trans_9 | this week is royai festival too bad it's improbable [CLOSED]

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this week is royai festival too bad it's improbable [CLOSED]

The Mess Hall. Riza could hardly help but feel almost amused. It was rare that the team had ever used the cafeteria in the Eastern or Central command center. Often the Colonel mentioned "team dinners" or all of them just ate out. The only things they ever ate from the military bases, well it wasn't even eating, it was drinking, was the coffee. The coffee that tasted bland and was fairly disgusting no matter how hard you tried to prep it, but still it had become their ritual every day to make the disgusting coffee and drink it. She'd normally been the one to serve it, but it was always a nice gesture.

She was thinking of this as she took the plate and went into the corner of the mess hall with Hayate for few simple reasons. One of them being that eating in this place somehow reminded her of that coffee. Disgusting, but somehow a ritual that became comforting. Even if the 'slop' wasn't very delicious, there was the fact that there was something comforting in still being allowed to eat. Especially after being stripped of so many other things that were a comfort, showering included. (Yes, she realized the plant-suit did all that for them, but she was one of those people who did just enjoy showering to shower.)

Shaking her head, Riza shook off the thoughts. Feeling nostalgic was a strange idea, especially when she had no reason to be nostalgic... Even if those team moments had ended months ago, all the way back when Havoc became paralyzed. That idea made her frown as she sat. She was still trying to figure that out, what the Colonel should know, and what he shouldn't. For her, it seemed a definite that Havoc, the team being 'defanged' and Envy, of course, should never be allowed out to him. Things he didn't need to know, things that would probably make him do and think stupid things. He knew some though, thanks to Edward, and she at least had a starting place to her thoughts though.

With a sigh, she glanced at the food---she really didn't call it food, but it was at the very least nourishment-- and her amber eyes spun in thought. After a moment she looked at the pup who was now pawing and standing on her leg, despite training. She smiled some, reaching over to pet him on the head. "A moment, Hayate, and I'll give you something." A resounding yip as the pup stuck his tongue out and let it lull on the side of his face. But even that didn't amuse her for long as her thoughts turned back and a frown presented itself on her features once more.

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Roy pads into the Mess, reading, rather intently, the datapad clutched in one hand, his other hefting the usual tray of slop from the dispenser. He knows that it isn't wise to read while walking, but he's so used to walking alone, dining alone, and just generally being alone that he's given up on such things as transportation-involved decorum. Also, leaving the Media Library makes his skin itch these days, so having a datapad on hand has become a bit of a necessity for him.

Some might say Stacy has allowed him to slip from his military precision, but, of late, he's felt better than he has in, dare he say, years, because he had forgotten how nice it is to have time to read.

He feels rather peculiar when he glances up from the words on the screen long enough to locate a table, though, as his eyes land on his Lieutenant, because when was the last time he ate with her? It must be... well, eight months, at least, including both his time on the ship and the chaos that was Central after Maes' death. Despite the dark, contemplative expression on her face, a certain set of her eyebrows and mouth that he has grown to despise over the years, because it certainly means bad news, he finds himself setting his tray--and datapad--on the table in front of her, sitting with a glance around the room. He tugs off his gloves, watching Riza cautiously, an eyebrow working its way towards his hairline.

"Offering table scraps to the dog, Lieutenant. Are you feeling alright?"

Edited 2010-06-10 06:38 (UTC)

Riza knew he was there. The shift of weight at the table suggested as much, just as the noise and the prickling of tuition in her mind alerted her of someone nearby. She had kept her attention on the dog though, continuing to scratch behind his ear as Roy sat down. Listening as she waited for him to say anything, it always tended to be him that started the conversations at their lunch time meetings back home.

When he did, she sighed, dropping her hand from the pup's ear and straightening the slightly slouched position she had been in to pet him. Amber eyes glinted as she looked at Roy, a casual roll of the shoulders as her attention turned to her own tray for the moment. "I'm feeling no worse than usual, Sir," she responded lightly, "I'm just in no mood to eat and it's not a good thing to waste. Besides, Hayate has been curious."

She fell silent again, eyes turning to the datapad he had brought with him curiously. Her mind wheeled, wondering what exactly he'd been reading, but kept the questioning to herself. Letting the silence envelope for a few moments, Riza cataloged the earlier thoughts in her mind. Havoc, team, Envy... Havoc. Eyebrows stayed knitted and finally she sighed.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Colonel?"

