estas herido?" she hugged them close, pulled back and frantically looked them over. "Oh, mis hijos."

"Nosotros estamos bien!" Roman told her and burried his face in her shirt.

For a long time, the three of them just sat there, holding on to each other. Roman wasn't sure when he and Remus had started to cry.

It wasn't a day he liked to think off. It haunted him. To this day, despite being an adult now, he felt anxious in malls and under glass roofs.

Over the years people became less afraid of the Dragon Witch. A hero showed up, calling herself Lauda and fought against the Dragon Witch time and time again. By the time Roman was ten, there were no casualties mentioned on the news anymore and his dream to become a hero himself was cemented even further. When he was thirteen his friends began to talk about how the hero and the villain should hook up and he told them that they were being stupid. A hero and a villain couldn't fall in love.

"Have you watched the news lately? They are sooo gay for each other!" Lauren laughed at him.

He hadn't been watching the news. At least not the fights. Seeing the Dragon Witch still stirred up too many bad memories. Mamá had sent him and Remus to a therapist a few times after the incident but hadn't been able to afford it for long. As soon as Remus and him went to school she had to make the choice between proper meals or therapy and she choose the food.

When the twins were fourteen they presented with abilities. Remus made the rat in the kitchen cabinet obey his every will and Roman burned bright and hot without ever burning himself. Mamá was proud of them, helped them figure out their abilities as well as she could without having one herself and whispered in that she had always known that they were extraordinary.

When Roman turned fifteen he started carrying out newspapers and picking up every job he could cramp into his schedule or that Remus hadn't gotten to first. He lost most of his friends during that time. Both of them did even if Remus hadn't had many friends, to begin with.

"We never hang out anymore!"

"Come on! Come to Henry's party with us! It'll be awesome!"

"You don't do anything besides working and studying!"

Roman always wanted to tell them that that wasn't true. He did have hobbies. He was part of the drama club. He wrote stories and poetry and even sew if you could consider patching up ripped clothes a hobby. He never did though and on Christmas Eve he realized that it was just the three of them again. Him, Remus and Mamá.

But he'd be a hero one day and then things would be different. They'd move into a nice house without mould in the kitchen that never got cold in winter because as bright as he could burn the house could burn too and he knew that that would mean their death, and they'd have a big meal for holidays and he and Remus wouldn't have to put their money together to buy Mamá a nice gift. He'd save peoples lives and they would love him for it.

So he curled up under his blanket, tried not to shiver as snow fell outside and held onto that dream.

Remus move out as soon as they graduated. He only let them know that he had gotten a scholarship somewhere but wouldn't tell either of them where and what for. He let Roman help him pack his bag, hugged him, gave Mamá a kiss on the cheek and then he took the next train to somewhere.

Roman applied himself to the nearest T.L.I.H. program.

"You really want to try out for being a hero?" Mamá had asked and looked so damn tired like she hadn't slept in years.

"Yes, and I will make it", he told her.

Mamá had sighed tiredly but smiled.

"It's supposed to be extremely hard", she just said as if he didn't know.

"I will make it."

When two weeks later a letter came telling him that he had been accepted to the program he couldn't believe it.

200 spots, over 35000 applicants and he had gotten in.

Of the 200 people 10 would become heros at most.

And Roman would be damned if he let this chance slip through his fingers.

He didn't have the money for a gym membership but he and Remus had found ways to work out anyway over the years. After the third fight you begin to learn how to fight.

The T.L.I.H. program started in October and for months Roman did everything in his power to prepare himself.

On October 4th, standing in front of the address they had sent him - a tiny hotel that didn't seem like the right place o train future heroes at all but maybe that was the point - he had nothing but a bag of worn clothes, a crumpled twenty, an old burner phone, an old notebook with a pen and his mothers blessing. His knees felt weak and he couldn't tell whether the nausea was because of nerves or because he hadn't eaten since yesterday.

If this didn't work out he'd have no back-up plan. The chances of being accepted to the program twice were lower than being struck by lightning three times, three years in a row on the same day while wearing the same clothes.

Failure wasn't an option.

Mamá was counting on him.

Roman pushed open the hotel door and made a face when it squeaked loud enough to ring in his ears.

The lobby was grey, lit by two neon lights. One was broken. At the counter, a teen sat, a few years younger than Roman and looked up from re-doing his eyeliner, obviously bored out of his mind. The kid looked like a stereotypical emo. Lauren would have been jealous of that eyeshadow.

"I'm here for the T.L.I.H. program", Roman told him confidently.

"Figured that much", the kid - Julian DiCaprio, according to his nametag - mumbled and his voice sounded slightly too feminine. "Name?"

"Roman. Roman Rodriguez."

Julian tipped around on the ancient computer keyboard, nodded to himself and stood up to get a key off the wall behind him.

"Follow me", he ordered and sauntered towards the elevator like he owned the place.

"I think I can find the room on my own," Roman tried but Julian acted like he couldn't hear him and pressed the 4 a couple of times until the button finally lit up.

"What's your shoe size?" he asked instead catching Roman off guard.

"My- My what?"

"Shoe size. What is it?"

The elevator arrived and slip halfway open. Julian slipped through the gap and Roman followed him.

"I don't know? 18, maybe?"

"Shirt size?"

"Wha- Why do you want to know that?" Roman sputtered. He had the sneaking suspicion the kid was going to make fun of him. He knew that his shirt was too big, damn it.

Julian looked him dead in the eye.

"Do you know how many people get in here just because they're rich? They are pretty good but they never would have reached that level without money. About 90% of the candidates are rich kids according to Mama. Do you know what they will do with you if you show up looking like this? They will tear you apart like chickens."

Roman was quiet for a moment.

"Chickens aren't threatening," he then said. "They only eat seeds and worms."

"Wrong. They eat anything. Once saw a few chicken tear apart a steak in under a minute. They are mini dinosaurs, those feathery beasts."

Roman frowned and looked down at his stained and torn jeans.

"Few years ago a guy showed up looking like that," Julian continued. "He was good. Could control gravity. Heart in the right spot. They drove him to attempt suicide within half a year. Mama doesn't want that to happen again so she makes sure that people like you get something presentable. If you don't know your sizes we'll just have to measure."

A tiny smile spread over Julian's black lips at the last few words.

"Do you like measuring out?" Roman asked.

"With guys," Julian said and the elevator finally came to a stop. "Most of you are ripped as fuck and I'm gay as hell."

Roman hummed in acknowlegement.

"How did you know I wouldn't beat you up for that?" he asked following Julian down the hallway.

Julian looked back for a moment, eyes wandering down and then up again.

"I have awesome gaydar. Besides, I doubt Mama would've let you in if you did that."

