I need to stop doing this!

He needed to stop doing this. Phoning a General in command of one of the military branches and asking them if he could, in addition to the usual exchange of information with their Heads of Intelligence, have a momentary private discussion concerning financial matters. What made things worse is that there were only three Generals who commanded the other military headquarters outside of Central, and so far ... the two of the three he had contacted and made this request to both agreed, though Lieutenant General Tsukino was a bit more ... harsh about it? Or less willing, than compared to Brigadier General Black.

But alas, after a bit of trouble, he finally made his way to Fort Briggs, and before waltzing in, with appropriate clearance, he took a moment to inhale the crisp air of the area. It was truly a natural majesty, whose splendor enhanced the formidable, impenetrable 'Wall of Briggs.' Not to mention, although he wasn't much fond of extreme weather, the cold was ... enjoyable, to a degree, as well as the fresh air. If he ever needed to flee Central, he made it a note in the back of his mind to try to make his way to transfer to Briggs, maybe.

But, well. This place ran like CLOCKWORK! Every soldier, engineer, scientist, doctor, and personnel were about minding their business, practically ignoring the flabbergasted Hei, who was seeing the iron unity of the North firsthand, efficient, flawless, and damn productive. Completely unlike most parts in Central, it was bewildering to the poor Amestrian-Xingese, who had to put up with occaisional incompetance, common inebriation, and overall dirty workplaces (beer cans, cigarette butts, and Truth knows what). But, since this fortress's men worked to well, it was hard for Hei to distinguish who was possibly the Head of Intelligence ... Murazar Dauthi, was the name the General had told him? Without Lt. Colonel Dauthi as his guide, he was utterly lost in this place. What to do. What to do. Ultimately, Hei choose the smart thing to do. Stay put, while staying bundled up, and making sure he wasn't over-exerting his right arm, now cradled in a sling from an injury a few days back. At a certain festival of chaos. That was why he was here to talk finance.

Murazar swung his Lt. Colonel cape over his shoulders and let it hang there ever so gently. The rest of his uniform was just standard black covert operations clothing, thin but warm as could be. He had his pistols in their holsters on his legs and his bags of special dirt hung on his belt at his waistline. He proceeded to walk past everyone, by now everyone knew well enough to not drop what they were doing and use drill and ceremoney. They knew to simply ignore him unless addressed and then do it. Once he made it down to the messenger from central he sighed lightly to himself and put on his mask of frigid frozen calm. The calm before a storm.

He appeared behind the man silently and simply spoke softly with a raised eyebrow at how bundled up he was. " Evening. I am Murazar Dauthi. You must be the Messenger, we can talk as we walk to Reilas' office. She should be waiting for us." He motioned for Hei Bei to follow and made each movement exagerrated and careful. As if each movement had to be precise in order to waste the least amount of energy possible while he moved with a sense of elegance and flair. As he motioned to move he began to walk at a steady pace the shortest route possible to Reilas office, although it was still a fair distance away.

Formality was to be expected, as when he saw this man approaching him, uniform and all ... not to mention the covert ops outfit, Hei was pretty sure this was the Lieutenant Colonel. Again, formality was to be expected, on Hei's part. Because his right arm was injured, he could not salute. In addition, his left arm was holding something that he was loathe to relinquish his grip ... ever. So, he did the only thing he could, bow. A deep subservient bow to the one who was his superior in rank and in position, and apparently didn't think much of him, but Hei was used to being trampled on by Stuka, so it barely bothered him. He did take a note to formally give his own introduction, once his guide finished speaking and began moving. But, he made sure to bow as low as he could, short of kow-towing, bending at a near ninety-degree angle, and then rising back up slowly. Whilst bowing, the own cloak he was wearing to accomodate his right arm slipped a bit, and he unfortunately made a grab for it ... with said arm, which was by far the dumbest thing he tried as it hurt like hell, even though he was supposed to be virtually immune to pain. Either way, his mistake unfortunately made him a bit behind as the Lt. Colonel had turned and walked on.

"Yes, sir was Hei's immediate response to Lt. Colonel Dauthi's suggestion of talking while moving to the General's office and gesture to move, and he despite the fact that he had lost a moment of pace that put the clearly-knows-where-he-was-going officer, Hei managed to catch up rather quickly.

