The Fall From Heaven.... (Open?)

"How the mighty have fallen." That was the quote that came to mind for tonight. The once great General Tataki Masu, now drunk and seemingly down and out in a bar in central. He had what appeared to be a five o'clock shadow on his normally clean shaven face. Instead of his usually combed back hair it sat, unkempt and as a bowl upon his head. He was nursing his fifth beer, he was usually one to never drink but, he had heard that this bitter tasting golden liquid helped to ease the pain of lose. He had failed, as a general, as a friend, and as a future leader. He had allowed Amestris to be blown up by those horrible people. He had been tricked by the one named Hild. She had never really cared about Amestris and its people. He saw that now, as if the bombs and the clear betrayal weren't clear evidence already. Luckily he wouldn't really need to worry about himself being reported here, everyone minded there own business and depressing matters. They all looked almost as pathetic as he did. He could hear his own voice tearing him a new one as he sat. "Some General you turned out to be, just sitting there and drinking your problems away? Coward...." He just continued to look at his drink at this self inflicted beating.

All of Amestris had been destroyed, and it was all his fault. Sure not everyone else had taken it as hard, as it would seem, to him anyway. He finished the drink and then called for another. The bartender tried to say maybe he had enough but, Tataki quickly intimidated him by staring him down and the bartender reluctantly gave him another drink. Tataki reeked of this booze he drank. He didn't see its draw, he still felt miserable and it didn't seem to be numbing him at all. The thoughts of all those people who died and the images of Amestris and East cities destruction still tortured him. It wasn't working, this supposed juice of happiness and eraser of ones nightmares. It seemed he was meant to live with these nightmares of his. He hadn't even had a good nights sleep in months. He would always wake up in a cold sweat driven to a sitting position and then realizing that the images he saw were not real......at least not in the sense they were happening then. He began nursing his drink again, staring into the abyss of the golden liquid....

As opposed to the sad one in this run down bar, honestly Nikolaus actually frequents this bar, A LOT. He too has a stubble, but that's actually not from the fact he is a lazy slob, but mostly because he fancied the rough and macho look. Seated next to Tataki in his casual drabs, consisting of a Hawaiian pattern shirt that's red. And some slacks with a set of loafers that seemed to make him completely a stranger as opposed to his rather well recognized motif of almost always being in uniform.

The fluffy panda that is known as Tataki was barely recognized, the Brigadier is more concerned with his drink and getting some more rounds in before calling it quits and heading off to do whatever it is Nikolaus does in his day. Maybe kick a poodle or two followed by arresting some guy, and pinning something on him just so it'd look important... then again, IT JUST NEVER WAS THE SAME. Not when he has subordinates to do it for him.

So yeah, he wasn't depressed or anything of that sort, just actually in the mood to get drunk until he gave a glimpse to the man to his right to indeed tell whom he was. He could tell from the vanilla white hair that a few people seem to have in the military, this was actually... the guy handcuffed nude after he hit a stripper's joint, to a bed, where a prostitute should have come along, but never did. Tataki Masu. That guy, fonzie of the East. Disappeared after a while oddly.

"At least he is wearing pants this time." He said to himself, forgetting the inclination to infact keep this in thought. Man, this atmosphere really felt hard boiled. Tendering the glass to his lips, raising it and sliding all contents down his throat, slamming the glass to the counter, only to crack it. Inviting the bartender's glare and Nikolaus shrugging at such a hostility. Meh, not like there is any MAJOR harm done. When the bartender started ranting, Nikolaus looks at Tataki, shutting that bartender the Hell up for whatever points he says by IGNORING him maturely, "Tataco Masu, was it? What brings an Eastern commander to this dump?"

"Dump... DUMP?!" The bartender stomped his feet in anger.

"Prestigious establishment of great standing, don't get your anus flared up, douche."

"Eat shit, asshole. Hope you choke on your drink."

"Not like how your mom choked on my dick." The Brigadier General replies with a smile to the fine purveyor of the bar, whom no doubt seems to be tendering the idea of unleashing a shotgun at his grievous insults. It was pretty obvious that he was, considering he was rummaging under the counter. The odds are of him offering an apology drink for the whole hostility is fifty nine thousand, eight hundred and three, to one. Hopefully it was a free drink.

