He can't believe there's actually a book about being a bad guy, but he ain't ever gonna read it. Bad guys break rules; they don't make them.
How Roy Breaks the Rule:
Roy's body is swollen with patches and splotches of purple bruises, his arms ache, and there's a thick layer of sweat coating his scales—and he wouldn't have it any other way.
After partaking in such a strenuous, adrenaline-fueled sparring match, Roy is more relaxed than he's ever been. Exchanging blows is as therapeutic as stuffing his face with barbecue chips or blasting his speaker to drown out Ludwig's nagging. Although his comfort is short-lived. His growling stomach signals it's about time to chow down.
Working up a ravenous appetite, Roy and his brutal sparring partner search for something to eat outside of one of the gyms Roy frequents located in the heart of the futuristic metropolis of Neo Bowser City. Luckily, he finds a lone hot dog vendor selling spicy chili dogs, ushering in customers with a gallant smile. Roy's tongue waters at the scent alone and, casting a glance at his fidgety companion, he can tell he also wants a bite.
He tosses the vendor a hefty stack of coins, waving him off when he offers him back the extra money. With a pep in his step, the vendor whips up four chili dogs, slathering them both with extra chili and garnishing it with freshly cut onions.
Roy and Yoshi horde their chili spoils to their chests and scurry towards the closest place to sit down and indulge. Once again Roy's unfounded luck provides them with some reprieve because a bench happens to be near the vendor.
Eagerly, Roy bites into one of his delicious hot dogs, savoring the variety of spices intermingling with the pleasant sting of onions and tang of mustard. He turns to his partner and finds Yoshi humming happily beside him, squirming in his seat and kicking his legs like an excited child on a swing set. He reminds Roy of Lemmy whenever he's jumpy with anticipation.
He snorts, hiding a grin behind planned bites of his hotdog before starting on his second. He watches Yoshi's big eyes rove over the busy city of Neo Bowser City, probably unfamiliar with the constant buzzing of conversations and electronics. For once, it isn't raining in the high-tech metropolis. Believe it or not, the sun actually exists in the city's skies.
The vampiric sunshine-sucking clouds aren't congesting the sky today, threatening the city-goers with a potential downpour. The various giant screens flash Bowser paraphernalia for sale or advertisements for new shell wax and some brand of hair gel for Koopas lucky enough to have hair.
This arrangement Roy is in is rather recent, but not fresh enough for him to experience a jarring sense of—what's that specific type of guilt only a child experiences when they're doing something they aren't supposed to be doing? Is there even a name for it?
Ah, who cares? He's not friends with the green dinosaur/turtle thing; they're just sparring partners. He isn't breaking any rules and, if he is, it's not the first rule he's ever broken anyways. Like most complex things, he doesn't dwell on it for too long. Anxiety isn't going to get the best of him if he cares little for repercussions.
Roy swallows down his second hot dog and walks the short distance to order four more. As he waits, he takes in the bustling city for himself. Like every city, it's never silent. Cars roar by, puffing out smoke through mufflers, conversations blend into a cacophony of poorly orchestrated music of different keys and notes like Ludwig on an off day, and Roy is caught in between all the noise. It's nothing like the castle.
He hands off two more hotdogs to Yoshi and sits back down next to him. It's quiet in a strange way because it's clearly not quiet, but there's no noise stemming from Yoshi besides his happy munching or hums of appreciation. So, uncharacteristically, Roy finds himself starting a conversation despite preferring the silence to small talk.
Between bites of food, he talks about his new set of wheels for the next race tournament, he complains about Iggy's newest prank involving him and how sweet his revenge felt when he got the nerd back for it. Yoshi listens.
Roy can tell he's listening intently to everything he's saying. He laughs when Roy laughs and scowls when Roy scowls. It's… nice? There's no judgment on Yoshi's smiling face, there's no need to act like the tough older brother, and Yoshi doesn't constantly interrupt to correct his grammar like Ludwig.
Plus, being around Yoshi, Roy is starting to pick up on the different inflections in Yoshi's tone and their meanings. He isn't a mind reader like Lemmy or Kamek—they're so good at reading body language that it's creepy. Regardless, Roy can tell when Yoshi is displeased with his comments or when he's dishing out some sarcasm.