"But, ah, pardon, Lt. Colonel Dauthi. I am not the Messenger of Central. That position is Captain Natsume's. ... I am the Head of Intelligence to Central Command." he hastily added to the last words he had spoken, a bit apologetic, as he didn't want to offend this man while correcting him somewhat on his mistake. It was a bad quirk of Hei's, he didn't like getting called the wrong rank, nor favor people mixing up what his job was with someone else's. Either way, he hoped he hadn't tread on any toes or lines with that correction, though if he did, it was a bit lost as he noted tanks. TANKS. Tanks were a rarity for him in the Amestrian military, as he never could operate them, or qualify to support them, instead being a blood-maker and blood-shedder on the front lines. And these machines of destruction were a marvelous thing to him, so ... seeing quite a number of them in maintanence, upon entering another hallway and a turn to end his sight-seeing at that moment, evoked this line, before focusing his attention back to his guide and following.

"... beautiful ..."

Murazar stopped a moment as Hei Bei grabbed his cloak before continuing on as if he hadn't stopped. He rose a eyebrow as he looked at the other man, Bit o' bravery at least. Though he is intimidated or scared of me. Oh well, better set some things straight. Even if he is four years or so older than me, he's way too weak compared to some people. I've been in briggs for far too long... Heh. He looked over at him and spoke sharply, " Listen kiddo, cut the formalities. I'm a mercenary, even if i'm pretty much in the Amestrian military, I still hold a contract to obey only one person. Also, despite your position in the Intelligence community you haven't made an impression yet for me to consider you more than someone who gets told a bunch of stuff and tries to make do with it all. Regardless, what brings you to briggs rather than making one of my associates or co-workers retrieve it for me?"

He noticed him look at the tanks as they passed them by in bewilderment, The kid spoke a word of a language he didn't yet understand. Xingese from the sound of it, the tone and his facial expression gave away however what he thought even without understanding the word itself. He rose an eyebrow before speaking." Alchemy is far more powerful than a tank, although the design is awesome in power for normal soldiers. It still is nothing to those here at briggs who are alchemists. Regardless if you want we can see about looking at the tanks more if time permits later."

' ... ' if he wasn't here to beg, he would have snapped. They didn't brand him as a demon in central for no reason, but then again. Briggs soldiers had to be a bunch of deluded idiotic snowcone-loving apes to not know that he was a monster in human form, vicious, brutal, carrying an arsenal designed to slaughter with ease, and custom-tailored to his own brutality and strength. Why, he had a mind to smash this man's brains into paste against the walls, the NERVE. He had heard those comments, all of them, even though he was fascinated by tanks, which he had never truly encountered in the Amestrian front, though he met knockoff Drachman ones, the sharp tone of the guide was really pissing him off. Still, he kept some of his composure.

"My apologies, sir. It's a habit engrained to me. A mannerism that I cannot abandon, no matter how hard I try. Mercenary or no, you are an officer of the Amestrian military, I am obligated to treat you with unwavering respect. Though ...

I must apologize for being nothing more than an insignificant being to you, even if I have only come to this job within the past week alone. But then again, in this affair, I do like to keep a low as possible profile, especially handy when my predecessor was nothing more than an incompetant lout who did exactly as you say. Please don't compare me to to him, sir, I'm not a wind-up toy in matters of intelligence. After all, you should be familiar with all the in-talk of Central's current state? I don't get told anything. I am given nothing. I literally am nothing, that I do consent, but, despite it all, I have something.

Must boggle Equivalent Exchange, no?" he responded, the trace of nervousness gone, which had earlier been from discomfort and the cold finally affecting him since he stood still too long. Now that he was moving, he had returned to his elegant manner and majestic style, but still apologetic, or seemingly so. Oh, and he hadn't answered the Lt. Colonel's questions.

