The Fire of Change

"I can make it fun for you."

Well, this was certainly deviating from plan. He'd intended this to be a fun little excursion and little more, and hadn't thought that the General would get so angry over a little bit of spilt milk... or, well, searing hot cheese, but... really, what was the difference, aside from a few hours of churning?

However, she'd made it more than a little tricky. Pistols would give too much away. If he attempted to use the Hunter, he'd find himself shattering the glass and creating far too much of a scene. Respiratory Alchemy and Bloodbomb Alchemy were both developed to be lethal, and Pain Alchemy wouldn't work effectively enough, and had a margin for error that he could quite easily end up with a torn jugular at this point. Hmm, what to do, what to do...

Doubling back, taking a shot through his thin silver locks, he scanned the General up and down. She was certainly a tricky one, but... two could play at that game. So long as he avoided skin contact, she wouldn't be able to reshape the metal... a game plan had indeed been devised.

In an instant, the man clasped a Talon from the lower echelons of his bandolier, concealed and obscured by his jacket; silently, he removed it from its simplistic black leather strap. Doing his best to keep the young General's eyes occupied with the 'twitchings' of his other hand, far more elevated, closer to the blade of the sharpened butter knife, he took her attire, the black gown, to his advantage, and snaked his arm, and, consequently, the throwing knife he clutched closer and closer to the air surrounding her legs.

Two could play at this game, indeed. "Tell me, General, how familiar are you with the human anatomy?" He smiled to himself. "Of course, as most battle-readied tacticians, you would know that the jugular is a swift enough way to put an end to an enemy at close range, but... do you know of the other major veins and arteries in the body?" He let out a cackle; closer to a pant, it was hushed, and hurried. This wasn't a state he enjoyed. He growled the last third of his taunt. "Of particular significance is the femoral artery, located in the thigh. Now, biologist and alchemist as I am, I know the twists and turns of this artery, and I know that the majority of its length happens to lie closer to the inside of the leg."

With a sharp whistle, the man gently cocked his head towards his arm, now suspended barely half an inch, oh so accurate and oh so precise, from the flesh of her leg. "Oh, this part, I love. Are you quick enough? No-one's ever dared to try, before~!" The man chanted, before giggling once more. He knew he'd have a good three seconds before his blood decorated the floor of the sphere, and welled out further; and he'd make good use of every last one of them. With another giggle, he thought quickly of just how wonderful close-combat tactics were. Almost as good as a da Vinci painting, or one of Bach's rhapsodies. Sun Tzu was just as much a genius as the two aforementioned artisans, it would seem.

New appreciations and revelations aside, the man hummed gently to himself. "You said it yourself, this country is in despair. Front page news tomorrow: General and Major killed in a standoff at a political party. Think about it, for a second, Miss Tsukino." He'd levelled the playing field. She'd calm down. They all did.

https://youtu.be/8TSD2RbhO88

"Hot," Reila said coolly, her eyes in a deadlock with his despite knowing the precise positioning of the blade just a breath away from her inner thigh. "If I didn't know better, I would say you were trying to flirt with me." A glint entered the iris of her eyes, gold seeming to become illuminated in the flickering hiss of a single flame: the desire to overpower.

"Oh, this part, I love. Are you quick enough? No-one's ever dared to try, before~!" He was mad. Sometimes men lost their minds from too much manslaughter. Could this one be likewise? It mattered not, for as manic as he was, no anger resided in her--no desire to use the once butter knife to end his blabbering. In truth, Reila Tsukino was just as amused as he. When he giggled like a deranged lunatic, she felt regaled laughter fall from her lips all the same. This was a game that they were playing. See who gets caught first. However, it was not her military rank that was being compromised here; it was his. "You said it yourself, this country is in despair. Front page news tomorrow: General and Major killed in a standoff at a political party. Think about it, for a second, Miss Tsukino." That second could easily kill either of them. But neither would die alone. Dying together with this silver-haired joker would be an insult to all she stood for, therefore she stood very still. He knew who she was, yet his own identity remained that of a mystery. Intriguing. However, he was a major, meaning that he was indeed stepping out of line. Regardless, he was sadly mistaken concerning the situation he had just irreparably tangled himself in.

Curls of pink fell over her shoulders as she moved, clasping her free arm around his neck and pulling him closer to breathe in his ear. "This is why I don't wear jewelry." In that exact moment, the knife grazed her leg and her alchemy, already partially activated, overflowed with pillowed light across the dance floor. All metal objects within a short distance of her flew back out of range, including the held Talon, which was quite capable of being reversed to stab into himself. However, Reila maintained her focus on it so it remained where it was in stasis just a blink away from his thigh via magnetism. Alchemy, what a lifesaver. She did well not to feel ashamed using underhanded methods. If she won and no one died, what did it matter in the end? A small smile graced her pale lips and she took both of his hands, waltzing to whatever sweet tune was droning through the suspended speakers. "Shall we dance away your horrid misunderstanding or shall I freeze you to death?"

"Apologies for not noticing you Acra, I thought you were still in the hospital for some reason. I'm glad your at least getting fresh air and getting better, if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to call me directly. Otherwise, I’m doing fine as I am. Same old Mercenary me, had to change my hair because someone almost killed me a little while ago. Silver hair picks you out of a crowd fast." He chuckled lightly. "Indeed... um...I'll remember that...I’ll leave you be for now. You seem busy." He had quickly fled the awkward situation and that was when he bumped into Shula.

"You look nice too, Acra. And your accent is improving! And I can just as soon as I-" She trailed off as Csilla joined them. He greeted her with a small wave. Watching as Shula hugged Csilla clearly a bit nervous about the day.

Her arms wrapped round his shoulders and he wished he could offer more support then the feeble waist hug he gave. She smelt of lotus's a sweet and not overpowering perfume. He had met many girls whose perfume made him want to wretch from the smell that was somewhere between skank and skunk. But no...he could smell this scent all day.

She stood and began to walk away. Hugging everyone else before returning to whisper in his ear." See about Wallace pushing you around to mingle and then mingle toward the Zen garden. I just need to check in and see when the lighting ceremony starts." He gently clasped her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. "Will you be there soon?"

She was gone soon enough. "Acra! You look pretty good for having come back from a nap!" He looked up to the blonde and smiled. "Thank you. Its good to know I can sleep for months and come out looking pretty. You look rather stunning yourself." Csillia had always been one to strike him as able to pull off anything you put her in. He took her hand and kissed the top in a friendly greeting. "How are you anyway? I have missed much havn't I....And I’m terribly sorry I havn't asked sooner..." He felt bad. After he awoke he messaged two people. Only Shula had responded. After that he was so focused on getting out he had completely forgotten there were other people to make sure where alright.

He motioned to Wallace to quietly sneak him towards the Zen garden. Hoping maybe Csillia would follow so he had someone to talk to. He messed gently with the tips of his longer hair. The ascot felt uncomfortable and he felt stupid in this chair. He wished he was able to walk and socialise properly. Not have it that people had to look down to talk to him. Or even completely miss him. Well…at least it wasn’t stuck at the hospital watching this on TV…..

ANNOUNCEMENT (use this): https://mdalchemist.rpg-board.net/t1989-map-of-the-garden

"Shall we dance away your horrid misunderstanding or shall I freeze you to death?" A misunderstanding indeed. Magnetism. Great. One more thing he'd underestimated. They could continue this little fight for as long as they wanted to, but Ayden knew, beneath all the delusions and the convincing that he was the greatest... that he was still but a student in alchemy compared to this woman. Metal, magnetism, ice... that was three branches she specialised in so far. With lethality, it would seem.

But... Ayden knew how this worked. It was a game, indeed; similar to poker or blackjack. One of strategy. She'd dealt, and they were to take turns laying down cards. His hand had been shuffled somewhat, and she'd got the luck of the draw this time, with the environment; perhaps she would be able to manipulate his revolvers, and his pistols... and his tanto. This... really wasn't good. Ayden pondered the thought of buying a few weapons made entirely of plastic just to taunt the good General.