The chosen Amestrian escort was certainly… interesting. Slightly erratic, probably succumbing to one or two mental disorders. Was this a joke, or just a stroke of luck? He certainly had faith in Amestris, but… This man was stretching it. Insisting they stop at a bar? Well, at least they were in the right city, then.

Dietrich hesitated for several moments before getting out of the car. Motioning to most of his men, telling them to stand guard, he enters the bar with Sullivan and Cravetz in tow.

”Tataco Masu, was it? What brings an Eastern commander to this dump?"

Dietrich tilted his head slightly. Studying the man Brigadier General Stuka was talking to, it took him a few moments to recognize him. General Tataki Masu! The once proud man, a great leader, was passing time in a dump like this? No, that wasn’t right. Not a man like Tataki. Something has gone terribly, terribly wrong. A man with a spotless record like his – well, except that incident at the strip club, but Victoire didn’t exactly provide him with many details on that…

His train of thought was quickly interrupted by the back-and-forth between the two Amestrians. Then he saw the man reach under the bar, probably for something to attack the crazy general with.

”Guns at the ready,” he tells his two guards, approaching the bar. ”You’re not exactly running a high-end establishment here, he quips to the bartender. ”Though if I were you, I wouldn’t try anything. That man’s escorting me to the chancellor, and, thus, he’s considered important for international relations. So, don’t be hasty. A round of whiskey for everyone here.” Sitting down next to Tataki, he pauses for a moment. ”And don’t move too quickly. The last time a Prime Minister came to Amestris, he got stabbed and fell off a ferris wheel. My men aren’t about to let that happen, and I assue you they’ll respond with deadly force to any perceived or potential act of aggression,” he says, pointing to his guards.

Giving Stuka a glare for a second, he looks at Tataki. ”General Masu,” he says, reading over the brand of beer he’s drinking, ”I take it things could be going better?” It certainly looked like it. The man was a wreck. Pulling a handkerchief out of his suit pocket, he offers it to Tataki. ”How about we talk about it? I’m sure at the very least I can provide a distraction to your troubles.”

"Tataco Masu, was it? What brings an Eastern commander to this dump?"

He hadn't even noticed the fellow general next to him, he so preoccupied with his drink. But, looking at the man as he got into a fight with the bartender with his, crude remarks. Tataki would normally have reprimanded him but, who was he to judge and scorn this man? Tataki had only met the man on one other occasion....one that was under less than "honorable" circumstances. It did distract him from his troubles though, he hadn't been contacted by Victoire in months, he did wonder where she was? Was she OK? Was the possibility of their child OK? Over all it just led back to his self loathing. If she was dead it was most likely his fault, since she probably died here in Amestris, as far as he could tell. How he hoped she still lived....

He was soon broken from his thoughts as the Leader Dietrich broke up the fight between Nikolaus and the bartender and even ordered drinks for everyone. How.......generous? Tataki guessed, not like it was his money. He didn't even greet the man as he sat down next to him. He was in no way worthy to greet anyone in his condition. But it would seem his want o be alone would not last, as the man quickly made it his business to know his. He simply turned to the man. "Why waste your time on a washed up general who failed at his duties? Forget Amestris I couldn't even protect East City which I was charged with. I am not one deserving of anyone's sympathy." He said denying the handkerchief with a wave of his hand and returning his gaze to his drink.

Ah right, now he remembers a few details earlier that he led King Dietrich to this rundown bar. All to give him a taste of Amestrian cuisine not pampered enough to fluff up his taste, nothing too fancy as to be a huge show off, but rather some humble establishment that may or may not actually have sentiments on Nikolaus for him often coming here, and causing trouble with the patrons. Said patrons being criminals and freaks of all natures, and he was merely doing his job anyways, which makes it unusual the self-exiled Tataki was the one who was actually here... not that he has qualms and thoughts about him being a criminal in the first place.

"Guns at the ready," Ah yes, he heard that line in Cretan, and he understood it perfectly, looks like the King has qualms about this place, or rather the unfriendly elements that would no doubt think thrice before even attacking someone who reeks of diplomatic incidents in the event they DO, and in that case, get a thrashing.