"Ah. Yes. Sorry. Didn't answer your question, sir, my bad. I was hoping that we'd have a peaceful exchange of ... well ... essential, but not overly-classified information, that and to speak to the Lieutenant General about the current financial issues that the other branches seem to be suffering from" he replied with a pleasant smile, a now-cheery tone whilst elegant flowing about his words in a bit of a melodic slur that was more suitable to his outward persona, which was against the serious and revering figure he was just about ... fifteen seconds ago? If this buffoon kept trying his patience, his right arm wouldn't be restrained by the bandages, and god help the world if he reconstructs his Zweihander and wields his shotgun, since even though he'd be taken down, he'd STILL cause major damage to this place and to its personnel. Major being the equivalent of possibly making it incapable of functioning ... ever. But, alas, he came to beg, and he didn't come without anything.

Murazar chuckled and waited until he finished before speaking in a more at ease sort of tone, " Good, at least you have restraint. If you didn't I wouldn't even bother helping you or trying, although you might want to try and conceal your rage better. I can see from your posture, facial expressions even the ones you attempt to hide that appear in less than a second, and your body language that you want to try to kill me. Although you might injure me, although I doubt it you would die long before you did much damage. I'd rather leave it up to imagination on the how. So keep that restraint handy, it comes in useful the more you have of it."

He paused and motioned towards the tanks again speaking differently than before," Yes tanks are wonderful inventions, agreed on that. Although there is more poweful forms of firepower tanks have their special role in war and fulfill it well. Also you seem to in time of course, or through proving and trials of fire. To be perhaps a good or great intelligence head, thats still to be seen. Although you might want to try and rein in composure and calm for everything you do or most of it. " He paused as they continued the brisk pace. Even though hei bei looked like he was the king of the damn realm they were in murazar held himself like a shadow.

Every movement was near-perfect, it conserved energy and left him ready to either strike, evade, or defend in a infinitely possible manner. He seemed to disappear from the world unless you looked for him or something next to hei bei. He spoke again as if amused, despite how hei bei acted and walked. Murazar seemed so unconcerned with him that he was either overly arrogant or the power and experience gap was really that wide. From what murazar could see for himself the kid had little to no experience in either spy craft or fighting and the power level was way to far away from each other." Equivalent Exchange. A funny concept, especially if you bend the rules so much nothing is taken from you and you only gain. Regardless we could talk about that for a long time. Right now we can talk about whatever you wish until we reach the office which is soon anyway." He paused and spoke again as an afterthought." Also I order you to stop saying sir, using my rank, or any such. If you must refer to me, stick to Fox. Its what the intelligence community calls me anyway." They would arrive within minutes to the office, once they were past the outcatwalks they were walking along.

"Good. I still haven't lost my touch ..." years ago, probably longer than this buffoon had even dreamt of being in the military, Hei had long learnt to master his rage. Those quivering twitches and throbbing veins, the unbalanced and uneasy breath as well as the brisk pace he had taken. All a feint! After all, the days of Father, days that no one would ever, for any reason, know since there is no proof, no word, no paperwork, had seen him to be trained to repress his insanity ... that was why he functioned in society rather well, until his berserk buttons were pushed. No, he was the unfeeling and unflinching one when not pushed into battle, unwilling to let the cup be overfilled ... after all, that was why he was both an assassin and a spy. What his opponents saw and observed outside of battle, was only what he let them see. The true feral and insane nature inside of him could only be cut loose when he was caught in the throes of war, and only then. Beyond that, he assumed absolute control, and played the easily offended but affable man to the amusement of others, good to see that the Fox lived true to the rumors ... he was a loyal mercenary through and through, though not a proponent of strict military discipline and foolish all-around. After all, the way he walked. Hei was aware of three moments he could kill him. It was easy to kill a human being, for him even more so. He was on the borders of no longer being confined to human reality, after all, and while he DID understand that the arse ahead was feigning weakness and just going on unconcerned ... he guard wasn't always up, a most unfortunate circumstance.

Those three moments were when he first approached Hei and had turned to lead the way. The next came that witty response about how Hei hadn't left enough of an 'impression,' a slight break in his pace, as though he were amused, though that was most likely intentional. The third was his mention of what he wish to be called.

'Sloppy. You'd think that if you boast to be impeccable, you'd at least take care not to leave any openings at least ... or at least not fake ones that are difficult to defend anyway. Risk is not the best option.'