"Who is your mother?" Roman asked. She must be an important person to be able to make all those decisions.

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

Roman raised an eyebrow as Julius unlocked one of the many doors.

"Really? Quoting Vines?"

Julius shrugged and let Roman into the hotel room.

It was just as shabby as the rest of the hotel but warmer than his room at home and there were no bugs so he could deal with it.

"Here's your key. I'll just go and get the measuring tape," Julius told him and disappeared again.

Roman watched him go. When he entered the elevator again Roman went to unpack his stuff, as little as it was and called Mamá to tell her that he had made it safely. She always got anxious when it came to anyone using the subway and he didn't want her to drive herself crazy.

Julius came back a little later, made Roman write down whatever he measured, took the paper and studied it for a moment before doing that thing again that Roman was pretty sure was Julius' way of checking him out.

"You like floral prints?" he then asked.

Roman shrugged. "I've never worn anything like that."

Julius nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'll get you a few things to try. You can just pick out what you like then. Oh, and before I forget, dinner is at eight on the second floor. There are signs, so you should be able to find it just fine."

Roman glanced at the clock over the door. He still had over an hour. Taking a seat on the bed he pulled out his notebook and began to write. For almost half an hour he wrote and rewrote, completely sunken into the story, before someone knocked again.

He opened the door to Julius and another young man who looked a bit older than Roman. Roman found himself staring at the left half of his face that was a lot darker than the other. Both were carrying two bags each.

Julius pushed past Roman and set the bags down on the bed, his companion doing the same before checking his phone and cursing.

"Fucking hell, I'm gonna be late," he sent a glare over to Julius. "This is the last time I help you with this stuff!"

Then he hurried down the hallway.

"Sorry about my brother. He's trying to start a company or something and really stressed lately," Julius told Roman. "Anyway. You can try on this stuff if you want to, the things you don't want you can just bring down to the counter. If I'm not there just put it under the key wall, okay?"

He didn't wait for an answer and closed the door behind himself forcefully.

For a moment Roman just stood there, stunned, before he slowly moved over to the bed.

He picked out the first shirt and pants he found and pulled them on. A black shirt with red flowers and dark jeans. It fit perfectly. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and realized with a start just how different he looked wearing it. He looked like a damn model or something, with his muscles faintly visible and the rolled-up sleeves. The fabric was soft against his skin.

He looked handsome.

Roman looked through the other bags, looked through all these nice clothes and wondered just how much money Julius had spent on this stuff. He couldn't find a price tag anywhere but guessed that it must've been at least 200$.

So, he brought it back down to the counter.

Julius was painting his nails as he came down and raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong with them?" he asked.

"I can't take this."

Julius' eyebrow crept higher.

"Why not?"

"This stuff is worth a fortune! I could never pay you back for this!"

"You're not supposed to," Julius said calmly and checked if the paint on his pinky was dry. "Look, just take it. It's a gift. No one ever teach you that you're not supposed to give gifts back? Now go back up. Dinner's soon. And don't you dare leave the clothes here."

Roman wanted to argue but Julius sent him a glare and he gave up.

"Fine, I'll take it."

Part of Roman had expected the dining room to be full of others like him but when he came down a few minutes before eight the only other people were a punk couple and an old lady.

A young woman distributed potato soup with sausage at a small counter. Compared to the rest of the hotel it was completely clean here.

Roman ate, watched the punks flirt for a bit ("I'd dismantle the government for you.") and went back up to his room, where he soon fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #dragon witch #my writing #background deceit #background virgil #you can rip spanish roman from my cold dead hands #all the world will bow down series

5 notes · View notes

magical-gays-au-fanartfunart · 5 years ago

Text

Chitty Chitty Crash Bang Bang

Summary: Superhero AU- In which Virgil worries over Roman & we get to find out what happened to Remus.

Ships: Logicality and Prinxiety

Warnings: Yelling/Arguing, Parent/family.... issues, running away, brief physical violence, pain/injury (its like a Super reoccurring theme here), death mention, concussion mention/discussion, (Ro may or may not have lasting issues), roman’s pretty good at avoiding talk of doctors or like, anything, crying, probably poorly translated Spanish...

Tell me if anything else needs a warning!

Words: lots. (I give up.)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - ^ - 8 -

They were yelling. The muffled sounds hardly discernible from his room. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t feel it. Each shriek only made his stomach drop even more.

Stop yelling.

He should turn on his music.

Stop yelling.

He should do Something.

Stop yelling.

Shouldn’t he be down there? Playing mediator like he does far too often now.

Stop yelling stop it stop stop STOP.

A door slammed. Roman froze. Front door. Not a bedroom door. He scrambled up to look out his window. A figure with a well worn backpack and a stained, putrid green hoodie he’d always hated, stalked down the street, retreating from the house. It was like a weight was thrown on his chest.

Roman scrambled down the stairs.

“Let him go,” his mother yelled from the kitchen, voice stained with something close to tears.

Roman turned to look at her, frowning.

“He’ll come back, mijo. Let him blow off some steam.”

Roman curled his hand into a fist, shaking his head, not trusting himself to just get into a screaming match of his own. He darted out the door, slamming it behind him.

He vaguely registered his mother calling after him. She didn’t even call Remus back. She let him storm off and didn’t even- no no she was just mad. She was mad, he was mad, and people make dumb decisions when they’re mad.

His breaths slammed against his chest in time with his feet slamming against pavement. “Remus!”

Remus began to shift from a brisk walk to a full run. Roman raced to catch his brother- he was always just a bit faster than him, just enough. He had to be just fast enough. He had to. “Remus, stop!” He gripped the handle of Remus’s backpack and yanked.

His twin yelped as he was thrown backwards and narrowly missed being entirely thrown to the pavement. Roman huffed as he caught his breath, eyes wild and wide as he stared at his brother. His crying brother.

Remus ripped himself from Roman’s grasp, “Leave me the hell alone.” Remus huffed, voice scratchy and rough.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your damn business!” Remus all but screeched, shoving Roman back. “I don’t need you to play hero! I’m not the damsel in distress, get the hell out of my way!”

“I’m not trying to-” Remus’s fist collided with his jaw. Roman swore, slipping into a fighting stance out of instinct as he gingerly brushed over his tender jaw.

Remus’s breaths came in ragged and sharp. Fist curling in on itself, nails digging into his palm. “Don’t. Just. Don’t. Don’t follow me. Don’t pretend to be sorry. Don’t pretend I belong.”

He wished he’d protested.

That he’d followed him anyway.

That he’d punched that grim little smile right off his face.

Something.

Instead he just watched his brother shake his head and walk away. Instead, he stood there telling himself the same broken logic his mother had used. He’s gonna come back. He’s just gotta blow off some steam. He’ll be back. And it’ll be fine.

