trans_9 | Flames, Anyone?

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Flames, Anyone?

Having spent the last week or so exploring this odd vessel, Roy is hardly surprised when he finally manages to get to the Sensoriums in one shot. Getting lost has become a part of his routine, but out of sheer determination he has figured Stacy's confusing hallways out.

He allows himself a small smile, a miniscule quirk of his lips in recognition of this small triumph against his captor. Pulling his gloves from the pocket of his greatcoat, he exhales steadily, loudly, his eyes narrowing as the room summons a series of moving targets in the shape of various creatures. He eyes one, internally forming an alchemic equation suited to large explosions, and dodges out of the way as it lunges at him. A snap is barely heard over the sounds of running feet, snarling, and the nearest set of targets explodes in a ball of flame directed from Roy's index finger.

As the room continually summons more targets for him to singe, his equations shift from explosions to slow burning flames to lakes of fire to something akin to lightning, a technique he was still perfecting.

A smirk blossoms, his telltale cockiness showing through as he incinerates yet another target.

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"Transformation of matter," he intones, turning slightly to snap at a hastily summoned dummy. The target bursts into flames and crumbles slowly as Roy watches. "Manipulation of the elements at hand to alter them just enough to create something entirely different. Oxygen is flammable, so with a spark -" he snaps again, a small flame kindling above his index finger after a barely visible spark flickers out from his glove "- you can create flame and control it."

His words are analytical, rather void of emotion. He blinks, and the flame above his finger disapears.

"Hmn." Samus is genuinely impressed. Of course, Samus doesn't sound particularly dazzled, and her face looks only mildly interested at best.

She considers the concepts; it makes sense to her. Obviously the gloves provided the spark. The snaps weren't just for show. What didn't make sense to her was how he manipulated flame.

"And how exactly do you control the flame?" Without burning his eyebrows off, that is.

Apparent disinterest on the blonde's part or no, Roy welcomes talking about alchemy with open arms, just as long as the conversation doesn't pertain to Ishbal or the Philosopher's Stone. A faint smirk flickers across his face, and the room produces a stick of chalk for his immediate use. "There are three tenets to alchemy: Understanding, Deconstruction and Reconstruction. Once you understand the basic principles, you use the Understanding to activate what is called a transmutation circle." He draws a circle, adds a triangle that touches the outer circle at three points, and scrawls in some symbols. "The circle gives the information for the transmutation, and the process of Deconstruction and Reconstruction begins when you activate the reaction with your own willpower." He touches the circle with the tips of his fingers, and the area is filled with blue light for a moment, sparks crackling in the air. The ground shifts to produce a bar of gold. "As the floor in this ship is entirely organic, it's possible to pull carbon from a concentrated area to produce coal, and coal, of course, can be chemically bonded into gold."

He rises, staring at the circle and lump of gold for a moment before looking at the woman. "I've been doing flame alchemy long enough that I can mentally calculate the specifics of my equation, so with the basic flame circle -" he shows her the back of his right glove "- I can manipulate fire to do whatever I will it to do."

Simple explanation? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, when Roy snaps again, he looks a little calmer than he has felt since his arrival. After all, feeling 'in one's element' is a strong ego boost, and also a form of meditation.

She crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow while considering his abilities. Chemistry was not Samus' specialty, but she understood the fundamentals Roy explained. However circles and willpower distinctly manipulated flames, she couldn't grasp, but she's seen stranger things. Even back in her own world, she used to work with a fellow bounty hunter who manipulated ice as easily as Roy manipulated fire.

"Is this common in where you're from?" Samus was genuinely curious. Yes, that hunter could manipulate ice, but he was also very not human. From where Samus was standing, Roy looks very much human.

He scuffs the transmutation circle out with his foot, avoiding touching the bar of gold shining happily on the floor. Though it doesn't really matter if he's breaking one of the laws of alchemy in his country, it still makes him uneasy. The production of gold through alchemy has been completely banned, lest alchemists use their skills to create false wealth and operate a monopoly. 'Alchemist, be thou for the people,' as they say. A wry smirk twists Roy's lips.

"At the basic level? Yes. Many people in my country pursue limited skill sets focused on alchemy, but beyond that it's very rare. Skills like mine -" Is he tooting his own horn? Why yes, he is. "- aren't so much rare as highly, highly uncommon." He grimaces. "If you want to see alchemic aptitude, though, you should talk to Fullm-er... There's a teenager who works under me in the military, a State Alchemist like myself who has skills unheard of. I'd never say so to him, but the kid has some talent. He can clap his hands and do alchemy, no circle needed. It's phenomenal." His eyes glaze over as he watches the first transmutation he'd seen Ed do in his mind's eye, seeing the staff rise out of the ground like some travesty of a plant. Of course, he had then proceeded to jab said staff in the Führer's face, but that wasn't important.