How to explain how the paradoxical man felt? He was amused. But his exterior had been (incorrectly) assumed to be annoyance, and of course fury, just as he so wished to convey, but it was so peculiar how the fool thought he couldn't do damage. The incident of Drachma, '02 was entirely his fault. Well. His and Stuka's. They'd led the a splinter faction of the Drachman army right to Amestris's front doors, but at the same time, Stuka in drunken fury, had killed most of the primary gunners with his sniper rifle ... without the scope and Hei was left to swatting artillery shells away from the Drachman line, causing it to either explode on him and inflict some damage, or to be flung off to the sides and detonate against Briggs. Not pretty. Their entire squad, which had more than just the dynamic duo, managed to get retrieved, without informing whoever was in charge at the time and before they could be identified by the North soldiers. This hilarious mission ended in success, as they killed off the extremist leaders of the militants as requested by the Drachman government, but ended up costing their paychecks since they brought enemies back home as 'souvenirs' as their boss put it. Needless to say, dozens of tanks, brutalized, APCs smashed to bits, helicopters were blown to bits, and soldiers by the hundreds were slain ... though Hei had to admit he shared that score with Stuka in terms of sheer level of mayhem and devastation. Still, Briggs may be the one of the most praised military branches in the world, but not even a bullet to his head would stop Hei from somehow, someway, in some form, blow up a VERY large portion of the base and killing a lot of its personnel.

His style of combat perhaps lacked finesse or skill, compared to this urchin here, but it was no less effective. His whole life was meant for war, after all ... the most gruesome aspect of human violence packed into condensed battles with hundreds of thousands of people being sacrificed to enflame and embroil the conflict. And if he had survived conflict after conflict of bleak hopeless situations, outnumbered and outgunned, outclassed in every way, yet managing to kill all who stood in his way, probably more killing than this pitiful fool of a human meatsack could comprehend, his skill in combat had to have more worth than 'imagination' could permit. It was just so amusing! Here, a child was practically calling him a juvenile, no ... infantile miserable excuse of a soldier and spy? He was carrying Amestris's secrets long before this fool was involved with the military.

”So, ah … Fox, sir. I’m sorry, but even if you ordered me, I can’t really drop the term, I pray you understand, it’s been beaten into my head many times over. Can’t really seem to part with it.

So, ah, pardon, but since I’m not quite familiar with Briggs personnel, I just know you’re an Alchemist, but … what is the title you’ve earned for that? Forgive me for being curious, sir.” he continued, cheery, now genuinely interested, hence the questions. He just ignored everything Dauthi had to say and only heard the last comment about an open-ended discussion, and he was interested in learning the Alchemist Title he had earned himself, or so he heard, since he was yet unsure as to who was which alchemist or State Alchemist. His composure was not vaulted, but flawless at this point, and that little anger and killing intent from earlier, was nothing compared to what was truly burning inside Hei’s soul, though, as described in the last eight hundred words, not a single bit came out, for he was done testing the rumors of the Fox’s perceptiveness. The human might notice his cheery exterior was not genuine, but was most likely unable to discern anything else beyond that.

He rose a eyebrow as he watched the man before him before grinning as if to himself and then letting it fall. So he had more to hide, he'd find it. All it would take was time, nothing could hide forever. No matter how well hidden. Plus he had been prepared from before he had approached the 'man' at the beginning. He replied simply to his question deciding on honesty. After all it could easily be found, " At this moment it is Death-Wind. It will change soon enough however to something far more descriptive on how dangerous I really am, but thats a story yet to be told."

He already had plenty of plans in motion and decided to set this kid upon them, if not actively just aware that great things were going to be set in motion. That and he felt arrogance coming from the 'kid'. To him the man before him was still a child, someone who wasn't on par with him yet nor someone who seemed very experienced in as many parts of life as possible. Even if the kid was a handful of years older than him he still only expected from what it seemed like his past storys and just how he walked, talked, and held himself more of a crazy wild man rather than someone with a plan of action and could improvise successfully.

He seemed more like a warrior for the frontlines than a true spy, someone who couldn't just mask emotion, but actually fake any other emotion so well that it seems true because you are using the true emotion when it feels wrong. He asked while changing the way he walked to just what any normal person on the street walked like. Just one of uncaring and relaxation. He would appear off his guard like he always did, and yet he was always on it and prepared. He didn't need eyes or ears to know if he was attacked after all. You had to master all of your senses in order to be prepared.

BUMP