It’ll be fine.

-Now

2 years later.-

“Aw, you can call me Kate, no need for formalities! Hey, I’ll even take ‘Mom’ if you’d rather!”

“Mom,” Virgil hissed at the woman who looked exactly and nothing like her child with her brightly colored pink pixie cut and pastel sundress with a black punk jacket hanging on her shoulders, the shoulders and lapel adorned with a small trans flag patch, several buttons and a small gold floral pin. She shared her kind, tired eyes with her son, although she clearly had a few years of laugh lines on him. She was clearly taller than her child, and if she tugged him into a hug right then and there, Roman was sure Virgil would fit perfectly under her chin.

They fit. In their own odd way.

Roman smiled. It felt a bit easier to breathe for a moment.

Kate hummed, gaze flickering over the boy in front of her. She clicked her tongue, “Poor dear- Did anybody clean you up even a little? First thing you’re doing is taking a shower.”

Roman blinked, “Um-” He blinked a few times as Kate began to turn back towards her car.

“I hope you like pizza. Are you allergic to anything at all?”

"Um. No.”

”And what about milk?” Virgil said. There was a flicker of a glare in his eyes, but it was overshadowed by a smirk and a gentle shake of his head.

“That’s an intolerance, not an allergy.” Roman waved a hand dismissively, “Totally different!”

Mother and son made the same skeptical sound.

Roman really hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Really. It was just, after they settled in the car- He was exhausted. It was like a switch flipped after he sat down again. And watching the road flicker past was so calming. And Virgil was still talking to his mother, and he was already nodding off and really the only thing left was to let his heavy eyelids fall. He woke up to soft mummers and a gentle brush of a hand on his shoulder. Heavens, did everything hurt this much the first time around? His head was killing him.

“Hey,” Virgil whispered, and really, what business did he have being so gentle?

Roman’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton. He hummed in acknowledgement, eyes reluctant to open, it seemed. Or- oh wait. Never mind. He could see now. …Was that something he should like… be worried about?

“Up an’ at ‘em, Sleeping Beauty,” Virgil’s hushed voice continued, and Roman’s vaugely aware of pressure on his shoulders and a step down.

“Sorry,” Roman muttered, and he wasn’t exactly sure what for yet.

“I don’t mind. You can keep sleeping once we’re inside if you need to.”

Roman took in a breath and ended up nodding somewhere along the surprisingly short walk.

The next time Roman woke up from another dreamless state, he was smothered by a blanket far too heavy to be considered normal and it really wasn’t helping the process of waking up. There was a tap of a keyboard that seemed to echo around the room. Something was cold and wet on his head. The typing stopped. Virgil was putting back on fingerless gloves when Roman finally sat up and looked at him.

Roman blearily looked down at the cloth that had fallen off his head. “Oh.”

“You ‘kay?”

“No, I’m Roman,” he mumbled, lips flickering up a little.

Virgil rolled his eyes, settling on the edge of the bed.

“It’s really dark in here,” Roman whispered, without really meaning to.

“Good, ‘cause it’s apparently helpful for concussions and stuff,” Virgil whispered back, because that’s what you do.

“Oh so I got a concussion now?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Did you put up that black-out blanket for me then, or like, have you always been allergic to daylight?”

“You’ve discovered my secret,” a smile already on his lips, “I’m a vampire.”

“Well hell, here I thought you’d sparkle.”

Roman jumped a little as a creature hopped up from under the bed to onto it. The newcomer rubbed her body against Roman’s side. He froze, suddenly tense and unsure. Virgil’s eyes flickered over the other. He smiled, deciding to focus on his cat.

“Speaking of vampires,” Virgil snapped his fingers, and the cat pranced over to him, allowing him to pet her, “This is Buttercup.”

Roman nodded, watching them.

“How do you feel?” Virgil asked. The hushed tone still lingering in his voice. “For real.”

Roman shrugged, “More tired than I thought, I guess.”

He shifted and smiled as Buttercup passed back over towards him, purring loudly. “Hey lovely lady,” he whispered, rubbing the cat’s head. He glanced up at Virgil, “Sleeping in the car probably made every single bone in my body scream in protest, though.”

Virgil swore, “You don’t have any like-”

“Bleeding? Broken bones?” Roman placed a hand on his chest, leaning back into the pillows of the bed, (the cat following him down and standing on his chest) “Oof. Ouch. My bones.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, how would you know I’m not dead?”

Virgil shoved him in a way that was so gentle Roman wasn’t sure he actually touched him.

“Seriously, do we have to like, take you to a doctor?”

Roman shook his head, “I’m okay. I promise.”

“All you need is ‘(not)’ and you’ve got my favorite song.”

“Oh, you can’t be serious!” Roman makes an effort to sound affronted, and Virgil smiles like he holds all the secrets of the universe. Buttercup chirps, and the boys giggle, because the world’s just a little steadier now.

“It’s fine Dee! No, I don’t- I’m fine. Estoy bien! Oh my h- Sí claro! I’m staying over at a friend’s, ok?”

Roman raised his hand to mimic the ramble from the other end of the phone. Virgil smirked in return, despite his focus being on how Roman’s movements were a little more tired and sluggish than normal. He’s tired. He gets to be tired. Heck. He should be tired. Didn’t stop Virgil from worrying about it.

“Eres un pesado, ¿sabes que, sí?” Roman snorted, “What! I’m just saying- Yeah, I hate you too.”

Virgil nestles his head into his arms on the table.

Roman sighs in defeat, and mimics Virgil’s posture, pouting as if to make a point to the other, “Ok, I will. Don’t kill anybody over it, I’d be terribly distraught-” Roman practically freezes.

He swallows, but it doesn’t clear the waver in his voice when he utters, “¿Qué?”

“What?” Virgil whispers, brows knitting together, leaning forward.

Roman glances up at Virgil and shakes his head, “No, Re- um. No. No creo que le vi.” Roman takes in a heavy breath, “¿p- por qué?”

An uneasy smile crosses Roman’s face and he nods, “Ok. Um- I better go, V- my friend’s mom promised to get us pizza. See you later, ok? I feel like I haven’t seen you for forever. Kay. Adiós.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nada, I-” Roman let out a huff of a breath, “Dee just wanted to know if I- saw somebody. It- It doesn’t really matter.”

Virgil shifts to sit up better, nodding, “Um, okay.”

Roman leans back, rubbing the nape of his neck, "What's the emo do on days like this anyway?" Virgil knows a subject change when he sees one, and he sighs, smiling, "I mean- what do you do? I don’t usually have- People. Over." Roman grins, “What’s your opinion on Disney?”