Been a while to have lunch. Eat. Do something calm. Even for her, the last time they ate, even managed to have a conversation, was only so she may send the coded message about Selim over. And since arriving... had they really even seen each other much? She wasn't certain anymore, everything was fading into one giant blur. Riza didn't care for that. This had to be fixed, and soon.

His eyebrow settles itself back to normal, and he smirks slightly at his subordinate.

"And your disenchantment with the meal has you desperate enough to feed your helping to the dog? I'm shocked at you, Lieutenant. Breaking your own regimen of training." Still, his tone of voice hints that he quite sympathizes with her on the food, rather obviously avoiding his own plate of slop.

Hands folding on the table, Roy eyes Riza silently, considering the weight of her tone with those words. Obviously her "while" has been a much heavier "while" than his, though he's quite positive that his is longer, if nothing else. Predictably, he is tempted to ask what happened to make that word so heavy, to make her look so thoroughly exhausted as she said it, but he knows the woman across from him well enough to know that she won't give information of such weight away unwillingly. Instead of pressing, he chooses to wince at his slop and eat a bit of it before letting his gaze travel back to hers, eyebrows lifted as if to say "Do tell."

"It has, Lieutenant."

Riza closed her eyes as she folded her hands. "I have no disenchantment with the food, Sir. I hardly have right to complain about food when it is nourishment," she said simply. It was true, she didn't care that the 'slop' wasn't tasteful, but it didn't help the longing for you know even real food.

"I had just realized after arriving I didn't feel particularly keen to eat right now."

It was the truth. Riza had been piling on thoughts of what happened at home and her arrival here. Eating was hardly something she felt in the mood for, especially since the target of most of those thoughts was sitting right across from her. A breath. "Nonetheless, sir, I'll eat it" Riza opened her eyes and eyed him pointedly. She watched as he shoveled the food into his mouth and the look he gave her. Her eyes fell to her own plate at that and his words and she moved to take a bite, but before that she spoke, words quiet and serious, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Just what do you want to be told?"

"Of course, Lieutenant," he replies blankly, deadpanning at her as he watches her continue to not eat. Despite the logic of her statement, he remains unconvinced.

He does believe her on the part of not being keen on eating--she looks too concerned and contemplative to have much of an appetite. He eats a bit more of the slop, trying his hardest not to taste it, which isn't very hard as he considers her expression and the secrets of his future hiding behind her eyes. If he were to be truthful, he would say that he wants to be told everything. He knows his Lieutenant well enough to be aware of the fact that she won't tell him anything that she doesn't consider it essential and prudent for him to know.

"Whatever you're willing to tell me," he says simply, breaking a clear edge of his plate off and munching on it thoughtfully.

Riza retreated to the quiet confides of her mind, pulling together what she learned. She watched him slightly as he broke off the play. She really did have to admit that this whole business of food here was odd to her. Even if she wasn't particularly hungry right now, it didn't stop her from wondering why this sort was needed.

Whatever you're willing to tell me.

She knew he wanted all the answers. But which ones were safest for him to hear? Which ones could she say without him getting upset? Hardly anything that happened after Hughes with the team was acceptable to not make him upset. And if she were going to give him answers...

"Edward informed me he told you some things. The Homunculi and the Fuhrer. Corruption of the state level. As unbelievable as I'm sure they sound, they're true," she spoke silently, seriously, "and the team found itself deeprooted in the middle."

A beat, as she deliberated and then tried again.

"To put it more accurately, because of our knowledge we haven't been allowed to be a team for the past several months."

Edited 2010-06-15 01:32 (UTC)

Roy listens intently, eyes fixed on a spot in the middle of the table. There is a tightening around his mouth as he swallows, hands dropping to the table, fists clenched. He makes sure to breathe before speaking, because the mere mention of his team being... what, disbanded? makes him much too keen to incinerate any and everything in the vicinity.

As if all of the information dumped on him via Fullmetal wasn't enough, it seems as though whatever Riza has to say will complicate things, make his head hurt, and probably have him praying for some paperwork to drown out his fury.

"That was not the best way to phrase this, Lieutenant," he says flatly, rubbing at his eyes with ungloved fingers. "Who ordered the scattering of my team?"

She watched him. Every movement he did she read, gauging what was better left unsaid. The anger he was showing was enough to make her want to snap at him to calm down, but she held her tongue. Thinking things through she listened to him.

"I've never been one for sugar-coating, Sir. And nothing about the situation back home can be sugar-coated anyways," the words were simple, truthful. She never laid it on thick, but she didn't deny the details when they were called for either.