"You’re not exactly running a high-end establishment here, Though if I were you, I wouldn’t try anything. That man’s escorting me to the chancellor, and, thus, he’s considered important for international relations. So, don’t be hasty. A round of whiskey for everyone here. And don’t move too quickly. The last time a Prime Minister came to Amestris, he got stabbed and fell off a ferris wheel. My men aren’t about to let that happen, and I assue you they’ll respond with deadly force to any perceived or potential act of aggression."

Ah yes, the carnival. He recalls that. He was once there, and he does remember that some of the patrons here are disgruntled veterans of the "Dietrich" war or so the newbies and kiddies call it. He was impressed, so it was true, the King can definitely convince a duck that it is in fact a fifty ton gorilla that is purple. It should explain how he managed to invade Amestris, destroy the Western territories with a fraction of a force, and singlehandedly forge an alliance ON the spot. If anything, he is a military genius only seen once a generation or so it goes. Anyways, should be a good time to behave a tad bit, not set the wrong impression despite the scuffle with that stupid bartender.

That glare he got was misinterpreted for a queue for Nikolaus to make a comment rather than something hostile, "No wonder why the folks here call you silver-tongued Dietrich." He complimented with a smile, taking a gander at the Taco, or was it Tataki?

"Why waste your time on a washed up general who failed at his duties? Forget Amestris I couldn't even protect East City which I was charged with. I am not one deserving of anyone's sympathy."

"Washed up? Pfffft, you give yourself too little credit. That's just your drink speaking." Nikolaus took the fizzling whiskey bottle the bartender set for him, chugging it in one go as he was unaware what contents were put into his whiskey, emptying the glass in a gulp as it was set back down on the counter, "Aside from the fact it seems every interesting characters seem to be fond of gathering in an inn, you're a hero for collecting up East quite well as opposed to West, and not to mention you're a great tactician. Only a few Amestrian commanders here were able to square off with the genius King Dietrich here in our war with Creta previously." He looks at Dietrich pleasantly, "Hope you don't mind me using you as a standard for military commanders, your highness."

The smile he put up, he hated it. It boiled within Stuka with a great anger, the charade he had to put up. The niceness, all that stuff. But he played the facade as required.

"Why waste your time on a washed up general who failed at his duties? Forget Amestris I couldn't even protect East City which I was charged with. I am not one deserving of anyone's sympathy."

Hm. He certainly was in a rut. This reminded him of someone…

”Washed up? Pfffft, you give yourself too little credit. That's just your drink speaking." Ah yes, James! Always prattling on about how being king was hard, and that there were too many choices… But James was a weak man, with a weak will. Whether his statement was right or wrong, he was still focusing on the negative. Were war looming between the two countries, he’d jump at the opportunity to shove this man further in to the bottle, though it would be a shame for the world to lose what he suspected was a brilliant mind. But Amestris needed to be strong. It needed to stand up on its own feet, and so did he!

Watching the bartended place a shot of whiskey in front of Tataki, he quickly slides it towards himself. “Beer before liquor, as they say,” he comments, putting away his handkerchief. He’d rather not help cleaning up after this man any more than he must.

”Of course you’re washed up. Look at you! Something goes wrong, and your first instinct is to drown your troubles in a bottle?” Dietrich snorts, drinking his “stolen” shot of whiskey. ”Resorting to this behavior so quickly means that you’ve either given up, or you’re putting too much blame on yourself. Given that you care, I’d assume it’s the latter of the two. But before you say anything else, tell me this: did you know that your Fuhrer at the time was going to blow the country up?”

"Washed up? Pfffft, you give yourself too little credit. That's just your drink speaking."

The "kind" words fell on deaf ears. True alcohol could cause people to act unnaturally. But, he was fairly certain of his words. He had allowed for the destruction of his people. A genocide that had never happened before during his career. He had apparently grown sloppy at his work. Didn't pay close enough attention to the details. He hadn't micromanaged enough or maybe even too much. Maybe didn't see the bigger picture. Whatever it was, he was sure it was his fault. The people of East City...they just...... never had a chance. The city was in ruins, the city HE was in charge of. Surely, there was something amiss with that, surely someone besides him saw it for what it was.