Ayden had prepared a last resort countermeasure, however, but it seemed it would be unnecessary. In reality, upon threatening the girl with his knife, he had shed a tiny line of blood through a gap of clothing. There was enough, accumulated at the edge of the gash, for him to create around as much power as a hydrogen firecracker... but it seemed... yes. Unnecessary.

"I suppose we could," He flashed that charming smile of his, and hummed along to the melody of the tune resonating throughout the garden. The pair danced. As simple as that. She had won, he had lost. For now, at least. There would be a reprise. There was always a reprise. Every famous musician, training or not, had a reprise.

She was beautiful. Gold irises, curling pink hair, a black gown that only complimented her form and figure; but he could tell from their brief conversing pre-fight that she was already occupied with the country, if not a man; and this close, an accomplish reader of eyes would be able to tell that he too was occupied, perhaps with a business, and perhaps with another woman. This was merely flirtation, a game in the grand scheme.

He knocked his head to the side, swishing silver locks out of the way so his blue orbs could lock tightly with hers, gold. He felt it was best to look her in the eye and introduce himself, legitimately, considering the debacle. She had won, it was her right, only fair. Time would only tell what happened after today, but it was but a single night. "Let's start from the beginning. I'm Major Derocha. Call me Ayden. With a 'y'." He smirked to himself, before continuing. "And it seems I've underestimated you. I do apologise. Sins of an incompetent audience, it would seem,"

He sighed to himself. It would probably be best to be legitimate. She deserved that much in her triumphs, aye? "I'm a state alchemist. And an assassin, although that's somewhat more irrelevant," That deadly charming smile once more, and he just continued humming, dancing, waiting for her to respond, silently or perhaps not so. But... maybe a little... addendum. "Our little secret, though, okay?" A subsonic giggle and a childish wink; one not of desire, but of play. This was a fleeting moment, one where he found someone to not match him, but trump him completely, and he had to play his cards right.

((OOC: Niko and I*))

She heard that properly discarded glass of - a was - martini on the ground. And as how hard she was trained she was able to hear it clearly. A horn blown within the labyrinth of her mind and that too when time stopped for all in her eyes except for that messenger of death finding his way through the crowd. He was non other than colonel - or rather brigadier General now - Nikolaus stuka. At last a sane man who prides himself with military clothes.

But where to ?

The sergeant found herself trailing him like moth attracted to fire soon to be burned and soon will never come. And someone dared to follow but didn't dare to follow him through the gates of hell and kept a distance. She heard pain, agony, suffering and death. A dreadful chorus it was. They all - in harmony - sang together cursing who is dead and who is going to die and praising their conductor who brought them all together - in a fleeting time - into a very meaningful existence.

What has been done, has been done ? The messenger of death delivered his messages to their intended recipients and took their souls as a payment for his services of delivery.

He went out and she went in. And there she found her old companions, She found them lying on the ground, she found them standing beside the walls and she smelled their lovely nostalgic scent - that embraced and being embraced by - in the air.

The fallen angel knelt, a right glove removed, index finger kept playfully drawing on the ground then her finger raised finding it's way to her lips giving it a hint of rouge. And then she licked her lips. And then her lens narrowed, her vampiric amber eyes glittered and knew life.

Of course, the trespassers were not her old companions. Her old companions were 'Blood' and 'violence', they still are and always will be. She stood up while her glove after cleaning her lips and eventually found her way out leaving the world of the dead with her old companions of whom she adored behind to the world of the living.

Now that she is out and breathed in the fresh air that cleared her lungs from the smoke she inhaled within the fresh crypt. The colonel there was taking respite after that deadly choir that he conducted. She found her legs moving on their own though knowing that she was doing is certainly and by all means hazardous and life threatening.

She approached him, her high heels kicked and gave him a military bow. However her face showed seriousness instead of cheerfulness for it was not time for the easy going attitude.

She called by his rank which he entered with in this thread. "Colonel Nikolaus Stuka. I really admired your new pieces of art in your show room within the basement" that she told him "Sergeant Angelika Arnwald at your command" a dangerous introduction specifically the *at your command* part. If he tells her to shove off, then she will do as he says. But if he tells to commit suicide, now that something she can't do. Anyway the colonel is really unpredictable and certainly approaching him like that was simply madness in it's most purist forms.

Ugh. The kid had some nerve, didn't he? Hans mentally shook off Murazar's mislead statements before turning away from him altogether. Let the little man say what he would; Hans knew who was in control. It was only a matter of time before there was a slip up. But, that was enough of that. Hans could muse all he wanted over the end of surly fellows, but this was a party after all. At least, he hoped it was a party. He was still somewhat stuck in this receiving line. Hopefully after the ceremony he would be able to actually mingle and maybe dance with his wife. But first...! To the next group of people waiting to meet him.

“Tena koe, sir. Although, I'm sure there's no need for introduction. I'm Daigoro. Lieutenant Colonel Daigoro Ito. Head of Arms Research and Development of Fort Briggs, with little else to my name. I am humbled to be in your presence; as long as my mind hasn't failed me. I could very well be talking to the wrong man, as I have done before.”

Hans chuckled warmly, taking Daigoro's hand and shaking it firmly. “Lt. Colonel Ito. Be assured, I am the one and only, Hans Reinhardt. Not much to be said about that, however. Now you, young man, I have looked forward to meeting. Another of the great people Amestris has on their side. The file on your alchemy does intrigue me. Perhaps you could give an old man a bit of a walk-through sometime?” Hans smiled at Dai faintly; this was a good man. He would be good for the country. Unfortunately, however, Hans had others to see.

“Congratulations, Chancellor, I am Sergeant Angelika Arnwald at your service. May you serve the fatherland well.”

He was saluted by the woman in front of him and returned the salute before shaking her hand. “Pleasure, Sergeant Arnwald. You must be new to our military. I look forward to seeing what you shall bring to our country.” It was a simple conversation. Straightforward and to the point. As quickly as the woman had come, she had gone along her way. And a new woman had come along.

“Hello sir! Lovely meeting you. My name is Brigadier General Jay Furor, head of Central's side headquarters in Kanama. I look forward to hearing great things of you, sir. Perhaps a good leader is just what we need to get through everything we've been struggling with, eh?”

A general, eh? Side headquarters at Kanama? Interesting stuff and new, more likely than not. It would warrant more research, but that was for later. Hans took Jay's hand and shook it, smiling faintly down at her. “It is lovely to meet you as well, Brigadier General Furor. I hope to hear of great things from you as well.”

“Well, anyways, I have to go. Anyways, Chancellor, good luck. Make the nation proud, sir.”

As quickly as she had come, Jay Furor had gone. Ah well. It definitely made things easier for Hans. Taking his spare moment he glanced down at his watch. Soon he would be able to move to the largest sphere to begin the lighting ceremony. Soon enough. But first, he was sure there were a few more people he needed to see.



[[Friends. The next post that Hans will make will be in regards to the lighting ceremony. This will be a reflecting occasion, where the eternal flame for the fallen of Amestris will be lit. If ANYONE does ANYTHING inappropriate during this ceremony, there will be consequences. Hans will fire you. I, however, will take great pleasure in hanging you by the neck until practically dead, taking you down and cutting out your entrails and then chopping your body into four pieces. Save your rowdy action for your own threads. That is all.]]

A chuckle; he'd incited a soft chuckle from the Chancellor himself, it seemed. A kind and calm smile crossed the lips of he who held hair of red, and he chuckled as if in answer. "Be assured, I am the one and only, Hans Reinhardt." Oh, phew. It was difficult to express how relieved he felt when the Chancellor said that; mostly because he would've been exceedingly embarrassed to have gotten it wrong. He placed his hand on his hip. "Now you, young man, I have looked forward to meeting." E-eh?! What did he mean? Dai's eyes widened slightly at that statement, though not enough to actually show. "Another of the great people Amestris has on their side." Ah... "Y-you must have me mistaken, sir. I'm a simple soldier of Fort Briggs... not as great as people would like to think." He chuckled, shaking his head a little at that. This man didn't know. Nobody knew what he'd gone through for Briggs. No, it wasn't for Briggs. It was for his own selfishness that he'd gone to Creta, so to be told that he was one of these 'great people' that Amestris had on their side didn't seem right to him. Well, you couldn't choose the opinions of people now, could you? A light smile; Daigoro went to say something else.