The speaker crackles on the other end of the line when it answers. “Hey DeeDee! Pleasure or Business?”

“I hope you have an explanation for yourself Remus.”

“Ah, skipping the pleasure going straight to business, I see how it is.”

Dee sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Where are you?”

“Where I always am DeeDee. Hanging with Choco and Loco, between Nowhere and Noneof Yourbuismess.”

A point is made with silence.

“Fine, fine. I’m in town.” The line crackles. A vague sound of movement, like the rustle of a bag, “Did you know Mama y Papa aren’t home?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Dee shifts the phone to his other ear, leaning to the side, “No idea.”

“Why you lyin!” Remus shouted into the speaker. Dee forced himself to relax his shoulders. Remus sighed exaggeratedly heavily into the phone, “Fine, don’t tell me. How long have they been out? I can’t imagine they’d leave their favorite son all by himself too long now.”

“Remus, do you know what happened?”

“Maybe,” the line crackled in a way that almost sounded like a giggle, “enlighten me.”

Dee leaned back against the door frame of his room, “That’s the clearest confession of guilt out of your mouth if I’ve ever heard it. You’re aware Roman could’ve gotten killed, yes?”

The line falls silent.

“Oh, nevermind, I’m sure you thought about it. What am I saying?” Dee glanced at his hands, checking his nails.

“Do you want to know what his new little power is or not?”

“So that’s what this was about,” Dee said, a gentle smirk crossing his face, “Please. Do inform me. It would be nice to know.”

116 notes · View notes

izzyfandoms · 6 years ago

Text

The Robot and The Snake

Chapter One

General Taglist: @quillfics42 @ajdraws0430 @phantomofthesanderssides @creativity-killed-thekitten @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game

Taglist: @todefine-istolimit

Warnings: Mild violence, zombies, sympathetic Deceit

Ships: Lociet, Moxiety, Remy x Roman (QPR) and background Emile x Toby

Masterpost

Being a superhero wasn’t anything like Logan Abbott had thought it would be and, for that, he was very grateful. He was never really one for theatrics.

Thankfully, the rest of his team were dramatic enough for the job – no matter how adamantly Virgil liked to deny it.

“Zombie!” Roman – aka the Siren – shouted, gloved hands on hips as he yelled at the lab coat-wearing man stood at the other end of the room. “Come over here and fight us yourself, you… mad scientist wannabe coward!”

The Zombie was their sworn nemesis – a tall, silent man clad in neat black trousers, a plain shirt, and a hooded white lab coat, with a gruesome zombie mask that covered his whole face, revealing only his cold brown eyes. He crossed his arms as he looked over the four superheroes currently fighting for their lives against the horde of living corpses that the villain had just summoned.

Roman ducked as three more zombies leapt at him, swearing under his breath in Spanish and unsheathing his shimmering sword, slicing off one of their heads and grimacing slightly as a splash of corpse goop got onto his sea-themed super-suit. A drop even landed in his dark brown hair, staining his locks, though, luckily, he hadn’t yet noticed, or he would have thrown a fit.

“Aww, come on!” He pouted, flicking his wrist and causing a nearby pipe to burst, controlling the water and letting it flow out and wash away about a third of the zombies. “It takes ages to wash this thing!”

Roman would feel guilty for making a mess of the bank, but they were attempting to save it from robbers, so he figured that made up for it.

“Priorities, Siren.” Logan, aka the Robot, said monotonously, teleporting away from a zombie’s bite and reappearing right beside Roman, running his fingers through his dark blond hair, green eyes narrowing. Luckily, the creatures’ bites weren’t infectious, like in the movies, just painful. “We need to get to his sidekick; he’s probably breaking into the vaults as we speak.”

Roman immediately spun around, frantically eyeing the rest of the room, his brow creasing when he realised that the Zombie’s sidekick – more commonly known as the Snake – had disappeared whilst they’d all been distracted. He then turned to where Patton and Virgil (the Butterfly and the Ant, respectively) were battling against the rest of the horde. The Ant was using his super strength to toss dozens of zombies to the ground and stomp on their skulls with his big black boots, and his fiancé, the Butterfly, levitated above them all, using his powers to control groups of various insects to distract and attack the zombies so he could shoot them with his crossbow.

“Hey, little brother!” Roman shouted, getting Virgil’s attention. “Get to the vaults; I think Snake’s there. We can handle the zombies.”

Virgil glanced back at Patton, who gave him a small smile and a reassuring nod, before turning back to his bugs. Virgil then yanked out a knife from his boot and impaled the skull of another nearby zombie; killing one of them was basically the same as killing a human, though the Zombie could resurrect the corpses again whenever he wanted to. The Ant then wasted no time and shrunk down to the size of… well, an ant. They all lost sight of him immediately after that, but he presumably ran off in the direction of the vaults, to stop the Snake.

The Robot then teleported over to the Zombie, though he made sure he stayed far enough away that the villain couldn’t lay a hand on him – a single touch would leave Logan powerless for another 24 hours at least. That left Patton and Roman to take care of the rest of the walking dead alone, though they could handle themselves. Those were the Zombie’s two powers (raising the dead and removing superpowers), making him a rather formidable enemy. They all had two superpowers, though none of them knew why, or where they came from.

“Why are you here?” Logan questioned cautiously. “You’ve never robbed a bank before; do you really need the money?”

The Zombie remained silent – he never spoke, and his mask covered his entire face, the hood of his lab coat covering his hair. There was no way to tell who he really was, not unless they ever got close enough to unmask him.

After another moment or two, the villain’s head snapped to the side, Logan immediately following his gaze, and they watched as a small yellow snake slithered into the room, dodging fallen corpses and zombies’ legs, stopping at the Zombie’s feet. It then shifted into a tall familiar man in ripped jeans, a yellow hoodie, and a leather jacket, with a snake-like mask and a large, very full bag tossed over his shoulder.

“Let’s go.” The Snake hissed, eyeing Roman, Patton and Logan, and the Zombie nodded, taking the bag from his sidekick and then flicking his wrist, causing all of the fallen zombies to rise once again, overwhelming the three heroes.

“Oh, fuck you.” Roman growled as he ducked and slashed at the continued onslaught of living corpses. “Is this really necessary?”

The Snake responded by unsheathing a dagger and hurling it at the Siren, narrowly missing the hero’s skull as it embedded itself into the wall.

“Hey, don’t hurt him!” Patton exclaimed, and the Snake rolled his eyes at that, turning back to the Zombie, who gestured towards the exit.

In response, the Butterfly flicked his wrist and sent a horde of angry wasps towards the duo. The Zombie ducked away, lifting one gloved hand – the one not clutching the giant sack of money – to half-heartedly swat at the insects, but not a single inch of his skin was exposed, so he didn’t actually seem too bothered by that. The heroes weren’t even entirely sure that the Zombie was male, but he’d never corrected them when they referred to him as such, so they assumed they were right.