Amber eyes continued to watch them until she dropped down to look at the puppy again. "Our dear Fuhrer, of course. Falman was sent to the north, Breda the west, and Fuery was to the south," she hesitated adding in Havoc, knowing for certain no matter where this went he'd ask about him. And was she prepared to tell him that a homunculus paralyzed his subordinate? Riza wasn't certain.

She pressed forward for now.

"I remained in Central, but instead of your aide and bodyguard I was made the Fuhrer's."

Eyes snapped closed in frustration. She hoped he understood what that meant. With the corruption, the disbanding and the Fuhrer what he was they were being used as hostages, her especially. That being the reason why earlier her 'liability' bit had hit so hard. Happening once was bad enough.

Honestly, Roy wouldn't call this bitter, itchy feeling "anger"--it's more an intense kind of frustration than anything, and he shows it as he leans back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he scrutinizes Lieutenant Hawkeye across the table.

"I should probably have you write a report, as well, Lieutenant," he says briefly, looking a bit pained. Being stuck on this ship while Amestris seemingly falls to pieces is anxiety-inducing at best. He thinks that a few hours in the Sensoriums would do him good. With his gloves, of course.

"What about Second Lieutenant Havoc?" He doubts that Havoc would have been sent east--to put one of Mustang's crew in place in Eastern Command would be a bad idea, considering the amount of time Mustang had spent making connections there. He can't imagine what else would have been done with him, though, because to place him with any of the other crew would make it easier for the Colonel to use them as he was used to doing, and leaving him in Central was definitely not an option if the Führer was keeping hostages, which is definitely was it seems like to Roy.

Riza kept her face as passive as ever. Despite all the conflicting emotions, she had long since grown that mask. Faltering only in the worst of times, and so far this wasn't a 'worst of times'. She kept her eyes level with his, honest as she read his features.

At his suggestion, her lips firmed as she thought. She wondered how hard it was to be away from home while everything went down, but wasn't it a bit better he was taken before things got bad? Riza found herself constantly wondering what was happening... the end of that final battle With a breath, she spoke. "Very well, Colonel," she responded in the ordered voice, "however, I do expect you not to run at the sight of anything that appears to be paperwork." There will be a lot in that report.

At his next words, Riza had already leveled her fingers to her lips in thought. Mind carefully categorizing what to say, no matter where it went the result would still be poor. Expression stayed firm, careful, and then her voice resounded. "He retired just before the team was broken up."

Edited 2010-06-17 23:36 (UTC)

He chuckles faintly, eyes filled with some odd kind of mirthless humor as he says, "It's been long enough, Lieutenant, that I think paperwork would be welcomed." Any semblance of normalcy, right? Which is not to say that he will enjoy reading about the crumbling of his country--because he won't.

Riza's words have his eyes narrowing, because, though her expression had remained as stolid as usual, he knows Jean Havoc, and he is well aware that the man would have to be forced into retirement by God himself to make it stick for any amount of time. Havoc loved his job, despite the myriad negatives of military life--why would he retire?

Roy is silent for a long moment, considering his Lieutenant's expression, that stubborn glint of withheld information in her eyes, and wonders what exactly she is keeping from him that she would have to embroider the truth about one of his subordinates.

"What were his reasons?" He'll keep probing until you give him something to work with, Riza, and he promises not to set too many people on fire if you tell him the truth.

"Glad to hear it," although her expression didn't change the tone rang in an almost familiar way, "I'll be sure to find you plenty to do then." That was easy. Teasing him in her way was easy, everything else about this conversation wasn't easy, but still... there was much to be said, and Riza kept her eyes trained on him.

She hadn't lied so far, had managed to say just enough and he hadn't yet exploded. Yet, it was also Roy. He was going to probe for answers to questions she wasn't ready to answer and this was one. She could say 'injuries', but that would leave too much to the imagination. Possibly make it worse than it were. (Yet how worse could possibly never having the ability to walk again get?)

Her expression tightened as she thought, that night playing over in her mind. The Colonel almost dying himself, and comforting her in his own brand and making fun of her tears. She thought carefully, before sighing.

"Injuries. And I'm afraid I will not go anymore into that topic, sir. As you said... you didn't live it and don't deserve to face it for a second time."

Edited 2010-06-18 21:48 (UTC)

"Wonderful," he says blandly, snapping some tortilla-flavored tray for emphasis.