"The file on your alchemy does intrigue me. Perhaps you could give an old man a bit of a walk-through sometime?" With this, the man's slightly-shocked expression left his face, replaced with a sly smirk. A white-gloved finger was raised into the air, Dai tapping his left index finger against his temple. "We'd have to see on that one, sir. I'm... tentative... with my Alchemic secrets, even around those of great power. Do not get me wrong: I would be glad to show you. It'd just have to be a more... clandestine meeting. Perhaps my Development Centre at Briggs? One of the more difficult and inaccessible parts of Briggs, I must admit." He laughed, giving Hans one last formal bow. “Congratulations, Chancellor, I am Sergeant Angelika Arnwald at your service. May you serve the fatherland well.” A powerful-looking woman stood next to him; she was quite hauntingly beautiful, though she didn't match Reila. Maybe he just had a thing for powerful women. He chuckled and returned his gaze to the Chancellor's face. "I will leave you to your greetings now, sir. I believe I have other business..." His thoughts trailed to Reila without a second to waste, "...to attend to." Smiling softly, the man slowly stood up straight and turned away; his greetings complete. Well, that was a nice man. A bit overbearing, but who didn't like someone with the size to match their power? He smirked, and turned towards his woman, who was dancing with a man of silver-hair. Hm, he'd missed a lot. However, instead of interfering, he would go and do something else. It was foolish to interfere when Reila had chosen to do a task. He'd be the one getting the most hurt.

Parties. How did one dress for parties? Obviously it depended on the nature of the party or gathering, but what about military party things? Did you dress in uniform, or formal/casual wear? This was something of a problem for Cora since she never really knew which it was. She was a doctor, not a fashionista dammit! That was... other people. She was an awkward girl in an awkward spot, aaaand she was really hoping she had chosen correctly for the occasion. It was a meet and greet opportunity (since it wasn't like she got out much and knew anyone outside Briggs), and... something rather somber as well. At least as far as she had heard when she heard about this in the first place.

The young doctor walked up to the edge of the crater with her hands in her pockets, her bracelets jingling softly as the light caught the pentagrams that were along the chain. Hey, she was trained to be ready to act at any moment. She was sporting fitted black jeans, a sleeveless turtleneck of a lovely deep purple hue, dressy black boots, and some sunglasses. Yes, sunglasses. Though she usually hated wearing the things, she actually needed them here in South since it was so damn bright. Briggs was never this bright! Or WARM. Christ, when had she ever been in such a warm climate?! Not that she was really complaining, it was just.... different. Really, really different. Even from East City where she grew up this was strange. Not that... she... Oh the pretties.... Her eyes turned from the floating spheres on the water to some of the *ahem* "wild life" that was around, strutting about in bikini's and short wear. Ok. She could like it here. "Hehehe..." She chuckled, a small smirk upon her lips as she had to remind herself that she was here for more erm, 'business' type dealies. Not to admire the ladies. They were probably all straight and taken anyways. Such was the journey of love... HA! She was fine where she was now, content even!

Here goes nothing... It was time to actually meet this High Chancellor. What was he going to be like? God, how long had it been since they had HAD a chancellor? Too long probably, history had never been her strong point at all. But molecular biology? She was AWESOME at. Her boots clicked softly as she headed inside, hearing the faint sound of voices ahead of her. One, she knew rather well considering he was stationed back home. And sure enough, there he was, his red hair quite identifiable among the rest. But there next to him.... THAT must be the Chancellor. Wow... He was rather handsome for an aging man! Heh, would her sister like him or no? But she began to slow as she looked around at the dome she found herself in, her smirk fading away to nothing as she read name after name about her. Names of the fallen. Faces flashed before her of ones that she hadn't... Argh, now that wouldn't do! How was she helping them by dwelling and feeling guilty? She had done what she could to keep them alive, and that was what mattered right? Right! Ok! Meet and Greet! Yeah!

Cora continued forward (with a little pep to her step) right up to the chancellor, saluting him as her hands slid out of her pockets. "Dr. Cora Nikita of Fort Briggs reporting for duty!" She said sternly, before relaxing and chuckling at her attempt at being serious as she bowed her head respectfully to him. "Forgive me if the attire is incorrect, I can never decide what is proper for these sorts of things." Shrugging lightly, her octopus lips spread into a smile, giving her quite the youthful appearance. It probably didn't help that she had to look up at him, she was only 5'4" after all. But! She was here to enjoy herself and meet this great man. So she would do just that.

Csilla noticed Shula wandering off and she had a pretty good inkling as to where she was going. But that teasing could be saved for later. For now, she was quite enjoying herself. She turned her attention back to Acra. She blushed a little pink when he kissed the top of her hand. Always so sweet, this one.

“Thank you. It's good to know I can sleep for months and come out looking pretty. You look rather stunning yourself. How are you anyway? I have missed much haven't I... And I'm terribly sorry I haven't asked sooner...”

She smiled down at him. “I'm good, Acra. And don't worry about asking me anything, you've been a bit preoccupied yourself.” She laughed, walking alongside his chair as... well, SOMEONE pushed Acra along. She turned to the man for a moment, “I'm Csilla, by the way.” She smiled as he introduced himself as Wallace, the butler. She giggled at little bit, amused by the fact that Acra had a butler. Then again, she shouldn't really be surprised. His family was super rich, after all. Wallace seemed somewhat reserved, but really nice. She spoke to him for a few minutes before glancing down at Acra. He was messing with his hair and she saw his fingers brush against his ascot. He just looked bored. Csilla wasn't... bored. Not really, anyway. It was interesting, seeing the mix of people here in the gardens. Plus, she was IN the gardens Shula had painstakingly designed. That in itself was pretty much amazing. “So where are we headed, anyway? Someplace special?” She wasn't sure what Acra had planned but Csilla was more than happy to keep him company as long as he needed some.

He didn't know exactly how many bullets he had wasted, but ah well. They were all spent in good faith. Too many casings, too many bullets, and plenty of wounded people. They were late! He was sick! THEY WERE ON THEIR WAY!! To the party of the new Chancellor. Well, some of them were on their way, twelve of them were taking back the Aerugese (still breathing, thankfully, so now they could interrogate them at their leisure) 'spies' to the local prison until they were needed later.

Yes, technically, Greene was ill and therefore could not attend to his duties, so some fella in South's defense department had taken over and was making sure things were going smoothly. But, the fool had decided only a sparse detail would be enough. So, along came the red-haired Head of Defense (still a bit ill, but not caring) and the rest of the department following after him. They could take no chances here, the new Chancellor had to be protected during his stay in South . . . I mean, he and the men just captured a whole group of Aerugese fellows that were obviously armed, trying to see if they could cause a disturbance. (MAYBE)

So, the additional guards he brought along quickly merged with the existing sentries, increasing security just in case, while Greene made his way inside. Oddly enough, he still choose his peculiar choice of dress: Military uniform with a white, thinly-woven cotton coat . . . that kept all sorts of ammo. He was armed, yes. The nature of his work demanded it. Fortunately both uniform and coat kept these arms hidden. The red-haired Captain sauntered around, bidding hello to anyone who did and apologizing, as he slowly made his way to the General in command of South City: Shula Brighton. He needed to let her know what had transpired first, before going on his way.


The Brigadier General was conversing with the Lieutenant General Spade Aeries, commander of the forces at Central. Even though he would rather not disturb her, he still had to inform her. Greene's approach to the two put in the clear line of sight to Shula, who he saluted once he was within a reasonable enough distance to speak to her. There wasn't a good number of people around, so he could say what was needed without too much trouble of drawing attention. The gesturing hand went down as quickly as possible, after doing its task, and Greene began to speak.

