Chapter Text
It was a cold night in Rome, and Michelangelo was turning the corner, deep into the shadows of the night, his long coat swaying behind him.
“I know you're out there, evil criminal…” He whispered, kicking at a rock on the street, the sound of horse hooves on the pavement behind him.
He could smell the scent of treason in the air, for only he knew that scent the best.
Treason smelled of ash and old attic, for it was growing old seeing all these people wreaking havoc upon civilians.
Then he heard a crash. Michelangelo whipped around, towards a dark alley, slipping on his gloves, ready to strike his opponent with a flash.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the Michelangelo,” said the man, who had a strong, angular face with a charming hairdo.
“Well, well, I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Apelles, for you seemed of a kind man to all…”
Michelangelo caught, leaning backward, taking in his enemy from head to toe.
“Well, you don’t seem to be an worthy opponent of me,” Apelles stated, then waving a paint brush in his hand, “For I have stolen the New Kingdom Egyptian brushes, and will never give them back!” he continued, flaunting around with the stolen goods.
“Well, that is unacceptable! Now I must punish you with my talents!” Michelangelo whailed, charging at the other man, sticking his fist out, then chanting an old Latin phrase.
Then smoke lifted from the ground, a flash hitting Apelles to his knees, and the man was now crying.
“My hair! My hair! What have you done! I have now lost half of my good looks!” he whimpered, the box of paint brushes clattering to the ground, for he had taken defeat.
“You are a villain, now you have faced my wrath!” he crushed the paintbrushes under his foot and began to walk away, now having created another baldie.
He walked down the street now, hands in his coat pockets, walking towards a bridge.
Leaning on the bridge rail, the night sky was filled with twinkling stars, their light illuminating the sky.
He sighed, his breath taking colour in the air, then he heard another set of footsteps walking towards his area.
“Michelangelo, I see you have defeated another. I must say I am surprised to see that it was Apelles; I always thought of him as a gentleman.”
“Well, he was an easy target; he has a perpetual ego that bears within him, it had held him back for quite some time…”
“You wouldn’t think that ego lies in his hair?”
Michelangelo turned around, “Lisean Van, I have no desire to talk to the likes of you. I must continue my duties without dis-”
“Michelangelo, you said you were finished with your duties?”
“...well, that is none of your concern, now if you’ll excuse me, I have to head back to my house.”
He turned a sharp corner, begging to walk away from Van Gogh.
“Michelangelo, you're just heading back to Leonardo’s place, aren’t you…”
He sucked in a breath,
“Yes, I am.”
Then he began to walk home, his shoulders tight with pride.
Oh Van Gogh, how terribly sorry I am…