Chewing thoughtfully, he waits for Riza to find the right words, well aware that she's doing her best to skate around the issue, knowing full well that she's not going to be giving him the whole truth when she answers, while also knowing that it will be nothing but the truth. At least his subordinates never lie to him.

When she does answer, he goes still, thoughts exploding into a frenzy of inferences, conclusions, and imagined scenarios, as well as different brands of "injury". His eyes are trained on Riza's the whole time, but he isn't seeing them--he's seeing lists upon lists, and scenes upon scenes of soldiers retiring due to injury, men and women leaving in wheelchairs, on crutches... In coffins, he thinks, but he shakes the thought out of his head with a darkening of his eyes and deliberate blink.

Questions spin in his mind, but he holds them back at Riza's words. She has no need to relive whatever happened there. It is a hard concession, but eventually he gets himself to admit that it's incidental, anyway--the only information he truly needs is that Havoc is out of the picture (if he even needs that much).

"Is he safe, wherever he is?" His gaze is intent again as he flickers back to the present, lips pressed thin. He won't ask about the injuries, but his worry is not assuaged in the least.

Riza could tell from his look what he was thinking, and despite the fact he was probably miles away she kept her gaze on his. Eyes light, trying to say while dangerous, he wasn't in any harm right now. There wasn't a chance she could tell him exactly what happened yet, if she ever told him that much. When, and if, that time came she would have to be careful of those details as well.

Yet, Roy came back to the world and she nodded some. Thinking carefully. "Relatively speaking, anyway, he was safer than the rest of us," she responded, because Roy had to understand by now that the others--all of them-- were in danger. Though she thought back to her last memories of Amestris. "Before I arrived here, you had spoken to him on a phone several hours before. If anything, his actions certainly showed that he was fine," the voice was lighter now, thinking back, a small hint of a smirk found itself on her features at that memory. A brief flicker of happiness in a dangerous situation that was; Havoc 'returning' in his own way.

"The loyalty of your subordinates never falters, sir," she said simply. The words easy, trying to say without so many words, they'd all returned to him in some form.

He nods, looking thoughtful and grim, though he allows himself a faint smile at her comment on his team's loyalty.

"I wouldn't have picked them if they faltered, Lieutenant," he says succinctly, considering the slop on his tray as he tries to file the discomfort he feels at the news of Havoc's injury-induced retirement away for later examination. He doesn't want to accidentally ask questions he ought not to ask, and he's fairly positive it'll happen if he stays on his current train of thought.

Flipping through the earlier bits of the conversation as he eats, his eyes flicker occasionally. Abruptly and rather deliberately, he focuses on Riza again, eyebrow lifted.

"Edward tells me the Führer is involved with the Homunculi?" He's hoping that she doesn't have any qualms about disclosing information on this topic, because he is very, very interested.

Ah, she smirked ever so slightly at his comment.

"And yet they stuck by your side even when you pushed your paperwork off of them, I'd hardly be surprised if they didn't in this situation," she said calmly, jokingly. While, of course, it was teasing she did continue in that way. Home wasn't safe, not in the least for them at the moment. Philospher's stones...

As he focused on her again, Riza visibly straightened if only a bit. The Fuhrer, huh? Of course he'd be interested in that topic, and it was relatively safer than the topic of Havoc.

"Correct, sir. The homunculi have apparently been behind the scenes of everything that's ever happened in Amestris," she said carefully, hoping he got the meaning. Ishval. "The Fuhrer is a homunculus himself, the one called Wrath, I believe. But even he... isn't really in charge of the state," she spoke carefully, "nor are the other higher-ups, who are just as on the side of the homunculi as he is."

What could she say? For a moment, the image of that night with Selim replayed in her head. Selim the first homunculus, the line of her mouth became thinner at the thought. The sensation of blood lust still as nerve wracking as it was then, especially in that small frame. The memory of those shadows wrapping against her neck threateningly, they were all still there. Funnily enough, they almost amused her now when she thought of it...

Edited 2010-06-19 02:50 (UTC)

He returns Riza's smirk in kind, a glint in his eyes.

"Well, seeing as I allow them to complain without threat of physical harm every few months, they could hardly decide to desert me. I am, after all, quite the catch as far as commanding officers go." And as far as other things go, if he says so himself, but he keeps that thought in his head.