"Brigadier General Brighton! Just so you know, a sizable group of possible rioters were detained. All Aerugese, all armed. No disturbance, fortunately. They'll be at the local cells." his information was given briskly and calmly.

The Captain was known as a loose canon. That was a given. He'd wait, a bit, to hear her response, but afterwards he'd be bidding a polite farewell a "Good Evening to you" after her response and taking off. There was another person he had to let know, also. First was the person responsible for all of South, next was the man who he had to cooperate with from about a week ago to now, concerning a ongoing incident from then.

Nikolaus Stuka. The Chief of Security Forces in Central. He had lent assistance during the incident last week, and new developments had shown up that he needed to be told about. Not to mention, they had other matters to discuss as well. His timing, seemed to be rather good. The Colonel was taking off, it seems ... whereto, Dachen did not know, he would have lost him, did he not notice that there was someone else trailing after him.

Needless to say, the Captain was trailing the Sergeant who was tailing the Colonel. One trapdoor and screams of agony later, Nikolaus Stuka was now being addressed by the Sergeant. Greene had quietly been following the two, keeping appropriate distance so as to not draw attention to himself. He takes pause, not wanting to say anything to disturb the situation. Though he needed to let the Colonel know the information he had, there was no explicit rush involved.

So, the Captain waited, about three to four meters behind the Sergeant, a bit.

The Searing sound Alchemist appeared to be walking to this gathering of the Amestrian Military. He let out a sigh as he got to the door. His date on his arm wore a rather long black dress. She had long shoulder length light purple hair. Her hair was let loose and showed some curls. The dress was spaghetti strap and had gold floral lace coming up to the top of it. She wore a shawl that was a matching black with gold accents. Alex looked at her and smiled a bit if only to hide his own discomfort. He hated formal attire with a passion that rivaled the depth of the black hole in the center of this universe.

He was wearing a three piece white suit. His pants secured by a white leather belt. He wore a white shirt and with it he wore a purple tie. Over the shirt he wore a white vest that seemed to shimmer a bit. The last piece to his suit was a white tail coat. His shoes were white Stacy Adams that had a flower carved into the bottom of the shoe. He also wore a white fedora.the ribbon of which was a different shade of white and had a thin purple line in the middle.

He showed the guard his badge as his face gave off a sense of discouragement. He had arrived and this was his least favorite type of party. So many people so many views of this event and so much drama how would this event end. It truly was a pain in the ass for someone such as himself. He walked around and looked as a mass of people surrounded the chancellor. Taking a look around he looked to see a lot of people. a waiter5 came he ordered his drink as did his date and he waited for what was to come.

Murazar raised an eyebrow as suddenly hans and murazar were ignoring each other, insolent arrogant bastard. Popularity contest winner and he thinks he superior to me in every way, what a fool. I'm not even directly under his command or military. He should be well-aware of that as well. Suddenly as he was about to walk off and talk to someone else or simply sit back and enjoy the collosal waste of resources for a party. The ony person he never expected to ever talk to him suddenly appeared, Jay. On top of it she was respectful and apologizing.

This was probably the most surprising moment in his life so far, they had met when he had just started out doing mercenary work and had quickly became somebody by being hired by Reila. He spoke softly, almost in a sort of shock. After all she was one of the few people he was semi-obsessed on killing. Murazar held his hand out to shake hers."Apology accepted, you really have changed for the better. I'm not sure to call this a friendship yet, but its a start in the right direction. General Furor." He repaid her respect as she paid for his.

They were neigh equals now and this little rivalry and feud they had going on had ended. Took almost three years though, damn lucky neither of them had killed the other. Although murazar would have already tried numerous times if he had the time to coordinate such an effort. He figured at the least they could become friends in time, although one of the things on his mind was hans. The poor arrogant fool should think the office was cursed considering how many leaders had died in that position in the recent years. Considering Amestris's weakened state Murazar wouldn't be surprised if they were invaded and lost. He could try with all his might to put out intel for the enemy to pick up making them think their enemy was still strong, but it wouldn't work at this point. It'd be too obvious. He just hoped their surrounding enemies and truced didn't invade together.

In the meantime he figured he could bounce and perhaps talk to some of the few other guests around.

Isabella entered the 5 Sphere Garden hesitantly. She really didn’t want to be here, considering all the people and being a formal occasion. But, she knew she had to be, since she now lived in the area, and has one small matter to clear up with her new boss. She just hoped she wouldn’t need to go through the approval process again, or, worse, get denied since she was approved under ex-Furher Hild’s rule.

Straightening up her dress uniform, she slipped her way through the crowd. Still no sign of General Black, which concerned her, but at least she heard her new CO was very competent. Brightwall, or Brighton, so something… ”Fuck, speak of the devil,” she thinks to herself, recognizing the woman from some pictures she pulled up before the transfer. Maybe she should introduce herself so…

”Fuck it. Just do your job and keep your head down.” Sighing, she decides to follow that advice and slip back into the crowd. Continueing on through the sea of people, she recognizes a few other faces, but skips past them. This was business. She didn’t do parties for pleasure anyway.

Her mind wandering, she barely noticed when she crossed in front of the chancellor. Quickly turning about-face, she sheepishly approaches her new leader.

”Excuse me, Chancellor Reinhardt?” Snapping to attention and saluting for a moment, she quickly relaxes. At least, as relaxed as she trained herself to do. ”I’m Lieutenant Colonel Isabella Galicia. Sorry to bother you so shortly after winning the election, but I’m afraid I must ask while I have the chance… I received approval to the State Alchemist program the day before the Cretan Skirmish in West, sir. Would you, by any chance…” She had to pose this as a question! And not too awkwardly. If she did it too awkwardly then he’d think she was a fool, and – OH MY GOD I’M BEING AWKWARD. ”What I’m asking, Chancellor, is whether or not the program still exists, and if I need to go through the approval process again.” Nodding, she exhales, her heart racing. Not exactly the best way to introduce herself, but… Well, she got it done, and that’s what mattered.

” Salmon? Red snapper? Swordfish? Tuna? Trout?” Going down the line off food, he seemed to get more and more excited. Gasping, he gives a big grin. ”Eel?” He could barely contain himself. All of them smelled so good, though all the fish lacked heads…

Damn, it was the bear again. He was getting used to eating fish – not like he liked it or anything – but the cravings were moving on to fish heads. Thankfully, he hasn’t eaten one yet. He might have to end up explaining his actions to people he didn’t want to share with…

Looking at the long line of fish, his mouth watered. So much… So abundant… But… No fish heads!

”That’s it,” he mutters to himself, walking out of the buffet line. ”No fish today.”

Making his way through the crowd, he enjoyed his height advantage. He could see everyone from where he was at! Also, it made him realize how small a lot of people were. It wasn’t an Amestrian trait, but a general trait of humanity. So, no matter where he went, he’d still be an oddball in terms of height, but then… At least he could spot the chancellor from where he was!

Wait. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Technically… He wasn’t a citizen. Nor was he here legally. Though, if he went that far, he wasn’t even alive as far as his records went, so maybe… Maybe he could go where ever he wanted! Except places that required passports…

Scratching his chin, he shrugs. He seemed like a good man. Maybe good enough to withstand his awesome handshakes. Awesome in terms of strength, not one of those weird things the kids do nowadays… And whatnot…

Politely pushing his way through the crowd with “please” and “thank you,” he eventually makes it to the man of the hour. ”Chancellor! A pleasure to meet you! I’m a very big fan of your work, good sir.” Clasping the man’s hand gently between his, he offers a hardy handshake, trying desperately to not harm the man. ”It’s an honor to meet you in person. And to imagine, running into you here! What a coincidence! Anyway, I know you’re a busy, busy man, so I’ll let you get back to your job. Again, a pleasure, good sir.”

Releasing Hans’ hand, he gives a quick salute to the man, before wading his way back into the crowd.