The villain then grabbed his sidekick’s wrist and dragged him out of the bank, leaving the gang of heroes to deal with the remaining zombies – though they’d luckily evacuated all remaining civilians early on in the fight. Fortunately, the dead would fall again when the Zombie was far enough away, but that gave the villains just enough time to escape, so it wasn’t really that much help after all.

Roman sighed, pausing for a moment to drag his hand down his face in irritation. He looked over the dozens of drooling zombies. “It’s a shame I can’t seduce a corpse.”

***

About an hour after the fight had ended, the four heroes had trudged back to Patton and Virgil’s apartment – having had to spend almost half an hour dealing with the police – and they were now tending to their wounds, complaining (and Roman practically sulking) about their most recent failure.

“I can’t believe we lost… again!” Roman whined, leaning back in his chair, his scaly blue and green mask tossed to the side as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The rest of his armoured super-suit matched his mask, and he also wore a stylish bright white jacket and white boots. “There’s four of us and two of them, how do they always win? We manage to defeat practically every other supervillain we come across, no problem! It’s been almost a year and we’ve never even gotten close.”

“Because we can’t get close to Zombie.” Logan said dryly, crossing his arms. His own armoured super-suit and mask were silver, matching the alias ‘Robot’ that Roman had given him, since Logan had basically refused to come up with one himself. The name didn’t really match either of his powers, but it was too late now to change it. “If he touches us, our powers malfunction, so we can’t exactly get close to him. Your seduction powers only work if you’re close enough to make contact with the target.”

Roman groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face in irritation. He then winced as that just irritated his injured shoulder.

“One of his stupid zombies bit me, too.” He complained. “I think that dead guy was an accountant, or something, he had no right being as strong as he was. It hurts.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “And I suppose you want me to heal that.”

Roman grinned, holding his hand out to Logan, who was sat on the sofa beside the chair. “Please do.”

Logan reluctantly took the hand in response, pressing a kiss to his friend’s knuckles, before dropping it and scowling slightly. “Honestly, what an irritatingly inconvenient way to heal others, any other method would be much more appropriate. I don’t appreciate having to kiss the foreheads of every civilian that gets injured in our battles.”

Just as Roman was about to respond, possibly with slight jealousy, Patton and Virgil walked back into the room, holding four large mugs of coffee, one for each of them. They both also still wore the outfits they’d fought in, though they’d removed their masks. Virgil’s armoured super-suit was unsurprisingly purple and black, his signature colours, with a matching hoodie that he always wore on top of it. Patton’s suit was pastel blue and pink, with two small metal wings secured flat against his back (for purely aesthetic reasons, he didn’t need them to fly). He was the tallest of all of them, with dark skin, black hair and large round glasses that seemed to take up most of his face, though both he and Logan wore contact lenses in battle, for convenience.

“Who wants coffee?” Patton smiled widely, and Roman sat up straight, eyes lighting up as he reached out to grab a bright red Disney-themed mug,

“Oh, god, yes!” Roman exclaimed, taking it gratefully. “If my little brother hadn’t snatched you up years ago, I’d be marrying you myself. Platonically – of course. Seduction may be my superpower, but romance isn’t really my thing.”

Patton giggled, sitting on the arm of the chair and taking a sip of his own drink. His own mug was decorated with multi-coloured butterfly stickers, and he also wore tiny earrings that matched. “It’s just coffee, Roman.”

Roman took a large gulp of his coffee, before sighing loudly and grinning even wider. “Patton you are a god in the body of a man. A beautiful, beautiful man.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, handing Logan one of his own two mugs and sitting down beside his best friend. “Stop flirting with my fiancé, Roman.”

“I’m not flirting!” Roman exclaimed defensively, hand over heart in mock offense. “I’m simply appreciating my future brother-in-law.”

“Yes, well, as truly fascinating as this conversation may be,” Logan said dryly, taking a small sip from his plain blue mug, before placing it back on the coffee table in front of him. “We need to find out where the Zombie plans on attacking next, and who he is, or we’ll likely never defeat him.”

Virgil leant back, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, okay, but how are we supposed to find him? We all wear masks. We don’t know their identities; they don’t know ours – that’s kinda the point.”

“Yeah, well, we should work out a plan to ambush and rip off his mask, then!” Roman exclaimed, gesturing dramatically with his hands, barely avoiding spilling his drink. “And, maybe, if we… I don’t know… kidnap the Snake, or something, we can use him as leverage to get to the Zombie.”

“Roman,” Patton scolded. “We’re the good guys, remember? We can’t just kidnap him, no matter how evil our nemeses may be.”

Roman sighed irritably. “Patton, the Snake alone has attacked us more times than I can count-”

“Not than you can count that high.” Virgil mumbled into his mug, ignoring the glare his older brother shot back at him.

“Anyway, as I was saying, the Snake’s just as bad as the Zombie in my eyes. In fact, he’s stabbed me more times in the past month than the Zombie ever has! We need to stop him just as much as, if not more than, we need to stop the Zombie!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “The Zombie’s the main villain here, he tells the Snake what to do, so our focus should be on him, not on his sidekick.”

“But the Snake’s much more dangerous!” Roman protested loudly. “As far as we know, the Zombie’s never hurt anyone.”

“That’s because he gets his zombies and his sidekick to do his dirty work for him.” Virgil corrected smoothly after another sip of coffee. After a short glare from his brother, he continued. “Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, Ro. The Snake is definitely dangerous, he needs to be stopped, but he does what the Zombie tells him to, so we need to take out the boss to actually win this fight.”

Roman sighed, giving in reluctantly, before absent-mindedly glancing up at the clock, his eyes suddenly widening when he noticed the time.

“Oh, shit!” He hurriedly chugged the rest of his coffee, slamming the mug back down onto the coffee table and jumping up. “I’m gonna be late for work. Virge, come on, we’ve gotta go.”

His younger brother groaned, putting his own cup down and standing up, stretching. “But you own the place, Ro, it’s your café, can’t we wait a little longer? We had to wake up at 4am and those zombies bit me, like, four times. I’m exhausted, man.”

Logan’s eyes widened slightly as he put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Virgil! Why didn’t you tell me you were injured? Here, just… just let me-” He leant over and pressed a lingering kiss to Virgil’s cheek, just to make sure it healed him fully, and his friend gave him a small relieved smile in response.

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Virge, we’ve gotta get to The Palace Café, unless you wanna deal with one very pissed off Remy – he’s not gonna be happy if we don’t provide his three morning coffees.”