Eyes darkening, he turns this information over in his head, still made quite uneasy by the concept of living, breathing Homunculi. He had doubted Ed's veracity on the subject of the Führer's apparently anomalous physical state, but as the words hit home--from Riza's mouth, this time--he admits that he had avoided that truth because of how utterly painful it was to even being to consider such a thing. Despite the obvious fact of Roy's goal to gain the position of Führer, and any consequent grudge he had against Führer Bradley, the man with the eyepatch was still his sovereign, and Roy works for the military. Having your leader deceive you--let alone an entire country--in such a monstrous, insidious way is not something that men like Roy are built to cope with. In laymen's terms, the Colonel is allergic to duplicity.

Because of his swirling thoughts, it takes a bit longer than it ordinarily would for the underlying meaning in Riza's words to register. When he finally makes the connection, his eyes widen, and he looks utterly horrified.

"What purpose did that massacre serve to these beasts? To enact a genocide of that scale, to instigate a civil war without due military cause, that's... unfathomable. It reneges on every promise to protect the people we've ever made. This--" He pauses, breathes, and continues on a slightly different track. "You mean to say that our entire national history has been choreographed by a cult of meta-humans to reach some..." Goal. Circle, Amestris is a circle. What was it Ed said? "A circle of violence and blood painted by annexing and civil war." God, this runs deep. Throw in that muttering about the Devil's research... Something that he had missed the first time he had this conversation clicks, and his eyes pinch shut, his exhale slow and pained.

"Why would they want to perform human transmutation on an entire country?"

A small smile.

"Quite the catch indeed, sir," she responded easily. Even if you're an idiot sometimes.

Riza didn't say anything as she watched Roy's expressions and eyes. Letting the thoughts run through his head and form. Sooner or later, and she knew it would be sooner as she had added the kindle to the fire, he'd come to the answer. She only knew half of it herself. Riza had been filled in for the most part on that part of the situation, but there was hardly enough time for her to get all the details. And she wasn't an alchemist to understand everything, but she understood well what they meant. So she waited, letting him think it through. When he spoke about Ishval and easily moved to the next step she sealed her mouth closed. She knew he'd understand to that much, at the very least.

Riza nodded some at his final words. So he came down to that at least. Pushing the slop away in order to fold her arms on the table, she took a moment to level her eyes knowingly with him. "I'm sure if you try, you know better than I that answer, sir."

Nonetheless, she continued. "Every war Amestris has been in has been a so called 'point'. Human energy, death and sacrifice were needed, I suppose. To create..." she paused to let the first sink in, knowing he'll know the answer when she says it, "the Philospher's Stone."

Quieting a moment, Riza's posture allowed it to be known she wasn't finished, but rather letting that information sink in. She wasn't on terrible ground now. It was somehow easier talking about this than anything else.

"The homunculi exist on the power of the Philospher's Stone, the one who created them calls himself 'Father'. Before I arrived here, several hours or so, he put the country wide circle into play," she closed her eyes, "it's to my understanding every citizen of Amestris was made into the stone, but do to the Elric brothers' father, this was reversed and they returned to their bodies. This Father tried and managed to contain the power of a so called god."

She looked back at him, a frown on her features. "Before I arrived here we were in the so called... final battle with him."

Edited 2010-06-21 10:24 (UTC)

Quite the catch indeed. He would have preened if he weren't too busy trying to think through a haze of absolute apoplexy.

Yes, he had known that answer, though he's not sure why. The connection had never been drawn in his head between human transmutation and that legendary, catastrophic stone, unless a certain blond alchemist's history was considered, but it certainly has been now.

He sighs, sincerely hoping that the carbon dioxide seeping from his lungs will carry some of this anxiety away with it. He is tempted to sigh again when he realizes that his anxiety remains overabundant, curled up in a highly unpleasant ball in the pit of his stomach, reminiscent of some satanic cat. Instead, he pushes his own tray out of the way, mirroring Riza's posture, eyes dark and intent and serious.

"The Philosopher's Stone was created in order to raise this "Father" to the level of God?" The question is rhetorical in every way. He scoffs, scientist's theology positively gleeful with the stupidity of some people. He would never argue religion aloud--he's not Fullmetal, but he certainly doesn't agree with it. To hear of something so foolish being the motive for such a monumental crime as manipulating an entire country for centuries... He's morbidly amused.

Eyes flashing mutinously, filled with cackling and flame and quite a lot of bitterness, he says "Well, I certainly hope Father enjoyed his delusion." A pause, and he sobers up, eyes hardening. "Everyone in Amestris died... and Fullmetal and Alphonse's father revived them? I wasn't aware that their father was an alchemist."

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this week is royai festival too bad it's improbable [CLOSED]

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