Leisurely Nikolaus enjoyed this particular relaxation, scratching his cheek to find pigmentation of red. Wiping it off with the sleeves of his tunic, which doesn't exactly show as a stain. It was too dark to show. Concealing effectively his act of brutally killing the fuck out of a person below in some small dark room where fuck knows where is happening. Probably the corpse will be taken care of later on, AFTER this little party was finished. Shame. He was starting to enjoy this little escapade of his. A chance to relax, maybe forget his eternal duty, if not for but a breath away. Unwind. But given his condition, it is something he will never let go, and can never lay down. It is who he is, and that's how he lived. He won't change that now.

Though he was mindful of a little moth following the flickering light that was he, much earlier of a white haired witch so similar tuned to Akiha. The only difference was, when he saw her approach him, in all her black draped glory, her eyes were crimson as the blood that he watched spilled so many times. Blood that all stains in the same color, whether they had their intestines strewn all across the floor, heads lopped, limbs quartered, genitals mutilated. Always it's with the red color that stains it so. Humans can be just so... similar.

Yet this interesting little visage of a creature gave him a salute, respecting this rank earned in the deaths of many. Equivalent exchange. Colonel rank for hundreds if not thousands. Her serious demeanor than a cheerful one... interesting. She knew to respect power when she sees it, or was it to recognize those whom have power rightfully earned from those who haven't? A mystery really.

"Colonel Nikolaus Stuka. I really admired your new pieces of art in your show room within the basement."

She made her knowledge of the sight to behold rather open to the otherwise bored Colonel. Oh capital, capital indeed. He could give her points for being bold, maybe brave. Perhaps lustful for blood that she follows the light that is the Colonel's? A dark path to travel down upon indeed.

"Oh?" He smiled at this little lovely visage before him, and then he noticed there was a ginger behind her if not a glimpse of the Captain. So he came to the party eh? Maybe he was looking for a soul among the many dozens that gather here.

"Sergeant Angelika Arnwald at your command."

He rubbed his cheek in thought, so she was to be his very own little toy, eh? Name seems to be alliterative if anything, if only she were an Admiral, though non-existent that rank may be, she would be Admiral Angelika Arnwalrd, and now THAT'S a tongue twister.

"Then by my command, fetch me a little ginger bread man. His name is Captain Green despite being red." His tone prompted, slouching back at his seat as he wasn't inclined to pay attention to activities of alchemy originating from Ayden and this... Reila's area. They seemed the happy sort whom loved to dance. And by dance, it's probably murder each other like a married couple does... ah young love these days.

Animos had been merely minded his own business, ladling fondue into his teacup. Yes, he had recieved a lovely teacup from some unknown benefactor, and although he had no idea who sent it, it was precious to him. In fact, some of the others near the fountain had moved away, disturbed by his constant rambling in Cretan, speaking to the teacup, which was meant for tea, and was being filled with cheesy fondue. That was the good thing about Anim, which saved everyone else from being cheese-coated by the exploding fondue bowl- only him and a militant lady were affected, and she froze the chseese. Confused, he looked to the source of the explosion, and saw a man walking away. So he sipped some cheese from his cup and hurried after the man. Upon watching him for a while, he studied everything he and the lady said, in close detail. Curiously, as they were dancing, he eventually walked out into their field of vision, hunched over, with his cup full of fondue. With wide eyes, he looked to the man. "Cheese-man...", he said in nigh-holy reverence. "Cheese-man."

Oh? he smiled and that's when the moth began to observe and took note of his features both facial and physical as she before made an incredible stunt of approaching a - though - flickering fire - yet indeed deadly - without getting herself devoured.

So lo and behold, Her eyes can not tell what is specifically beneath his dress yet her instincts - that served her well along the course of years -told her that beneath that black military uniform of his lies power and a great power it is indeed. What is he capable of doing ? Well, she is out of his league so that is beyond her still she saw his red runes of power within the realms of the new made and rather fresh crypt. But if she can break someone's neck with her sheer force of monstrous strength. then he - by all means - can do that with relative ease and rather quickly.

As for his avatar, he - unlike her - inherited the will of Amestris with his disguised blonde, camouflaged blue - due to his military cap that he wears - and clear amestrian white. Still what marked him most is his open eyes that pierced through the others giving him that look of 'yes I always know, your secrets are mine', tiny rivers that always becomes filled when smile rains and aura of extinct breed of men.

He rubbed his cheek, a mark of thought and a sign of command to be given. Angeilka deeply inhaled air only to find a scent of an old companion, her seas of scarlet went outrageous though she maintained her serious demeanor. She didn't give her eyes the chance to look around for the source and kept her eye contact with the orbs of blue skies unaware that what she was looking for was on the colonel's cheek and now rests within the sleeves of his tunic.

"Then by my command, fetch me a little ginger bread man. His name is Captain Green despite being red." and so Alduin - first born of - Akatosh has spoken but since that he holds only one soul and one soul only that would make him more of a 'Dovahkiin' dragon born and slayer.

Indeed, a command she is given and indeed a command to be done. She didn't wait much, she saluted by giving a military bow and soon began executing his command of fetching little ginger bread man whose rank and name is captain green despite being red. She turned around with her eyes shifting quickly between one to another to find a winner.

Indeed a ginger he is and with such thought in her mind that never left her lips, she meant no disrespect, it was that captain green was rather easy to spot as he was a tower of his own even taller than the chancellor himself. She raised her head to see his avatar. The sun rays fell on her face and soon her lens reacted and narrowed showing the color of royal red that met his crimson shades. For her eyes time stopped for time is her ally, a split of a second widens and broadens giving her enough space to do more than others. In short, in a quick gaze her eyes took note of his features.

Captain Green was like her in some ways and some ways not. He has a skin like her vivid white, crimson eyes - like that of hers - that showed a deal of experience still didn't match that of the colonel's. A spiky red hair adorned his avatar with a face almost perfect. Tall and well built like the tower of ishal.

To him she saluted with a military bow. Yes, she has to behave herself well more than usual. Indeed, she sees others non other than tools to her but this time it is different. She is the emissary's emissary, the messenger's messenger of whose trade is soul releasing and death. She has to behave well for the Chrysanthemum is yet to bloom and in such state she will become herself a tool but not for anyone and only for one.

Captain Green, the colonel wishes to speak with you. she said then stepped aside granting him the path, stayed and remained position beside them unless told otherwise. For the moth seemed becoming more accustomed to the flickering devouring flames or maybe more addicted to slight hint of a crimson lingering scent...

However her matter of choice has been resolved. The fallen angel made up her mind and made her decision that she is going to follow the colonel wherever he goes.

Opportunity has been seized and that marks the end of her prologue. And an end marks a new start leading to her first chapter.

And the nobility obliges..

Wallace bowed to her politely. "It is a pleasure to meet you as well miss Csilla." The Cretan pushed them along as Acra sighed his fingers twitching on the hand rests. Clearly bored of being stuck in the chair and at such and boring event. He almost wanted to hit his head against a wall if he could get there. Urgh such a frustrating endeavour.

“So where are we headed, anyway? Someplace special?” He looked up to the blonde and smiled. "Ah the Zen garden...Shula said to meet her there..." He said wishing she wasn't so busy so she could stay with them. Or he could maybe I dunno walk....He wanted to walk with his arm round her. Take her to dance. Not sit here and watch from a distance. He looked to Csilla and smiled. "So has much happened whileIi was snoozing? Shula has only filled me in on office things. Last i remember there was that Cretan before we left....Ito right?" He teased a sly grin creeping onto his face. Hey his usual target was missing. So he moved onto the next one to playfully tease. After all...she couldn't slap him he was in a wheelchair...that’s like 5 pairs of glasses.

The laugh that came out was a little bright and almost nervous, like a teenager being caught in an awkward moment where he wasn't sure what the right answer was. The look on his face, coupled with the laugh and the fact that his sunglasses were dangling halfway off his nose presented a rather comic image to Shula, even though she kept her laugh silent. Instead, her hand moved up to gently adjust his glasses, resituating them on his face and rehooking one side on his ear correctly. The way he was looking at her was strage. Like he'd never seen her before and was somehow seeing her in multiple dimensions. As though he were tripping slightly, and it was making his existence hurt. "No, I'm not okay." Spade's voice was quiet and somewhat deflated, devoid of its fluid ease. Surely the party wasn't making him that anxious? He'd never had a hard itme with crowds before, and he didn't have to do anything at the ceremony- just stand in the front row and look pretty. "I'm...not okay."