Virgil sighed, stepping over to Patton and pressing a quick kiss to his fiancé’s lips. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

***

Logan had left for his own place of work not too long after Roman and Virgil had: the flower shop he owned – creatively named Abbott’s Flowers.

He was currently stood behind the front desk, alone – his other employees were all working in the back room. He’d been arranging a large bouquet for a regular client of his, an elderly woman who’d come to pick it up any minute now, when the door suddenly opened, and a familiar man with a short dyed white ponytail, tattoos covering his arms, and vitiligo on the left side of his face stepped inside.

“Janus, what are you doing here?” Logan blinked a few times in surprise, pushing the bouquet to one side as he stood up straighter.

“I’m between customers and I wanted to see you.” Janus explained, shrugging as he walked up to Logan, leaning over the counter and pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine – emotionally neutral, though slightly tired and perhaps a little nauseated. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

Janus snorted. “I wish you’d told me that before I kissed you.” His thumb lightly caressed Logan’s cheek. “But, seriously, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, really.” Logan said, taking Janus’s hand off of his face and squeezing it lightly, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “I just didn’t get that much sleep, that’s all.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” Janus raised one eyebrow.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know, you bring it up in every conversation we have. How are you, my dear?”

Janus shrugged. “I’m fine now that I’m with you. I had a bit of a rough morning.”

Logan hummed lightly in response. “Tough client?”

“Something like that.” Janus shrugged. “I mean, I just had a lady who wouldn’t stop talking about politics while I tattooed a rose on her thigh, but she was mostly just an annoyance.”

Logan snorted. “Yeah, well, that is a shame, but you should probably get back to work. Nate and Remy may accidentally burn the place down without you, so I suggest you get back.” Janus pouted slightly at that, and Logan continued. “Besides, I have a customer coming any minute now-”

He was interrupted by the front door opening yet again, the little bell above it ringing loudly as an elderly woman stepped inside.

“Oh, Mr Abbott, I see you’ve got my bouquet!” She cooed, beaming toothily as she strolled up to the counter and looked over her many vibrant flowers. “Oh, they’re so beautiful, I’m sure my daughter-in-law will adore them.”

Logan smiled softly. “You can call me Logan, Edith, and I’m sure she will, you chose well.”

“Only with your help.” Edith reached over and patted him on the shoulder, before only then noticing Janus leaning against the front desk, watching them with a slight smile. “Oh, hello! Who might you be?”

“Janus Belrose,” He held out his hand for her to shake, which she did enthusiastically. “I’m Logan’s boyfriend.”

Edith’s eyes lit up when she heard that, looking between them, her smile widening. “Oh, that’s just wonderful! Your name sounds French, is it French? How long have you two been together? Do you work here, too?”

“Yes, it’s French.” Janus said, giving Logan a short, rather amused look. “We’ve been together for almost three years now and, no, I don’t work here. I own the tattoo parlour next door.”

Edith hummed quietly in thought. “Yes, I do suppose the name ‘Janus’s tattoos’ should have given that away.”

Janus snorted. “Yeah, probably.” He turned back to Logan. “I should probably get going now – work awaits. Love you, babe.” He then pressed a quick kiss to Logan’s lips.

“I suppose I’m quite fond of you, too.” Logan responded smoothly, and Janus rolled his eyes in response, giving Edith a small smile and a nod before leaving.

Logan turned his attention back to Edith. “Now, where were we?”

***

“Hey, you’re late!” Roman pouted irritably, hands on hips as he glared up at Logan and Janus (Roman was the shortest of them all). “Everyone else’s been here for ages!”

Logan sighed. “Okay, I apologise, but one of my employees had to leave early, so it took longer than usual to close up.”

Roman still didn’t look too please, his eyes narrowed slightly, but that was probably just because he didn’t like admitting Logan wasn’t in the wrong.

Logan rolled his eyes, holding up a large bag of sweet and salty popcorn. “I brought snacks.”

Roman paused for another few moments, before snatching the bag from him, looking it over appreciatively. “You are forgiven.” He then turned on his heel and marched off in the direction of the kitchen.

The trio were currently at The Palace Café, having been invited by Roman for their monthly movie marathon, along with the rest of their friends: Virgil, Patton, Emile, Toby, Nate and Remy (Roman’s qpp). Last month’s theme had been Disney movies, unsurprisingly chosen by Roman himself, and this month’s them had been chosen Toby, horror movies.

“Ugh, zombie movies, really?” Virgil complained as he rifled through the DVDs that Toby had brought with him, half of them including zombies. “I hate those things.”

“Aww, come on, man, those are my favourites!” Toby laughed, snatching them back and continuing to work with the projector. “Zombies are great.”

“That’s coming from someone who’s never come face-to-face with the Zombie’s zombies before. I mean, seriously, they’re a little fucked up.” Janus piped up, flopping down onto one of the many beanbags that Roman had scattered across the floor.

“I don’t know…” Emile hummed. “I still think zombies are pretty cool.” He exchanged a small smile with his boyfriend, Toby, but everyone else gave him slightly confused looks. “What?” He asked innocently. “Toby’s been making me binge watch horror movies with him in exchange for the dozens of cartoons I’ve shown him.”

“I thought it was only fair.” Toby laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. “Trust me, he’s shown me a lot of cartoons.”

Just as he finished saying that, Roman kicked the kitchen door open, balancing multiple bowls of various snacks in his arms.

“A little help, please?”

Patton immediately jumped up, taking two of the bowls and bringing them back over to the large purple beanbag Virgil had settled himself onto, sitting down next to his fiancé and curling up at his side.

“Have you never heard of sharing?” Nate rolled his eyes, snatching one of the bowls – the one filled with popcorn – from Patton’s arms and stuffing a huge handful into his mouth.

“Are we gonna get this movie marathon started, or what?” Remy complained, running his fingers through his bright pink hair before putting his arm around Roman when the shorter man settled down beside him. “’Cos, gurl, I am getting bored, and if this takes too long then I’m just gonna go home.”

“Oh, calm down, Rem.” Toby rolled his eyes. “It may take some time to set up, but it’s worth it.”

Remy huffed loudly, adjusting his sunglasses, “Are you sure about that? Horror movies are kinda dumb.”

Toby gasped overdramatically, hand over heart. “How dare you! Horror movies are by far the greatest genre of film in existence, and you can fight me on that.”

Janus and Logan watched as a debate soon broke out between Remy and Toby (with the occasional added comment from their other friends) over the quality of horror movies and whether or not they were worth the time it took to set up the movie night – Remy got bored very easily – and they rolled their eyes in amusement at their friends’ antics.

“They’re basically children, aren’t they?” Janus mused, shifting so he was practically curled up at Logan’s side.

“Very much so.”