Yes, sarcasm. Roy didn't know Yoshi were even capable of grasping the sacred art of sarcasm, but the various dry looks or fake gasps from Yoshi whenever Roy flaunts his ego by admiring himself are telling signs Yoshi is more than just a happy pet to Mario. In fact, he's not a mindless pet at all.
"It's weird I can't understand you, but you can understand me. I feel like I'm talkin' to myself," Roy comments offhandedly, scarfing down his fourth chili dog.
Most of the time, it does feel like a one-sided conversation, but Yoshi always finds a way to show Roy he understands him or has a creative way to input his own opinions without the use of words.
Proving his previous thought, Yoshi cocks his head slightly, eyes focused on him, prompting Roy to continue. He licks his lips free of chili with his long tongue as he waits for Roy to elaborate his point.
Roy grins, knocking an elbow into him. "But you're one hell of a sparring partner so I ain't gonna complain about the lack of conversations. I'm gonna be sore for days after the beat down you put me through. You're better than Mario when it comes to fighting." Roy snorts at the thought of the red-hat moron, crossing his arms. "The dude would be lost without you constantly carrying him on your back."
Yoshi hums eagerly at the compliment, growing more antsy in his seat as he repeats his namesake over and over again, rattling the bench they're enjoying their lunch on. The turtle-dinosaur is so excitable. Roy momentarily wonders who's worse: Yoshi or Junior after too much candy.
He settles the internal debate, claiming Junior as the victor when he remembers Junior controls his own personal army, Roy included in said army, while Yoshi is just a happy, go-lucky, Yoshi enjoying the lackadaisical island life or kicking butt when he's needed. And he definitely kicks butt if the bruises on Roy's arms are any indication.
Yoshi's fighting style is… unique. Unusual. He uses his slimy tongue for attacking, rarely relying on his shorter arms. His tongue is quicker and packs a punch of its own. At first, Roy had found it repulsive, refusing to partake in matches whenever Yoshi felt inclined to use his tongue to toss blows.
Eventually, Roy felt it was unfair to ban the use of Yoshi's weird tongue because Yoshi relies on it like Roy relies on his fists. Roy found he was holding him back from truly going all out during matches. Their fights became too stale and predictable for Roy's tastes.
When Roy swallowed his disgust and tossed the rule from their sparring match, Yoshi got to brightly shine while Roy got an impressive shiner and a broken pair of sunglasses. In the end, Roy got used to being coated in saliva (the gym does have showers) and acquired one hell of a partner to beef up his already muscular physique.
"After this, wanna hit up the arcade? I bet I could beat your high score this time." Roy suggests, licking his claws free of greasy chili.
The arcade located in a more remote section of the city has become their frequent hangout. Yoshi excels at the reflex games while Roy can tackle any physical game with ease. At the suggestion, Yoshi bursts into a green ball of excited anticipation. Roy sets a hand on his head in an attempt to stop the Yoshi-made earthquake threatening to collapse the bench they're perched on.
"Yeah, chill out or you'll lay an egg or somethin'." Roy smirks, gently shoving Yoshi's face away from him before he gets any ideas. "I get it. You like the dancing game. I'll kick your tail again. You ain't ever gonna out dance me, chili breath."
Yoshi can follow rhythm surprisingly well, but he can't keep up with Roy's quick steps. Before Roy can ask if Yoshi wants more or if he's finished eating his weight in hot dogs, Yoshi roughly slaps his shell. Roy staggers forward on the bench, steadying himself before he nosedives straight onto the concrete.
The glare he directs towards the Yoshi is shaded by his sunglasses, but he can scorch anyone with it when he needs to. His growing aggression is replaced with recognition when he spots the mischief painted onto Yoshi's face. He knows what Yoshi is telling him.
"You're it."
Yoshi sprints off, kicking up dirt and loose newspapers (people still read those?) He lets out a premature victory cry as he gets an impressive head start. Roy shakes away the confusion clogging his brain. Tag? Really? He hasn't played tag in years. How is Yoshi older than him?
Still… he's not about to lose this race. Roy lets out a roar as he jumps from the bench, charging after the laughing Yoshi.
Meh. I finally tackled this one. I don't know how it turned out, but I needed to distract myself from the stress the holidays bring to me. Ugh.
Lemmy's chapter is done so expect that in two days or so… it's a personal favorite of mine.