Shula pulled out the chair next to Spade, sitting down quickly as her hand moved to press her wrist to his forehead. He did't feel sick... Her tone shifted from playful teasing to concern, keeping her voice just loud enough for him to hear without others eavesdropping. "You want to head home after the lighting ceremony, Spade? I can always meet you back at the house." She glanced to the center of the table, the evening's program printed on a small card and held in place by a stylish clip in the centerpiece. Chancellor Reinhardt was still greeting guests in the receiving line, but according to the program card that would only be for a few more minutes before he moved to the aviary sphere. Hans had a small speech planned, and hopefully it was just thanking everyone for coming, maybe talk about some of the new things planned for the year, and whatever it was that people politely thanked or talked about in public at shindigs like this. Shu didn't have the foggiest; even her own meetings at work were very to the point and very short, but meetings weren't social gatherings or speeches.

"You know, I've brought my father and grandfather here for the ceremony. They're off schmoozing... Grandfather's quite the popular retired General. But would you want to meet them, after the lighting?" It was an attempt to distract Spade from whatever was bothering him; if he needed something or something was terribly wrong, he'd tell her on his own. Her attention from Spade was interrupted by one of her staff waving her over politely. "Excuse me a moment, Spade."

"Brigadier General Brighton! Just so you know, a sizable group of possible rioters were detained. All Aerugese, all armed. No disturbance, fortunately. They'll be at the local cells." Mr. Greene's voice was quiet and polite, alerting Shula to the current situation but not loud enough for anyone else to overhear. Red eyes turned serious for a moment, Shula letting out a soft sigh. Really... Couldn't people find nights where she WASN'T busy to try and pull shit? She nearly went to mess with her haif and stopped hersef, instead chewing on her bottom lip for a second, licking off yet more of her raspberry lemonade lip gloss.

"Keep them in holding cells," she ordered quietly, looking up at Mr. Greene. "Don't interrogate them yet; just let them sit. I can't leave sine I'm needed here, but I'll deal with them in the morning. Keep this quiet, please... Don't let on to the press outside that there's been any issue, okay?" Shula's pleasant smile returned, her hand patting the side of Mr. Greene's arm. "And once that's taken care of, stifk around for the party and have a good time." Mr Greene left, either to take care of things as she'd asked them or to do whatever step he felt was next. Another small breath puffed out, Shu trying to center her nerves again before she moved back to Spade's side. "Sorry about that."

Red eyes glanced to the program card as though it were a ticking bomb, and then forced her eyes away from it as though it might bite her. You don't have to talk. Just draw in the last two elements and light it and ignore everyone watching because they're watching the fire and not you. Her hand moved to squeeze Spade's, though she wasn't sure if it was to calm her nerves or his. "Acra's here, too. They signed him out of the hospital for the night so he could come watch in person... I promised I'd give him and Csilla a tour of the grounds. Do you want to join us?"

"I suppose we could."

"Great," Reila replied, barely noticing the man's smile as she turned the butter knife back into such and tossed it on a table they twirled past. Her hand returned to his shoulder for just a brief moment. "Gimme a sec." A quick slurry of words that passed her lips as her steps halted slightly to lift her thigh. Reaching between her legs, she smeared the blood across white skin, drawing her hand back to her mouth to lick it clean. It tasted like shit and made her stomach flip, but it was worth not stopping for a napkin. "Gross," she murmured, not bothering to hide the disgust in her voice. Something about blood Reila always hated. It wasn't that it drained away lives or how disgusting it tasted or smelled. The color was beautiful and it represented one's pumping of life. Yet still, to her, it came as something impure, dirty--something that made her woozy enough to have to force her mind away from it before she felt nauseous. Maybe because it caused the female population pain each month and when Reila was younger, the beginning of her cycle to womanhood was a lonely thing. Danny hadn't taught her anything about it. That day when she was eleven years old, she had thought she was dying in the most terrible way she could envision. It was embarrassing, agonizing, and so beyond gross that she threw up for days. A week later, it stopped...it wasn't until next month that she told one of the nurses that she had to have contracted a terminal disease from one of the patients. That was when she was living at the hospital with Danny, Lust, before he died in Drachma... The nurse examined her and then explained it all. She remembered being horrified, but at the same time not too surprised. It all made sense then... But blood always haunted her and reminded her of the phantoms of that undying loneliness.

"Let's start from the beginning." Reila's attention averted from her strangely depressing thoughts and ventured away from the metallic, most resilient aftertaste. "I'm Major Derocha. Call me Ayden. With a 'y'." She liked his name, though she felt it would be more than a little odd to tell him that especially after their discreet skirmish in the middle of the Chancellor's party. She couldn't believe that something like that happened and that they were now dancing instead of her taking Ayden in to be arrested. Reila found she could accept that though, some people just didn't know how to be rejected. She laughed quietly, eyes alight with every emotion.

"I apologize as well...for being able to be underestimated~" The song peeked at a dire moment and they dodged a misplaced chair, moving towards a more crowded area where the Chancellor was still shaking hands and trying to remember so many names. Her victory versus Ayden did not come as a surprise, for who on earth wanted to be frozen to death? He didn't know her capabilities nor the fact that she could freeze the punch from where she was dancing right now. He was wise to back down--wise to accept her more than generous proposal. In Reila's eyes, that left them both victorious. Why he had attacked the poor fondue, she'd never know, nor did she expressly want to. Maybe he was a cheese hater or maybe he really was just pissed by her earlier behavior. She sighed, hanging her head until her bangs brushed his neck. "I really am sorry. I sort of...have strong opinions when concerning this country..."

"I'm a state alchemist. And an assassin, although that's somewhat more irrelevant. Our little secret, though, okay?" Why was that even a secret?

"See, you're in the military so I don't see why you disagree with the direction the country is going in. Or did you just join because you're mindlessly obsessed with combat?" There were all types of people in the world. She found she could accept many of them, but it was important recognizing which they were first in order to determine how to handle them. She was the leader of one of the most dangerous Forts in the world and yet had made it one of the safest. That was how Reila got things done. After his answer, she nodded briefly. "Still, I'm not getting why you would want to...keep that...a secret. What the hell?"

"Cheese-man..." She stopped dancing suddenly and removed her hands from his shoulders, stepping towards the man in their path. What the hell? Shit we've been found out!!

Spade knew his sunglasses were crooked and that they weren't even his sunglasses. He knew that Shula was laughing inside at how he must look and somewhere within the recess of his mind, he too was laughing alongside her. He was always primped to perfection, the ideal show of a man in dress. He was even now save for the shades. She certainly found it amusing as did he standing beside himself, but he couldn't do anything except stare mindfully ahead, losing himself more and more with each passing minute and each blink of his overfilled eyes. "You want to head home after the lighting ceremony, Spade? I can always meet you back at the house." He felt himself nod, taking note of the croaking of each bone in his neck, creaking down his spine all the way to his tail bone. Seven vertebrae moving in sync. It was a minor miracle--simply breathtaking!! He stopped, noting the stopping and how the muscles tensed, retracted, and then relaxed back into their stasis where he was staring, staring... It nearly hurt to stare, his eyes were burning holes in her... He was killing her by tearing apart every detail, seeing EVERYTHING, but not knowing why she wasn't sleeping much, why she was so nervous, why he couldn't make that go away... Distracted, distracted still--he couldn't even ask--couldn't even ask to know. Where had that small, tiny, meaningless bruise come from!?