***

Many hours later, when the movie night had long since ended and the clock had passed midnight, the Robot was patrolling the city, teleporting from rooftop to rooftop to make sure that everything was okay. The four heroes alternated patrols every night, and tonight was Logan’s turn.

It was a relatively quiet night, and the silver-clad superhero had decided to take a short break, pausing to sit on the roof of an apartment building, legs dangling over the edge as he admired the stars up above. He absent-mindedly mumbled the names of every constellation he spotted out loud, lost in though as he admired the night’s sky.

“You talking to yourself again?” A voice suddenly spoke up from right behind him.

Logan’s eyes widened as he jumped up immediately, spinning around, his hand instantly perched on the sheathed knife on his belt. He let out a quiet sigh of relief and relaxed when he realised who had just snuck up on him.

“Snake.” Logan breathed, removing his hand from his belt and crossing his arms. “What are you doing here? We can’t be seen together, it’ll seem suspicious.”

The Snake smirked slightly, reaching out and lightly touching the Robot’s chest. “No one can see us from up here. You’ll have to think of a better excuse than that.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Okay, but we still need to be careful. If anyone finds out about this, it’ll ruin the whole plan.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but I wanted to see you!” The Snake protested. “And don’t you wanna know if I’ve discovered anything new?”

“Have you?”

The Snake’s smile turned sheepish. “Well, no… but-”

“But nothing.” Logan scolded, crossing his arms. “We can’t risk meeting up like this, we have other ways to catch up, you know.”

“Aww…” The other man cooed. “But you look so good in that suit! Can’t I just be here to appreciate how hot you look in an outfit as tight as that one?”

The Robot tried not to blush, but by the growing smirk on the Snake’s face, he’d clearly failed at that.

“We… we saw each other earlier, remember?” Logan protested. “You know, when you guys robbed that bank.”

The Snake snorted at that. “Yeah, yeah, I know, but I didn’t get a proper look at you!” He very obviously looked Logan up and down, before making eye contact with him again and grinning appreciatively.

The Robot stumbled over his words for almost another minute – the Snake knew exactly how to make him flustered – before finally managing to speak up again.

“Snake, this is serious, we really can’t be seen together!” Logan scolded, swiftly changing the subject back to one that wouldn’t leave him so embarrassed. “If our allies find out what’s really going on, it’ll ruin the whole plan, we’ll never find out who the Zombie is. We can’t risk that… and- and…”

“And?” The Snake prompted, one eyebrow raised.

Logan hesitated for a moment, before sighing. “And he could hurt you.”

The Snake’s face softened, and he reached out and lightly caressed Logan’s cheek. “I can take care of myself, Babe.”

“I know you can.” Logan reassured softly. “But I can’t risk losing you, we really need to be more careful.”

He and the Robot’s faces crept close and close together until their lips were only lips apart.

“Go home, Janus.” Logan mumbled against his boyfriend’s lips. “I’ll see you after patrol.”

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #me #superhero au #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #emile picani #remy sanders #sympathetic deceit #toby sanders #deceit sanders #the robot and the snake #writing

110 notes · View notes

thesylvalining · 8 years ago

Text

Sometimes I feel like my life is like a conversation between myself and Tom Petty.

Me: Man, I’ve got the travel itch.

Tom: Time to move on, time to get going.

Me: But where?

Tom: You belong somewhere you feel free.

Me: Duh! Where would you suggest? Italy?

Tom: You belong on a boat out at sea.

Me: But Tom, you know my track record with seasickness…

Tom: Let me get to the point, let’s roll another joint…

Me: Okay, now we’re getting somewhere!

It’s all my dad’s fault: he listened to Tom Petty for ages before I could even say “Tom Petty.” In truth the first complete sentence I said — “Go play on the freeway,” to a cute little old lady at the grocery store — was his fault, too. Supposedly I heard him say it to the dogs… apparently it’s real kids understand more than you think.

Speaking of kids… munchkins actually play into the way things are evolving but first: I want to touch on the way I’ve been feeling lately: like a leaf in the wind. Every day I am blissfully unsure of how things will unfold. It’s the most free and open I’ve possibly ever felt in my silly little life.

So when I read this bit of “Jitterbug Perfume,” by Tom Robbins (borrowed from my Italian friend/queen Lisa) I almost fell off the toilet where I do most of my reading. In this section one of the main characters, an ex-king named Alobar, is having a conversation with the village shaman, who speaks first:

“I encourage you to ride this strange wind that is blowing through you, to ride it to wherever it will carry you.”

“But which way shall I go?”

“That is between you and the wind…”

Lately the wind and I have been having a riveting dialogue, because in the last 72 hours, the “plan” (if anyone can call it that) has changed. It’s worked itself out in the most enchanting of ways, unrolling like pastry dough on the counter, ready to be filled with crema, nutella or marmellata… But the last couple days, my friends, are a story all of their own. Long story short, I am not coming back to the States until September… but the details are still evolving and all of that deserves its own glorious post.

So, while this new direction works itself out like a much, much more pleasant kidney stone, let’s allow the wind to blow us back to Rome, shall we?

We therefore pick up the trail in a hot and humid afternoon breeze outside the train station in Spagna, the Spanish quarter, in search of our quaint hotel. Kelly and Jacob are uncomfortably warm; I — the lizard — am in my happy place.

After ditching our bags at in our cool hotel room and chugging an appropriate amount of water, we burst back into the sun to check off the first item on our tourist list: the ancient Colosseum. And on the way, enjoy horse hats, the stately Altare della Patria and some more really old crap.

Not to be that person (although I’m gonna be that person)… but last I spent time in Rome, it was March of 2005 with my good friend Amy (AP Photo!) and her friend, Sherry. The streets — and the Colosseum — were cold, but deserted. This round it was busier than centro on market day, but nonetheless, the ancient, enchantment of such a structure remained intact.

With throngs of other humans we wandered in awe past old columns the size of Redwood trees and arches that had watched not only gladiators, but now — with an ancient eye roll — modern-day Selfie Stick aficionados battling with their Smartphones. I personally don’t need one because I was born with an arm… actually, two of them…

Boom! The Colosseum 🙂

Frands.

The big picture.

Old crap.

Selfie sticksssss.

More selfie love.

Even people carried from across the globe and deposited there like so many pieces of guanciale in a really good Carbonara (one of Rome’s specialties), the magnificence of so much history was not obscured. To read the Colosseum was regularly flooded for ship battles is incredible; to read people were tossed into the labyrinth of the Colosseum with lions like fish food into a fish tank to be ripped into tiny little fish food-sized pieces is gruesome… but fascinating, to be sure. Ahhhh, history.

