"I know how things work, sir," the boy continued, laying the watch across his lap.
"Well... Brother does that, every so often. He really should think before he tries to attack people."
It wasn't easy to imagine how he had been mistaken, because Al could swear that even from a distance, a hanged man looked very different from a tent post.
Of all the castle's "guests," Roy was the only one not allowed to leave. Ever.
Once you promised me that you would dance on my grave. I'm keeping you to that promise, you know.
Around when the hour of nine rolls up to the door, fat as a bellied barfly, Roy has already taken his jacket off the hook and has gone outside to walk.
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
He decided, then, quite firmly, that he wasn't ever going to drink coffee again, with anybody. It was too risky.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
"When you put it that way--" Roy conceded. "But it does seem improbable. You promised me a murderer, but are you so sure that it was no accident?"
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
He gently turned Ed's head so that he faced the camera, and with just a little luck, Ling would catch that amazing expression Ed always had when he came.
According to Hughes, Major Mustang was close to promotion and as his subordinate, it was her prerogative to try and help him to reach the next rung of the ladder.
You've only been awake for thirty-six hours, staged a coup, fought a bunch of monsters and nearly died a few times. It's not as if you've had a tough day.
rated:M-L-V | GEN | Mangaverse | post-series | SP: up to ch 108 | DF: ch 105 | Dr Marcoh | Alex Louis Armstrong | Alphonse Elric | Cdr Grumman | Dr Knox | Edward Elric | Riza Hawkeye | Roy Mustang | death | mystery
Well, it sure looks like the rumors were true about Wednesday nights, Ed thought, easing inconspicuously along the edges of the room. But I never knew so many soldiers were gay.
"Don't go to sleep," he murmurs into Ed's hair, and thinks of their mother, long ago, telling a story about spinning straw into gold.
And there was a certain look they shared, the one they both used when they thought Ed was being unreasonably stubborn.
This wasn't really what he'd been expecting from surreptitious wartime sex. He'd thought it would be some kind of quickie round the back of the latrines.
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
Even though she wasn’t an alchemist, alchemy tended to stake a claim on all who were associated with it.
Ed did not want to die without seeing Alphonse again.
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
Roy was silent when Maes came back several minutes later. If he heard the sounds of retching from the bathroom, he didn't say.
It’s February in Central. There’s nothing better to do.
"Honestly, Fullmetal, I'm beginning to think that you're more trouble than you're worth."
On Thursdays, Riza Hawkeye usually skipped the morning work and went to the office at noon.
Roy was enchanted by the sound of her voice, pure like dewdrops in the morning.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
“Sir,” he says, and Roy could be imagining it, but he thinks Falman’s usually flat tone has a hint of panic in it. “Have you read this memo yet?”
It hurt, somehow, to know that there was no one now who could see past the mask if he didn't want them to.
...the two men drank Roy's good whiskey, clinked glasses and Maes exclaimed that It was about damn time.
PR, we need PR, he kept telling himself, but at this point he didn't think he could string more than two sentences together.
I didn't know on the phone. I didn't know on the train.
They could profane the inner sanctum; it would be a perfect cat burglary. Her father would never know a thing.
Only some things, he knew, could be repaired. Not every broken sword could be re-forged.
He recalled lifting it cautiously up to his nose, and then back away from the stinging, spicy herbs along with the smouldering scent of tobacco.
"You're late," Ed tells him flatly. "You should have been here one minute and forty four seconds ago."
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
He has seen the desert. Seen her scorched and scarred beneath his steady hands. Stepped in her tattered remains, tasted her ashes with every breath.
Fullmetal smiled a long, slow smile, the sort that promised evil things were in the near future, and put his boots up on Roy's desk.
Ed opened his mouth, and then closed it. "Visibility is that important to you, huh?" he said.
It was so terribly painful, really, the way he would smile when he was about to cry.
He hadn't asked Hughes to follow him to this place.
It was getting kind of depressing, though, by the time the color red alone would make him wonder about the child; the flash of a cardinal, a sprig of bright berries, the gaudiness of nighttime tavern lights, and the scarlet lipstick of bar women.
"You'll be up against the wall before you know it, Mustang, right where you belong, eating the bullets of a firing squad for breakfast."
"Don't look so downcast!" orders Mustang, grinning maniacally. "Our honour is at stake! Don't let me down! Sometimes you just have to take one for the team!"
rated:K-L | M+F S+S | Mangaverse | pre-series | SP: no plot spoilers but stars characters we meet up t | Briggs Bears | Buccaneer | Miles | Olivia Mira Armstrong | Roy Mustang | 354th FG HQ | Rebecca Catalina
There were plenty of reasons she might have had two strapping policemen in her apartment first thing in the morning, but none of them involved a tiny, grouchy kid sitting at her kitchen table and scratching the dirt out of the woodgrain with his thum
They are his signposts and self-inscriptions, cordoning off the book as his own, as something he possesses.
"You finally took my advice and settled down! Not quite what I had in mind, of course, but I'm so happy for you!"