"You know, I've brought my father and grandfather here for the ceremony. They're off schmoozing... Grandfather's quite the popular retired General. But would you want to meet them, after the lighting?" Schmoozing, a Yiddish term, שמועסן (shmuesn) 'converse', referring to the act of quietly chatting of nothing important. "Excuse me a moment, Spade." He didn't hear her. Hm, after? Lightning, yes, the lightning of the torch never to be extinguished in honor of the fallen--those that died because of him. Memories rooted out from the banished corners of his mind, the drunken locks busted open by eager, scrutinizing hands only to be assaulted by terrified horror and regret. He saw everything remembered again with sickening detail, honing in on the man with rifle, the masked man that looked so familiar... The searing pain in his arm still there, throbbing, each single stitch pulling so hard at healing skin...synthetic polymer fibers--so many ways... The wire--his wire, saving lives to suffer later knowing they lived. Losing. Loss. That prideful wail of failing inside with every beat of heart--each soldier had that look in their eyes. His sunglasses were blocking his own look out with 100% UVA and UVB shade, wavelengths up to 400 nm. Colors of sunglasses lens vary way too much... This pair was different than his old pair... the rims were similar, but the silver was sterling. Gray and green lenses maintain true colors, brown lenses cause some color distortion, but also increase contrast, turquoise lenses enhance contrast, but do not cause significant color distortion, orange and yellow lenses increase contrast, depth perception, and color distortion, and blue or purple lenses are mainly cosmetic. These were blue...ish. A tint of purple to them and some gray, but... he still saw--still saw. Like the memories... That strand of Shu's hair was split when he grabbed her and leaped skyward from the falling Kremlin... Had she gotten her hair cut since, he wondered. Useless information, but the wondering came, unabated until... "Sorry about that." Spade turned around, raising an eyebrow in question. He saw the back of twenty-six years old born in Creta, quarter Xingese, quarter Cretan, half Amestrian. His name was Dachen Greene--fucking awesome name. Born January 22nd, tattoos all up and down his arms it seemed to cover scars as Spade noted from his retreating figure. Thermodynamic Manipulator as well as alkahestrist--a hybrid like himself, knife user, liked cash way more than most guys that spent it all on their girlfriends.

Suddenly a hand reached out to touched his. He saw it coming and almost recoiled, but remember with terrible clarity that it was Shu who had returned from speaking with Dachen that man over there who had called out to her. They had talked about Aerugese who had...attacked? He wasn't notified. No one was aware. They seemed to be in cells now and Shu wanted it quiet, annoyed by the fact that anything had even happened. No, something would always happen. Now was the perfect time now...to attack. His attention changed gears when she squeezed his hand. Clammy, sweaty, nervous. She was nervous being in front of--around so many people. He knew it too; in his own mind, he was in chaos. How could one in such turmoil comfort one also suffering? Spade didn't know, but he was damned if he didn't try. "Shu," he suddenly said, shocked that such a jazzy voice was capable of exiting from the ravaged mind of the ex detective. "Give 'em hell."

"Acra's here, too." The object of guilt. He knew. He knew even after "Stay with Shula, if anything happens to her...you'll lose more than your job. Just kidding man" he entrusted her to him. The coma...the crying. His world was torn apart then. That single day when he told Alisa the truth--that he deserved nothing and still felt the same now. Yet he had things, still, had things. Things like Shula holding his hand now and watching him with those soft red eyes of hers--those eyes that contrasted so much with his own. He loved her...and it was something he could never escape. To: Spade You owe me a fucking beer twat! From: Acra. It was a text message--one he never replied to. On his new phone--the Droid. So advanced he barely got the thing unlocked from the corporate animals he had his service registered under for military. He managed to encrypt it and all that jazz, but hell, it was a bitch. "They signed him out of the hospital for the night so he could come watch in person..." Spade tried to smile. What would he say? How would he approach him. Like this...Spade was a loose canon, ready to give away the inner secrets hidden behind layers and layers of everythings. "I promised I'd give him and Csilla a tour of the grounds. Do you want to join us?"

"I need a drink first..." He took a breath. "I need many drinks first."

As Jay awaited Murazar's answer, her brain was rather high-strung with stress. I mean, it had to be done, from her end, but if he didn't accept the apology? Then what? Reassuring herself that he was in fact going to accept it, she managed to not die of the stress involved in waiting for his response. And then, after what seemed like days to her, he turned and spoke. And as he spoke, every word had Jay feeling more and more relieved. Okay, so he'd accepted her apology, as she had hoped. Feuds this bitter weren't to be had over such simple, small things as trivial arrogance and anger. Now, her grudge against that white-hair guy- THAT was a reasonable hatred. Stupid electrical alchemist... Him and his dumb alchemy... But anywho~

" Thank you General Dauthi. I hope we can be friends as well, over time." With a polite nod and her half-salute, she moved away from Murazar, leaving him to his own devices and whatnot. Now that possibly the hardest thing she'd EVER done was over, it was time to cram as much vodka into her gut as she could!

"I really am sorry. I sort of...have strong opinions when concerning this country..." Ayden nodded gently, still humming to himself. He inclined his head slowly, showing approval; he knew. A degree of patriotism was required, somewhat, when it came to running one of the most important military bases in Amestris, and perhaps one of the most infamous in the entire world. Strong opinions were... good. Showed that an individual had the ability to think for themselves; not brainwashed by the media, like most of the general populace. Ayden admired that, swaying gently in time to the beautiful melody of the music - somewhat precariously, it seemed, as the pair just dodged a chair with an illogical placement; probably some stupid mistake or oversight on the organisers' part.

The silver-headed man, in his silence, emitted an aura that made him seem unknowingly wise, despite his conduct barely minutes ago; he smiled, and locked his green eyes with hers, golden; and spoke. He could tell she was occupied; with much more than he'd initially thought. Once more, this was flirtation. They both had... other things on their mind. Just enjoying the moment. "That much I can understand," Ayden cocked his head ever so slightly. "I wasn't trying to insult the country as a whole. I work for it, dammit, even if it's... well, a means to an end..." This was seeming somewhat flawed... he considered it best to bring it full circle. "That sounds bad. Put it this way. I was born half-Amestrian, and that half is fiercely patriotic," He nodded, hoping she understood. "I just... have a... distaste for politicians. Men of word, not action. Traitorous snakes when compared to the rest of us, no matter their exterior visage," He hissed; it looked somewhat high-and-mighty, but Ayden knew he'd gotten his message across. She would either appreciate it, or she wouldn't simple; but she was a soldier, too. A woman of action, despite rank.

When it came down to it, she was a warrior, an Amazon; he could see that glint, that spark, that fire in those golden irises of her. Despite it all, she loved fighting. Mindless, purposeful... it occupied the time. Passed it. A workout. The adrenaline. Sure, at the end of the day, she could resign herself to saving puppies and old ladies, still be a good person; that mindset didn't effect morality. She did what she wanted. But Ayden could see beneath it all that the primal urges for epinephrine lying just inches beneath the surface, imprisoned in a rust-caked cage and shackles which could split in just a moment. In many ways, the two were... similar.

"See, you're in the military so I don't see why you disagree with the direction the country is going in. Or did you just join because you're mindlessly obsessed with combat?" Ayden shrugged. Why did he join the military? It was a good question. The answer was probably one she wouldn't appreciate; greed, really. He needed funding, a license, to further his research, amongst other things. Along with that... money for killing people was never bad, either.

"Mindlessly obsessed?" He guffawed. "My dear General, combat is an art. Painting, composing, writing, murder; all similar in more ways than one," He mulled the thought over for a moment; staring into the middle distance. Was he obsessed? Addicted, maybe? Perhaps murder was no art, as he'd been telling himself all this time; but a drug? Suppressive and addictive as all hell... addiction was in his nature, after all, considering the various stupidities and travesties of his father... no. No. He was right. He was a blank slate, when it came to vices and ties. Murder was perhaps a reliance for him, but just so, it was a pastime. Exercise, like he'd said oh-so-many times. He concluded on a continuation. "I do... occasionally overstep the mark in my indulgence, shall we say..." Images flashed before his eyes; murder, a face specked with blood, the dots and drips slowly enlarging, elongating, until his face was indistinguishable from that oh-so-familiar crimson sheen, light emanating from an unknown source-

He snapped back to reality, shaking ever-so-slightly; he hoped it wouldn't be noticeable, but Reila was a sharp woman. Eh. It didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. She could be trusted, it appeared. He kept the same face on; speaking and listening as if he were intrigued; albeit with somewhat of a grimace, due to his last 'confession' leaving an odd taste in his mouth. "Still, I'm not getting why you would want to...keep that...a secret. What the hell?"

