He wondered where Neo was right now.
Wherever she was, at least she wasn't here. Roman would have preferred anywhere but the confinement of a jail cell, bar six feet under the ground. Still, he detested the idea of being trapped like an animal. Stripped of his classic hat, coat and cane, his makeup and bright hair was all that remained to define him. Even then he was anxious; the lack of reflective surfaces was bothersome as then it would at least provide some outlet, some sort of way to check his appearance, his identity. If he was going to be lumped with these other petty, wannabe criminals he at least wanted to stand out as the criminal genius he was.
Well, that was yet to be appreciated, by police or the public.
As he lay on the uncomfortable bed he contemplated getting caught again, just for the chance of getting a better mugshot. His current one was…okay, but his eyeliner could have been straighter.
Sigh…this is what you get when you have your underling that's almost half your size do your makeup because you're in a rush to snag the prime opportunity of the evening when shopkeepers are at their most vulnerable. Next time he would be sure to do it himself. Better to look good in failure than succeed and it be worth nothing. Still, when would that next time be?
He would normally expect that Neo would turn up soon, although, after tonight's fiasco she was probably better of hiding out. Roman had grown arrogant lately after a string of successful small robberies and thus drew the deluded conclusion that he and Neo were capable enough to target something more…grandiose. Roman thought he had planned for everything, as one needs to when stealing from the Vale National Bank. He had accounted for the armed guards, the security cameras and systems, transporting the goods and so on. Between he strategic mind, Neo's illusions and both of their raw strength combined this should have been easy.
He had never thought about hunters.
His delusions of grandeur put him on a pedestal that made him believe there was no entity strong enough to combat him, thus fading out that knowledge of the trained and tenacious hunters and huntresses whose job, no, purpose was to protect against people like him. So when he and Neo arrived at the scene and saw the two of them at the gates, one buff, taller woman with some sort of telescope cannon, and the slender man with bright purple hair sporting a laser gun, Roman's head washed over with a mixture of feelings. He felt anger at himself, he felt nervous, he felt fearful however these were drowned out by the sheer ferocity of his arrogance which stupidly drove him to fight instead of run.
Needless to say he lost, though he continued to play it out again and again in his head, reviewing the good and the bad parts of the fight for future reference. He'd been able to land a few solid hits. Straight up melee seemed impossible with the woman; her telescope acted as a large, heavy bat that blocked every hit he attempted at with his cane which appeared like a matchstick next to a tree in comparison. His shots at her were all clean, although she endured them with little to show for the damage. Neo had not had much better luck against the purple haired boy. He was able to match her agility and her swordplay skills, since surprise surprise that laser gun was able to transform into a laser sword. The two were on the edge with the sounds of sirens in the distance when Roman ordered Neo to conjure an illusion for escape. One blow to head however and he was out cold. When he woke he found himself in the police station, stripped off his style, the taste of blood in his mouth and no sign of Neo.
He clenched his fist and smashed it against the wall beside him. Drawing back his fist he smirked at the blood trickling through his fingers. That fight really drew away all of his strength. It was refreshing but perhaps he just thought that to cover the feeling of weakness that plagued him. Looking back he knew he had blundered but a blow that large to your ego doesn't just fade that easily. He let a quiet groan escape his lips as he lay his head back onto the bed. He was tired and just wanted to rest.
After what could have five minutes or five hours the smell of molten metal pervaded his nostrils, sharp enough to rouse him from his sleep. In his half-awake state he managed to understand the sultry sound of a woman's voice calling for him to wake up and face her. Roman groggily complied, sitting up to face the angel that decided to speak with him.
'Angel' may have been a misleading choice of words. She seemed more like a nightmarish fairy godmother as she stood tall in her heels, looking him over with amber eyes and a permanent smirk not unlike something devilish. One hand she used to quickly brush back her dark hair. The other was hovering near the melted jail cell bars, both glowing faintly. He looked up to meet her gaze but found himself frozen with some emotion that carried both fear and respect. Roman became enamoured by the figure before. When she spoke him again she had his full attention.
"Hello Roman, I've been watching you and I've decided it's time that we finally met. You may call me Cinder and I will be your guide to freedom and the recognition that you so truly deserve" she said slowly, never moving her eyes away from his.
Her tone was almost hypnotic, though as enticing as she was Roman did not want wish to be foolish again. He knew deals like this always came with a catch, and something as glorious sounding as this was bound to have a heavy payment.
"What do you want from me?" He asked bluntly. Her smirk did not waver at the question.
"I simply want you to do a favour for me"
"Favour?"
"You'll learn in time…you're partner has been offered the same deal, they said, or rather they implied that they will take it if you did as well"
Roman lowered his head to shadow the smile forming on his lips, though it was a pointless gesture when he let out a low chuckle. When he raised his head again to ask just more question he was interrupted by the sight of something beautiful.
This woman who called herself 'Cinder' had her arm outstretched. Hanging delicately from her elegant fingertips was the beauty that was his beloved hat, perfectly intact, the feather stuck on the side unruffled. Upon looking further he saw his white coat slung over her outstretched arm and his cane clasped in her other hand behind her back. She made the gesture to take the articles of clothing, to which Roman happily complied. He looked himself over to the best of his ability without a reflective surface. He smile grew to a smirk.
"So"
Her voice brought him out of his narcissistic state.
"Will you do this favour for me?" Cinder asked, this time holding out the cane.
She didn't require his spoken consent. All dressed up, his aura radiated with pride. As he adjusted his hat she suppressed a laugh.
It was almost sad.
Hello fanfiction, I am finally back!
I'm really looking forward to this little project since I'm a huge fan of Roman Torchwick and can't wait to explore his character further since we learned so little about him from the show.
Anyway I hope you enjoyed reading this and will stick around for future chapters.
