ROMAN MYERS ❛ war is not heroic. war is not exhilarating. war is full of ( despair ). it’s d a r k. it’s dreadful. it’s a thing of
S O R R O W and G L O O M..❜ soldier ▸ hero ▸ blind man
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?
While 1944 New York City was nothing but busy this time of day, the lively chatter of the somewhat musty joint was enough to drown out the plethora of car honks and men yelling. Knowing his time home was dwindling, Roman had decided to take advantage of what little days he had left. After all, there was no guarantee he would come back. So, fancying himself a repose from the high life, he’d stopped by the building in the hopes of catching an old friend or two. However, when he stepped inside, the young, vibrant men that had once filled the room were replaced by older folks, all talking over one another in the hopes of being heard. The scene hadn’t been what he’d expected but neither did it surprise him. He knew where those young men were. Walking over to the empty pool table, Roman gently picked up two cue sticks. Turning around, he looked for a suitable opponent before his eyes met that of someone else. He offered out the cue. “Up for a friendly game?”
Raised in New Hampshire, Roman was born to a housewife and US Lieutenant in 1913.
When the US entered WWI in 1917, Roman’s father was shipped overseas. A few months later, a SNCO, and chaplain arrived at their doorstep, letting them know his father had been killed in action. Roman was four years old.
Though his memories are hazy, the death of his father deeply affected Roman and he grew to idolize what he represented, promising that one day he too would join the army.
Motivated by a desire to serve his country, Roman graduated high school and enrolled in the United States Military Academy— his father’s alma mater.
He climbed the ranks while in the academy and after graduation, Roman was commissioned into the military as an officer.
Roman quickly earned a reputation for his sharp shooting and while the US army did not have an official sniper school yet, Roman went through an advanced marksmanship course and developed skills which would prove to be useful once the war began.
Like most soldiers, Roman knew it was only a matter of time before the United States entered the war. However, not even he expected the entry to come as the result of an attack. Thrown into the heart of the war, Roman moved around with his unit which included close friend, Carter Mikkelson.
Although the United States was not nearly as familiar with sniping tactics in WWII, it was due to training under a former German sniper that allowed Roman to become one of the most well-trained snipers in the US Army.
After being grazed by a bullet, Roman met Evelyn Archer, an Army nurse, and the two developed a relationship before ultimately marrying near the beginning of 1943.
Currently a Captain in the US military, Roman is in New York for a brief stay where he is gearing up to be shipped overseas once more.
Important Note: As you may have noticed, Roman is not yet blind. He will lose his sight on D-Day which has not yet occurred.
“Oh, no I was just thinking out loud” Alyssa would often think out loud, sometimes she couldn’t help it her thoughts were like a road full of traffic, all coming in at once so sometimes she had to just set them free by voicing them. She turned to the man that had asked, stepping out of his way she smiled softly “sorry, do you want to get past? I didn’t realize I was in the way”
“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.”
Being someone who liked to think she was quite good at reading people, Evie noticed that his levels of discomfort went past those of a man who was jut reluctant to be in her shop. Figuring that despite moving back a little, she must have something to do with it she wandered over to the speakers which currently had Sense and Sensibility being read out of them. While she usually favoured Nicholas Sparks, they were just so hopelessly romantic in the way they came across, she’d recently decided to try a few of the old classics and while Wuthering Heights hadn’t quite matched up to The Notebook it seemed Jane Austen was more than a match. The man’s comment made her grin and she gave a little laugh as she looked at him over her shoulder. “Oh I don’t know, I reckon all 5′3 and a half of me could do some damage if I put my mind to it.” It was a completely ridiculous notion that she could do such a thing, even if her height and size weren’t an obstacle she didn’t have it in her to hit someone else. “We most certainly do, what sort of gift are you after?”
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?”
Giving a little shrug Evie played down his comments, choosing not to mention how it was someone being there that had caused her to almost fall. “Sorry, I’m easily distracted but usually it’s just me and my flowers so there’s no witnesses to my clumsiness.” Her eyes were drawn downwards to the dog at the man’s feet and a small frown appeared on her face as she wondered about her newest customer. She’d have felt awful about banging into anyone because of her lack of concentration but it only added to her shame that he’d have been even more caught unawares than most people. “Are you ok though? I did sort of barrel straight into you, which again I’m really sorry about.” Realising that there wasn’t much space between them she took a small step backwards, deciding that it would probably be better just to help him out with whatever he’d come to her shop for. After all, in her experience despite trying her hardest to smooth things over she usually just made situations worse so despite wanting to apologise about ten times more she did her job. “So, what can I help you with today? Something special for a special someone?”
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.”
charlie boy by the lumineers // little lion man by mumford & sons // this is gospel (piano) by panic! at the disco // 21 guns by green day // knockin’ on heaven’s door by raign // dream by imagine dragons // only if for a night by florence & the machine // battle cry by imagine dragons // ghost towns by radical face // some nights by f.u.n // dust in the wind by kansas // promises by the boxer rebellion // viva la vida by coldplay
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.
Logan knew when a man was set in his opinion and while he thought that people were grateful to the soldier for more than just it not being their family at risk, he kept his mouth shut. No sense in making an enemy of someone he felt he currently had more in common with than the majority of other people he met. It wasn’t often he came across someone who seemed to get it, that he could talk about his grievances with without them thinking him ungrateful or find it depressing. It was nice to have someone understand. “I don’t think it’s the sort of thing you can really grasp unless you’ve experienced something similar too it. I try not to be too hard on them but sometimes you wonder if they’ve even thought about the words coming out of their mouths.” More often than not they didn’t, matters were only made worse by the fact his cancer was back so any words intend to praise only made him bristle. “Logan Cook, nice to meet you.” It was a phrase he often said and while he always liked meeting new people, he especially meant it with Roman. The name was familiar to him, he’d heard Carter mention it a few times and with it not being the most common of names he took a stab in the dark. “You don’t happen to know someone called Carter, do you?”
“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.”
“I don’t know, I think admiration is in there somewhere and in your case gratitude. But you’re right, the majority of is relief. Their family has escaped an unlucky draw in life and they can relax for a moment knowing that, for now, their lot is a good one.” In his own experience, most people had seemed genuine when they voiced their praise of him being strong enough to get through it but that didn’t mean it riled him any less. All they saw was the survivor. The parts of him that had made it through. No one ever saw what he’d lost, all the things he’d never be able to experience because of lost time. The football games, the parties, hell even the exams. His whole high school experience ripped from him and now it was back to take his future from him. There’d be no settling down for him, no growing old. Just whatever he could get from the next few months. “They don’t really get it though, praising you for surviving doesn’t make up for what you lost and had to give up to do so.” At the other man’s words he began to catch the attention of the bartender. “Well that’s good enough for me.” Just as he finished his sentence the bartender arrived. “I’ll have a Scotch, please, and whatever this man would like.” His words hung clumsily in the air but there wasn’t a lot else he could say when he didn’t know his knew companion’s name.
“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.”
“Bullshit, Myers. I’d make you do it no matter what, and so would you to me.” They were both stubborn when it came to their newfound disadvantages, but it only took a bit of a verbal kick from the other to reshape a situation’s outlook. However bitter they may be about it. “No, you’ll throw darts at the center, and I won’t be talking about her. It’s over and done. That’s all there is to know.” Carter set an arm around Roman’s shoulders, burying the deceit from Livia deep within his towering fortress. “How many times did you miss? That’s how many you’re getting a bullseye for.”
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.”
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