Samus didn't doubt the abilities of the alchemist. No sane military would let any teenager less than prodigy under their command. How old was he? Merely a boy hardened into a pseudo-adult and faced with a world of responsibilities she had hoped no one besides herself would ever have to experience. Samus became angry. She had been shaped into a weapon from her youth, in the military by fourteen, and by the time she could have barely been considered an adult, she was earning her reputation as one of the most respected-and feared-individuals in the galaxy.

Samus was very good at hiding her emotions, a skill that came in handy quite often. The topic angered her, her eyes narrowed and she cast her glance to the side. Her disapproval apparent for a fraction of a moment, until returning to her more collected persona. Looking too angry or voicing too much distaste for certain authoritarian figures would cause too many questions to rise and call for too many answers she wasn't ready to give.

"I see," Samus' monotone manner of speaking seems just slightly forced. "So you and this boy are two of the best in your military? Well, I think a demonstration from him might have to wait if he isn't on the ship."

Roy sighs, unaware of the woman's internal anger, his eyes fixing on the smudged array at his feet. "I hope he's alright," he mutters, thinking, not for the first time, that it'd be so much easier to sleep at night if the kid hadn't joined the military. Not that he didn't understand Ed's reasons; on the contrary, he found the logic behind it to be the most... well, logical part about him. What was incomprehensible was his knack for throwing himself into thorny situations, and honestly, he really didn't need another death on his conscience. Especially one that would be wholly his fault. After all, he himself nudged Ed into the military, he told him to give up his freedom as an alchemist, to sell his soul to the State, and now look what was happening. Deaths, conspiracies, and what was beginning to look more and more like a contamination of the top brass.

He looks up, hearing something that he probably ought not to have heard in her tone. "This boy is most definitely one of the most brilliant alchemists I have seen, and having him as a subordinate fills me with pride untold. Don't let that cloud the truth: I feel more guilt for enlisting him in the ranks of the State than almost anything else. If he gets himself killed, it's on me, and knowing him, he'd pull it off just to see me squirm for the rest of eternity." His eyes narrow. "If you could see him and his haphazard clap-and-slap method of alchemy, what I do would look like baby steps." A pause, and Roy runs his hand through his hair, sighing out his next words. "He survived something I didn't even have the balls to attempt." Exhibit A? Human Transmutation.

"Don't." Samus' eyes narrowed. It's not that she didn't believe or understand what Roy was trying to say. She wanted Roy to stop talking; she understood too well.

She didn't need to know what Ed attempted to know that Roy wasn't exaggerating. The invincible teenage Aran found herself in more than one "suicidal" situation (Actually, she still found herself in those situations, but she was more aware of her mortality as an adult).

Samus didn't need to hear Roy defend himself as the boy's commanding officer. Her own commanding officer had taken responsibility for her, had taken pride in her, so much so he had sacrificed himself to save her. It was a death that she held herself responsible, regardless of how unpreventable the events of that day were.

Samus was assuming too much, judging too quickly. She couldn't stop herself, however. It was all too close to home for her to brush it aside and pretend that it didn't matter to her. She needed to calm down, but she couldn't.

She was angry. She was angry at Roy for being a representation of her own past, an irrational but still very real sentiment. She was angry that Roy's dedication to his subordinate was genuine, and a possible sacrifice would lay as heavily on Ed as it would on Samus' shoulders. She was angry at her own military, a mess of corruption and lies that she continued to serve even after leaving her position as an officer. Mostly, she became more and more angry with herself. An unreasonable amount of guilt washed over her, as this entire encounter had been a reminder of how much time and how many lives had been wasted in a useless operation.

His eyes are flint, cold and sharp as he watches the following series of thoughts flicker across her face almost imperceptibly. Though not familiar with her actual thoughts, he gets the gist of them: anger, guilt, frustration, and more anger. None of them are foreign to him.

Never one for people skills, her folds his arms across his chest, merely giving her a look that could potentially be a glare as he waits for her to maybe, possibly compose herself.

After several minutes of continued silence, he blinks, flicking a few strands of hair out of his face. "My apologies for making you uncomfortable," he murmurs formally, eyes still narrowed despite the sincerity in his tone.

Compose herself she does. It takes a moment, but she does. She stands up straighter, lifting her chin. The apathetic expression more common to her face washes over it.

She's almost embarrassed that she let her emotions take control of her, even for that short moment. The moment has passed, however, she returns to her collected self. She leaves no room for looking sheepish or ashamed.

She looks Roy straight in the eye and says in a cold and all too professional tone, "I understand it was not your intention. Pardon my reaction."

The whole bit about his situation reminding her of something very personal to her was left out, though might be assumed.

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