Ayden arched an eyebrow at her. What? Had she not yet caught on? Well this was a far simpler issue than his obsessions, vices, and addictions; a simple explanation and answer would suffice - all in the name of civility, too. He pressed closer, though, for fear of any eavesdroppers, moving his chin over his shoulder and speaking but inches from her ear. "I do hope you're of the understanding that murder is illegal, General Tsukino. I don't mean to insinuate that you've been living under a rock for the past few decades, but..." He had to pick his words carefully. "Most of what I do isn't... government-sanctioned, to put it subtly,"

He continued, a pursed smile appearing smacked across his face. Colour flushed into a pale pallor; the previous grimace of defeat stricken from his expression, thankfully. It felt good to be in control once more. "Now, I'd like to say that I'm a vigilante, the 'finger of justice', as it were; but all-too-simply, I trade blood for money. Some I kill are bad, others neutral, and some even good. I can be discreet, make it look like an accident, send a message... there's really no limitation where it comes to my services," His smile formed quickly into a grin. "Every body is a blank canvas, practise for me to exercise my alchemy; something you're not yet totally familiar with, but, I promise you..." He chuckled ever-so-quietly, tonight's most sadistic look set upon his face. "It's... exciting."

Once more, he continued; the end of his spiel was drawing close. Oh, how the man loved to give grandiose little speeches and utterings; he hoped he wouldn't turn the good General away now with this display of his... creativity. It could be misinterpreted as insanity... and, now, that just wouldn't do, would it?! "No matter what the specifications, some things are ensured, and they never change. Yes, I'm a proficient combatant. Yes, I'm undoubtedly, indubitably, one-hundred-percent positive the best at what I do. But, above all else... I don't just like what I do. To me, my line of work is more than that. It's a way of life; a creed to live by, something to guide you through life's hectic journey, something to brighten up even the dullest of days. In short? I love what I do. I positively adore it." And with that, he was done. All too soon, as well; for someone was interrupting them. He threw himself back as they disconnected, coat-tails flailing; and he grinned, flashing a subtle wink at the General. If she could accept all this... then perhaps... perhaps he could work for her. Spade's presence was enjoyable... but his work ethic was... lacking. Especially for Ayden.

"Cheese-man..." Oh. That was him, was it? Well this was... odd. The man was... a bit... strange. Perhaps his gullibility would reflect his eccentricity? Ayden certainly hoped so. If all had gone well, after giving the General some time to process him, all tied up now as a file, with a nice little blood-red ribbon sitting atop, there could be further business to discuss.

"Shhh!" Ayden slammed a finger to his lips angrily, clapped his hands down on the man's shoulder. "Don't say it so loudly!" He spoke quickly, before taking the man aside - still in Reila's earshot - and speaking further.

"You have been blessed, my friend... with a great and terrible burden. With this great and terrible burden comes great power..." Ayden locked gazes with the strange man. "And... we all know... with great power... comes great responsibility..." He stood up straight, shuffling into an alcove, trying to appear as wise a figure as possible.

"You know now... of my true identity. By day... I am lawful, kind, helpful citizen and State Alchemist, Major Ayden Derocha... but by night... I am the spandex-wearing superhero vigilante... Cheese-Man!" He hissed it; as if it were a matter of the greatest importance. A giddy grin on his face, it quickly became evident the silver-haired assassin was enjoying himself.

"You must keep my identity a total and complete secret! The only other mortal soul who knows is the good General there... but my trust has been placed in you! I cannot have my vigilante activities brought to an end! I am so close to finally uncovering the evil Blue Cucumber's regimes and schemes, and exposing him for the true criminal he is!" Ayden was hissing now, his face deadly serious. "Look for my signal launched from atop the Central Library. I will display it in the clouds of Amestris when I need your assistance, friend... for you are now... my side-kick... The Stilton Ranger!" He pointed a finger at the man, leather-clad and almost accusing; if not for the context. Ayden was blessing and bestowing a 'title of great importance' upon this weird guy.

"You are my sidekick... and this means... you must assist me in any way possible," Ayden flashed a look towards the various militants and volunteers cleaning up the remnants of the little cheese-rain display he'd created. "And to begin... I wish for you to provide a cover-up of the utmost discretion for the latest of my cheese-liberating activities; the fondue rain!" He subtly jabbed a finger in the direction of the site of said cheesy precipitation, before shuffling away; he straightened himself up, dusted down his leather jacket, and glanced down towards the man - the height difference still a couple of inches - one more. "Remember, you must never give away any knowledge of my activities! We must never meet in person - or my alter ego's integrity will become comprised, and balance... balance will fall," A grim look struck the pale face. "And the criminals will rise up to take Amestris once more!"

A pause. Ayden turned on his heel, standing up to full height, and adjusting his coat and shirt. He turned, and offered a wink to Animos as he walked back to Reila, mouthing 'good luck'; in an instant, he was back by the General's side, beaming as if nothing had happened. "Now," He said, making the final tweaks to his appearance, flipping his jacket tails. "Where were we?"

“We'd have to see on that one, sir. I'm... tentative... with my Alchemic secrets, even around those of great power. Do not get me wrong: I would be glad to show you. It'd just have to be a more... clandestine meeting. Perhaps my Development Centre at Briggs? One of the more difficult and inaccessible parts of Briggs, I must admit.”

Hans chuckled, nodding at Dai. “That sounds like a fantastic idea. I would appreciate a tour of Fort Briggs. Enjoy yourself at this party, young man.” Hans watched as Dai walked off and then he returned his gaze back to the other people waiting. The line was slowly dying down, thank goodness. As soon as he was through the last of these people, he would be able to move on to the next part of the evening. The sooner it got here, the sooner it would be over. Hans was looking forward to the lighting ceremony; his speech... not so much. He hated to appear harsh, but unfortunately, he had no other choice.

“Dr. Cora Nikita of Fort Briggs reporting for duty! Forgive me if the attire is incorrect, I can never decide what is proper for these sorts of things.”

Hans returned the salute then reaching to shake Dr. Nikita's hand. “Your attire is quite acceptable, Dr. Nikita. Thank you for taking the journey down from Briggs.” She seemed like a nice young woman and a capable doctor, if Hans was remembering the correct file. So many damned names to remember! She moved on and then he was approached by a blonde woman with a metal hand saluting him. He returned the salute before giving the same hand a firm handshake.

“Excuse me, Chancellor Reinhardt? I’m Lieutenant Colonel Isabella Galicia. Sorry to bother you so shortly after winning the election, but I’m afraid I must ask while I have the chance… I received approval to the State Alchemist program the day before the Cretan Skirmish in West, sir. Would you, by any chance… What I’m asking, Chancellor, is whether or not the program still exists, and if I need to go through the approval process again.”

Hans nodded, digging up whatever tendrils of memories could be found. Ah. Yes. He did remember reading something to that effect in her file. He chuckled at her nervousness, smiling down at her. “Of course we still have the program, Lt. Colonel. We need to recognize our best. I do remember seeing a note in your file about the program. I'll forward the paperwork to necessary people and get you into the program.”

“Chancellor! A pleasure to meet you! I’m a very big fan of your work, good sir. It’s an honor to meet you in person. And to imagine, running into you here! What a coincidence! Anyway, I know you’re a busy, busy man, so I’ll let you get back to your job. Again, a pleasure, good sir.”

The young woman had barely moved on when Hans was confronted by a man who stood just a few inches shorter than him. He enjoyed a firm handshake with the man, clearly a soldier. Yet before he could ask who he had the pleasure of meeting, the man had moved on. He would have to dig out his files later, but for now... AH! The end was near! He allowed himself a cheeky grin at Brigitte, who was still standing steadfast besides him.