Outside the Colosseum, with sweat moving like curious ants through crevices on our bodies which — unlike the Roman ruins we stood among — had somehow until this point avoided excavation, we spotted something incredible: free cold water. Throughout Italy a refreshing army of potable water pours from the frozen metal maws of lions or stoic faces but here, there was a choice between naturale (still) or frizzante (sparkling) water. From that moment on, the fizzy water stop became mandatory on all expeditions.

Post-Colosseum we paused for our daily gelato stop and found an appropriately ugly spot to suck it down…

We took the scenic way home, bypassing the chaotic, clogged but more direct shopping hub on Via Del Corso, stumbling across this lovely courtyard that probably has a story of its own…

After the hot sun went to bed, we decided a trip to Trevi Fountain — featured in Fellini’s “La Dolce Vita,” — would be next. Despite feeling more like a zoo than one of Rome’s most ancient water sources (the Aqua Virgo Aqueduct built 19 B.C. provided water to the Roman baths and Rome’s central fountains), Trevi fountain at night was still magical. We grabbed a bottle of wine from a nearby enoteca and pizza al taglio (pizza baked in large rectangular pans, sliced in squares and re-nuked) and observed people chucking coins in the water. After some wine and some time, we noticed most people tossed over left shoulders, turned backwards. The key to a wish come true, apparently, is not to watch after the coin leaves your hands.

After leaving the zoo, we retreated to our cool, dark room and passed the flip out.

In the morning it was ____. Yep, you guessed it, hot! After an Italian-style caffeine-pastry breaking of the fast, we headed towards the Roman Forum, rented audio guides and proceeded to march around learning about, among so many other things, the 7th century Temple of Vesta, Umbilicus Urbis (the Roman entrance to the Underworld) and Basilica Julia, built by Julius Caesar. Over it all sat a blue sky over which the brilliant sun ruled; Kelly and Jacob sweated to death and soon retreated to a popular shady area to revamp; I continued my wandering, sweating to life 🙂

Listening to some audio…

The remains of the Temple of Castor and Pollux.

Temple of Saturn, in the distance…

The Temple of Saturn.

Sharing grounds with the Forum was Palentine Hill, one of Rome’s Seven Hills and where Romulus first founded the original city in 753 BC. We wandered among the House of the Vestal Virgins, learning those lucky ladies had to keep their virginal, ahem, properties intact or, of course, they were killed. Lovely.

Kelly and Jacob kicked it in the shade while I ran up to the top of Palentine Hill to check out the garden atop it and of course, the view!

Post-Forum we made a pit stop for acqua frizzante with a herd of other thirsty humans, found more pizza al taglio for lunch and made our way to Via Labicana to rent three neon bikes from Wheely Bike. With the wind in our hair, we zipped over to the (free!) and glorious Pantheon. Formerly a Roman Temple, the Pantheon was constructed between 118-128 BC.

Inside, with everyone else, we gazed silently upwards to marvel at the Pantheon’s spectacular oculus. And — equally stunning — to postulate how, almost two thousand years after it was built, the Pantheon is still the world’s largest un-reinforced concrete dome. My mind still struggles to wrap itself around such a feat like a thick spaghetti noodle around a fork in a bowl of cacio e pepe (cheese, pepper sauce — another irresistible Roman culinary masterpiece).

After the Pantheon, we zipped through nearby (crowded) Piazza Navona on our way to the river and our obligatory gelato stop of the day: Gelateria Del Viale, some of the best gelato in Rome, according to a friend of mine. We cooled off along the river and rode the long way back to Wheely Bike to return our neon steeds…

DCIM101GOPRO

Gelateria del Viale.

Looking down from steps near Altare della Patria.

Exiting the bike path by the Tiber River.

Coming around the back of the Forum…

After we ditched bikes, we figured we’d have enough time to trot over to the room, powder our noses and head to dinner at the charmingly-named Guilio Passami l’Olio (Guilio, pass me the olive oil). But suddenly we were the Lemony Snickets amongst a series of Unfortunate events: First, missing the first bus because we were on the wrong side of the street. Second, Sylva — The One Who Has Been to Italy Many Times Before forgot to pop in a Tabacchi and buy tickets before catching the bus. And the third bus (of course) was late enough to push our delayed arrival into the realm of “maybe they’re not actually coming at all…” Eventually, we threw in the cheaper public transportation towel in and hailed a cab.

At Giulio Passami l’Olio we found a hopping scene and our reservation had somehow gotten lost in the shuffle like an olive in a very loud, well-dressed salad. Eventually, however, we sat in sweaty clothes and tennis shoe to eat delectable food and consult the restaurant’s fantastic wine bible, or Wible.

To digest and enjoy the temperate evening, we wandered back along the river, enjoying the play of the lights on the water, the trees swaying in the breeze and the feel of a big city under darkness.

Back at the ranch, we made quick work of falling dead asleep. In the morning, at 8:30 a.m., we had a hot date with the Vatican and the even more infamous Sistine Chapel…

Morning found us squeezing onto la metropolitana with the rest of Rome — the Romans to work and us to Vatican City. Like an open bottle of red wine, we poured out onto the streets, directed this way and that by hawkers and helpful folks associated with the Vatican — problem was, it was impossible to tell the difference. But with such volume of people heading to gawk at the plush, art-full innards of the Vatican, we found ourselves funneled right into the gaping, rope-lined mouth of the museum. Luckily, we bought tickets in advance and soon marched up a long spiral staircase into the Vatican.

A sign presented two options: a short tour and a long tour. Two plus hours, Egyptian heiroglyphics, Roman statues, ancient painted maps and medieval tapestries, several Salvador Dali pictures and a Sistine Chapel later, we couldn’t even imagine what the long tour entailed…

From one of the many Vatican windows, Rome, on and on…

Old ass stuff.

The Hall of Muses.

Some of the coolest maps of Italy and Europe possibly ever.

The Vatican’s dome.

Salvador Dali! One of my favorite artists!

In the Sistine Chapel, I was a very, very bad monkey and — amongst loud, firm admonitions via intercom for “Silenzio, per favore; silence, please!” and “no pictures” I fake sneezed, glanced both ways and pointed my very incognito camera straight up:

Oops…

After the Vatican, we located some grub and had just enough time to sprint up the Spanish Steps for a view before getting sucked back into the cockles of la metropolitana and the expansive Roman stazione for the ride back to Faenza…

On subsequent episodes of The Sylva Lining… there’s Venice and I answer the same question The Clash pondered: Should I stay or should I go now? And furthermore, how? As they say, where there’s a will there’s a way. Or, as this Roman street artist penned:

La Dolce Vita Sometimes I feel like my life is like a conversation between myself and Tom Petty. Me: Man, I've got the travel itch.

0 notes