truth or dare.

We stopped the ignorance, we killed the enemies. Sorry for the night demons still visit me. The plan was to drink until the pain over. But what's worse: the pain, or the hangover?

rcmanmyers:

“You’re not,” Roman's tone was dismissive as he turned his head towards the direction of her voice. Granted, he himself hadn’t been able to tell how close she was  but he took Zeus’ lack of slowing down as an indication she was a safe distance from him. “I would’ve told you to move if you were.” 

rcmanmyers:

Based on her footsteps and distancing tone, Roman knew she was moving away. Turning, he attempted to follow both sounds in an effort to have at least the chance of facing her. Eventually, it was her laugh that allowed him to garner roughly where she was. 5′3″— so he hadn’t been too off. Roman snorted down a laugh. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” His comment brought a glimmer of amusement. Though he knew she wouldn’t find it ironic given he doubted— hoped— she hadn’t guessed his disability yet, Roman himself did. The humor, of course, was fleeting because following close behind was the truth: Roman would never see. At all. And just like that, what little mirth he’d had was lost. “Flowers for my mother,” Roman explained, allowing the memory to distract from his renewed bitterness. “And a few others.” It was at that minute that Roman realized he had a problem. He couldn’t see the flowers much less decide which to send back home. He guessed he could play it safe with roses but Roman had never been one to be so cliché and would be damned if he started now. After a beat, he spoke again. “And whatever you think is prettiest works.”

“It’s not much, just enough to get you something to eat” she placed a few dollars into the homeless mans hand. She smiled as he thanked her, getting up from his place and walking away from her. “I just hope he spends it wisely” she mumbled to herself sighing, not realizing somebody was behind her and probably trying to get past.

Despite the weather, Roman had decided to venture outside. Although it was New York and the city was always bustling with people, he’d expected a little less today. It was a guess he wasn’t wrong in assuming. He kept close to 740, not wanting to struggle with getting home, and paid little mind to the young woman’s voice in front of him. That is, until she said something seemingly directed at him. “Are you speaking to me?”

rcmanmyers:

He fought the urge to tell her that he hadn’t witnessed it. Felt it, yes, but witnessed it, no. Instead, Roman opted for a dry remark. “Only victims,” he added. Though she was no longer touching him, Roman remained tense. He could feel how close she was and it left him on edge. Clutching tightly onto Zeus’ handle, he tried to focus on creating an image in his mind. She was shorter, he knew that much. Based on her proximity, he guessed she was 5′5″ at most, if that. As for her voice, it was sweet so he imagined soft features to go along with it. It was easier for him to converse with others that way. Having a picture in mind made him feel less— blind. “I’m fine,” he adjusted his coat as she moved away. “You’re not exactly a linebacker.” Relaxing as the conversation moved along, Roman remembered what he’d come here for. “I was wondering if you mailed flowers,” he began. “To New Hampshire to be exact.”

War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chock full of them - little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander.

rcmanmyers:

“I doubt it,” Roman’s words were dry. He knew he was being cynical. In fact, perhaps on another day, Roman would agree that the majority of people expressing their condolences meant well but today, after what had just occurred, he was in no state of mind to do so. It was a perspective that was becoming more and more frequent for him. It seemed with each day that passed, Roman became increasingly skeptical of those around him. He found it hard to believe others without the ability to see— to read their expression. Now, the most he could do was analyze their tone. “Likewise.” At the mention of Carter, Roman paused. A brief feeling of suspicion overcame him. When it came to Carter, it was nearly instinctive for Roman to be wary of anyone who mentioned his name. It wasn’t so much because he viewed him as a friend but rather because he viewed him as a brother.  Paying close attention now, Roman gave a slow response. “I do,” he began. “Why?” 

With a satisfied smile, Evie put the finishing touches to the vase of flowers in the lobby. Today, they were all whites and creams, with a little splash of the palest of pink roses. It was elegant an simple and she was proud of how well it had turned out. Tomorrow she already had plans for a bright burst of colour, purples and pinks to liven up the place. Already planning which flowers she would use, Evie turned around quickly running straight into someone. Losing her balance, she grabbed a hold of their arm with her eye wide with surprise and worry. “I am so sorry.” Giving an apologetic smile, she slowly released her hold on their arm. “That was completely my fault, I was in too much of a hurry to go nowhere.”

He hadn’t gone out of choice per se but rather obligation. With Valentine’s Day coming up, Roman prepared to send flowers to his mother just as he always had. However, it hadn’t taken him long to realize that without his sight, such a simple task was now considerably harder. He’d contemplated calling Carter for help but the thought made him feel pathetic. He needed to learn how to do things on his own. So, after asking around, he heard and was directed towards a flower shop. Being a new place, it’d taken him a frustratingly long time to arrive at his destination despite Zeus aiding him. It was days like today that he wished the dog was more like a GPS than a guide. Nevertheless, against all odds, Roman had made it. Stepping inside, he was about to call out when he felt a body then a sudden pressure on his arm— taking him by alarm. With Zeus stiffening beside him, Roman signaled at the dog to settle once he heard her voice though he himself remained tense. “You should watch where you’re going,” he huffed. “There might not be anyone to catch you next time.”

rcmanmyers:

“The only thing they’re grateful for is the fact that I’m not their son and he isn’t the one who’s been to war. Simple as that.” Roman was bred well enough to utter a ‘thank you’ or return a handshake when he was approached but it was never fully genuine on his part. Before, he hadn’t blamed them as much for feeling the way they did. After all, it was human nature to want to protect one’s own and love them enough to where the very idea of them being danger was abhorrent. However, after the explosion, that sentiment had gone to hell and now Roman held nothing but hidden contempt. So, he nodded his head when Logan stated what Roman was feeling. “Exactly. You think telling an amputee that ‘it was for his country’ will make him feel better over the fact that he can’t walk. Or telling a mother that her son is a hero will ease her pain. The loss always outweighs the gratitude. Better for them to not say anything at all.” Sensing an approaching figure, Roman guessed it to be the bartender. He was getting better at it now: learning how to tell the direction someone was coming from. “Old Fashioned’s fine,” Roman replied, filling in where Logan left off. He’d noticed the hesitancy in his voice and turned to where he guessed his general direction to be. “Roman Myers.”

rcmanmyers:

Roman didn’t respond. He knew it was a losing battle and one his friend held a clear advantage in being he was right. Instead, the former soldier chose to focus on Carter’s refusal to speak about Livia. “Wasn’t a question,” he clarified. “It was a statement. You passed second grade, you know the difference between declarative and interrogative sentences. Just because you’re deaf doesn’t mean you get to play it.” It took everything in Roman not to grimace at the memory that’d occurred a few minutes before. Hell, had it not been for Carter’s hold on him, he would’ve sat back down. “And I missed every time,” he replied shortly. “I expect now’s outcome to be the same.”