Tataki didn't really care when the whiskey was taken away from him. What he said wasn't exactly true though. His first attempt hadn't been the alcohol. In fact he had tried to bear the weight of his crushing guilt himself. It was not like he hadn't tried at least. In fact he had only turned to the drink in order to just relieve himself from it for at least a night. Just.....one night. Was that too much to ask. Apparently slow seeing as it hadn't helped at all. Cursed lying scum bags, all of them, he had at least hoped for a dulled pain but, it never came. That's when Dietrich began to continue. This time, Tataki listened to the words. He was about to respond when suddenly Dietrich told him to wait and answer something before that.

The question was like a slap in the face to Tataki. The amount of rage that filled within him would have shattered a weaker man. But, he kept his composure to a degree. After all, he didn't want to be a reason Amestris and Creta went back to war. That would just be the icing on the cake though, wouldn't it? He took in a long breath and then exhaled through his nose, just cooling himself down a little more. No need to get mad, it was a valid question he supposed. "You really think if I had known I wouldn't have done everything in my power to crush those and warn everyone else about what would happen. If I had known I would have had the two of their hearts on a platter just before I made them answer for there crime. No that is to light of a word.......there utter disregard for human life and betrayel of those who trusted them most...." he said calmly and with due cause. He had never been so insulted in his life.

"As for your other question, I turn to the bottle because I wish at least some relief for my own crimes during this war.....nothing more......nothing less." He finished quite drained from holding himself back, he actually shook a little as he held himself back from strangling the man in front of him. Had he been in a better state of mind, he wouldn't even have been shaking right now.

"Of course you’re washed up. Look at you! Something goes wrong, and your first instinct is to drown your troubles in a bottle?" Well, looks like at least Lord Dietrich is ahead and rather forthcoming in solving problems, which makes all the more problems solved easier so to say, or perhaps harder? It is better to watch this albino seamonkey's reaction, not that it would be a wise thing to be overly disrespectful to this golden king's presence, despite Amestris's newly found democracy... "Resorting to this behavior so quickly means that you’ve either given up, or you’re putting too much blame on yourself. Given that you care, I’d assume it’s the latter of the two. But before you say anything else, tell me this: did you know that your Fuhrer at the time was going to blow the country up?"

Ooooh, sounds like a stinger. It could almost make Nikolaus giggle from such direct boldness. The armor piercing question. That one huge slap right across the face, to be called the rhetorical question. Tataki was taking a long inhalation of breath, he could see the fires of anger in his eye provoked to a degree just like that. But alas, he had given him no reason to put the General down, suppose Nikolaus will settle for this old dinged up bartender here anyways. At a later point. But his mouth is starting to taste funny, must be the drink... bit too salty for whiskey. Did that bastard put any pills in his drink? That must explain the fizzling. So Nikolaus gave a quick glare at the damn bartender, whom smiled innocently. Cheeky bastard.

"You really think if I had known I wouldn't have done everything in my power to crush those and warn everyone else about what would happen. If I had known I would have had the two of their hearts on a platter just before I made them answer for there crime. No that is to light of a word.......there utter disregard for human life and betrayel of those who trusted them most.... as for your other question, I turn to the bottle because I wish at least some relief for my own crimes during this war.....nothing more......nothing less."

Well, that was a mouthful. The obvious decisions, the response Illiciting such patriotism to his country, his dedication to his rank, and then his rather most colorful choice in falling to the drink. Still doesn't answer a few things though...

"You have a funny idea of redemption. So your solution to murdering the both of them for their crimes was to sit down here while everyone else are busy working on taking them down?" Nikolaus replied with a scowl on his mouth, "I can already see that you're making lots of progress in placing their hearts on a platter."

He then looks at the bartender, "You better have not put any pills here, you filthy bastard. So help me the Chancellor, should I wind up in Galicia's house... AGAIN, or the like... *slams hand on counter, cracking it* I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU!"

He breathes in and out, exhales and inhales, straightening his clothing and slicking his hair back, the bartender was dead quiet, pale from such sharp accusations. Nikolaus looks back at the both of them with a smile. "Well then, I'll be waiting for you outside securing the perimeter, your Highness. Handle this drunkard at your own leisure."

That said, Nikolaus got off the counter, shooting glares worth a thousand daggers at the bartender. Already feeling funny from the drink, he set off his way, nodding to the Royal Guard. The same Royal Guards that managed to take down West's Jet's black Templar, among so many other Amestrians.

"If you have ANY sense of vengeance in yourself, then stop being a pansy. Go out there and get your revenge, they will be waiting in Drachma. Otherwise, go back to being a drunken defeatist. There is no General Masu here, only a coward as I see it." That said to the poor chap, to the down on his luck general, Stuka headed outside the pub/inn/thingy, opening the door to leave before he had to suffer the unfortunate Masu's presence any longer. Proceeding to vomit with two fingers to his uvula causing it, emptying all stomach contents to a dumpster on the sidewalk.

(Skip as much as you'd like, unless headed outside of the pub.)

"You really think if I had known I wouldn't have done everything in my power to crush those and warn everyone else about what would happen. If I had known I would have had the two of their hearts on a platter just before I made them answer for there crime. No that is to light of a word.......there utter disregard for human life and betrayel of those who trusted them most.... as for your other question, I turn to the bottle because I wish at least some relief for my own crimes during this war.....nothing more......nothing less."

Dietrich nods, quietly asking the bartender for some yogurt and jam. Quickly receiving it, he looks at it for a moment, contemplating.

"You have a funny idea of redemption. So your solution to murdering the both of them for their crimes was to sit down here while everyone else are busy working on taking them down? I can already see that you're making lots of progress in placing their hearts on a platter." Dietrich smirks slightly, amused by the strange man’s response. At least he wasn’t the only one fighting dirty.

Picking up his brandy, he swirls it a bit, watching it, biding his time until he had the right words to say. His train of thought, however, was quickly interrupted.

”You better have not put any pills here, you filthy bastard. So help me the Chancellor, should I wind up in Galicia's house... AGAIN, or the like… I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU!"

Looking over at the general, he raises an eyebrow. Galicia? Now where’d he heard that name before…

”You’re a patriot then, General Masu. A dedicated, bleeding heart patriot. Just what your country needs, and has always needed. Militants dedicated to the people, not just the leader.” Then again, there was Reila, who bordered on going rogue… But that was neither here nor there. ”You care about what happens, and you’ve taken this blame onto yourself. You find yourself guilty because you couldn’t do anything. You were helpless. And I certainly wasn’t helping at the time.”

Turning to the yogurt again, he sighs. ”How familiar are you with the science called ‘physics?’” Perhaps a stupid question, since it was similar to alchemy in some respects, but Creta didn’t have as great an emphasis on alchemy as Amestris did. ”The second law of thermodynamics dictates that, in a closed structure, only decay will occur.” Taking a spoon, he begins to mix the jam into the yogurt, moving the spoon clockwise. ”Eventually, it will decay and become part of the surrounding environment equally. Unless, of course, it is made into an open system, in which case it can be repaired. Much like how a person needs to eat to survive, a country also needs to be made open. To repair, to rebuild, to make itself better.” Pausing, he looks at his pink yogurt, now spinning counter-clockwise. ”At the same time, though, one cannot reverse what happened. No matter how much I spin this yogurt in the opposite direction, the jam will not reform. Our only option, General Masu, is to move forward with the hand we have.”

Taking a spoonful of yogurt, he regrets his decision to order it. ”General, there’s no point in dwelling in the past. You cannot fail something you didn’t try to achieve, and you said yourself that you didn’t know what the Furher was up to. In fact, given that everyone was in the dark, I’d wager that there was no way you could. So, instead of guilt, regain focus. Focus on rebuilding this country, returning it to normal, and making it better. And join us, General, in the fight against RIOTE. Blaming yourself and drowning your troubles away in a bottle isn’t how you do things. It’ll only make you mourn more, and use it as a crutch.”

Turning towards Tataki, he hesitates for a moment. This is where people… hug? He didn’t know the bloody protocol for this sort of thing. Hell, the last time he saw someone cracking under pressure…

”You know, I originally wasn’t the first choice for prince,” he says. ”My cousin, James, was. We were equal parts royal, and so it was decided I would become Duke of Philadelphia instead. But James found himself cracking. He wasn’t up to the task, the potential, of ruling, and turned to the bottle. You see, Tataki, it starts with drinking your troubles away one night, then you start to use it more and more.” Turning back towards the bar, he motions the bartender for another shot. ”And unless you’ve got the network to support your drunken exploits like General Aeries, you’ll only see yourself discharged. Wouldn’t do much good for your country then, would you?” He chuckles. "Not like Aeries is doing much good, anyway. His protege, Brighton, seems to be far better at the task of leading..."