The Crow and the Butterfly

The silver-haired, slender figure inched the door open and slipped in as discretely as he possibly could, but, unfortunately, there was still the creaking of the frame to put up with. Wincing as he gently eased the handle down and pushed the structure back into clutch, turning and quickly surveying the room and its many doors, Ayden let a subsonic sigh slip out into the atmosphere. For now, it seemed, this mysterious Lieutenant Colonel Ito that he'd heard so much and yet so little about was either absent, or off in another room somewhere.

Grasping a nearby chair and slowly - ever-so-slowly, still hesitant to give himself away so quickly - pulled it up, before collapsing back into the simple metal frame. Even the cushion was lined with various nicks, callouses, and cuts, and wasn't exactly the most comfortable seating experience he'd ever indulged himself in.

Nevertheless, he wanted to make a certain impression. A lot of people respected stealth and discretion, and as irritating as it was to muster, if Ito hadn't heard him upon his return to the laboratory - of sorts, at least - then, well, it'd be a good enough icebreaker, and would say plenty enough of the assassin's skills. He was certainly a man of many talents, indeed, and perhaps even a jack-of-all-trades; but the 'master of none' didn't apply to him, really. To be honest, he sought a favourite above all else; his skill levels weren't equalised above the board. As everyone in a close-enough radius probably knew from his regular giddy announcements of it, Ayden absolutely adored killing. It was his domain, his skill, his calling card, his raison d'etre, whatever. He just loved to do it.

Surveying the lab, it came off as fairly... odd. Shelf after shelf of typical Amestrian-issue assault rifles, sub-machine guns, pistols, and the odd hand grenade, as well as a desk, a workbench, and various pots and jars containing screws, fixings, and even an assortments of rounds and casings all gave the lab the appearance of an armoury as opposed to anything else. But, Ayden, if nothing else, was analytical, and that smell of mechanical lubricant upon the air meant that this man was an engineer before a fighter. Secretly, he wondered just how much this would speak of the man. Was he a true grease-monkey? Would he show up with a patchy beard, a bandana, and a wrench in either hand?

Or, as Briggs had shown itself to be so far, would he be a little more unorthodox? Perhaps not assuming the presence of his position, perhaps... perhaps a little more bookish? Or maybe even wild, possibly even so that Ito could rival Ayden himself in sheer impulsiveness. The man acted on a whim all the time, and adjusted his battle plan not usually according to tactics, but simply for the display he felt like giving; but, here, he felt as if he were seven years old again, sitting on the bench outside the headmaster's office for the first time, waiting, just waiting to talk to him.

Ugh, memories. A painful, messy business, especially with Ayden. He tacked a mental note away and did his best to suppress those that branched off from that particular tree. His home life hadn't been all that spectacular, to say something of an understatement. He raised a leather-clad hand to gently rub his temple, and sighed once more. The more he waited, the less composure he would seem to have when the man finally entered. Here, he was the rookie again. He was new to Briggs, and how it functioned as a system. As an alchemy specialist, he figured he'd be working closely with the arms developer of the fort, and, as such, this meeting's reason was twofold. First off, it was another possible candidate for camaraderie or manipulation, and, second-off, he just needed to know the order of the day and any projects they had going.

Anyway, Ayden's analytical cerulean orbs then moved to other shelves, and began to scan the intricacies, the little widgets and doodads that made a weapon of mass-destruction function as it did. In all honesty, arms development was fairly basic, to start with. Not many people knew that if you mixed equal parts of gasoline and frozen orange juice concentrate, you had an effective chemical explosive on your hands. Napalm. Light the fuse, and you could blow a roomful of people away in an instant. A sticky, phosphorus-like explosive that burned hot and heavy.

He sighed for the third time, completing a triumvirate of exhalations, and thought to himself, letting heavy, pale eyelids fall shut. He hadn't killed anyone in some time, and neither had he seen Jeu-Hee, either. He was going to need some form of activity to sate this stupidly intense hunger that burnt now within him stronger than ever, it seemed, and if he didn't feed the urge soon enough, he was fairly confident he'd lose control. And that was never pretty.

Maybe he could spar, or something? Life was getting just a little too light-hearted, and overall, pleasant. Perhaps train down at the range, or discuss alchemy with the good General... who he still hadn't spoken to since the fondue debacle down at South. He had yet to make his appearance grandiose and announced; after all, the Briggs soldiers needed a fine moral icon such as himself. His presence would be more than required, would it not? None were as fit for the conditioning and manipulating of morale as then-Colonel Ayden Derocha...

For the third time in about fifteen minutes, an explosion rocked the small office that lead on into a usually-decorated armory. If Ayden were to look for the source of the explosion, he would look into the armory--it was the only door out of that room, other than the main doorway. Of course, he would not find the source within that room. Gritting his teeth, the redheaded man that was exceptionally well-hidden coughed loudly, pushing his hand up against the hidden door. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Coughing some more, he pressed the button in order to open it, stepping out with the billowing smoke rising up behind him. The clicking of the door closing up behind him once more hid away the smoking development centre, Daigoro shaking his head slowly. He'd been attempting to use his magnetism with a mixture of iron filings and black powder, in order to manufacture a far more powerful explosion within the cartridge of a bullet--through his Alchemic processes, of course. It had worked, that was for sure. Recording an improvement of approximately 350%, he had detonated it... in his own face. Luckily, he was wearing a pair of safety goggles and put up an Alchemic field in order to stop himself from being too harmed by shrapnel. Well, it had worked.

Clothing blackened by soot and coughing up a storm, the man rounded the corner and slumped up against the door, finally receding to a stop and looking up in order to meet the gaze of the man who he had not seen in this building. It took him a few seconds to recognize him. That was the man who was dancing with Reila in the Five Sphere Garden. Hm. Stumbling forwards slightly, he managed to get himself upright and laugh softly. "Ah, give me a minute. Let me go... change." He was in coveralls, ones that were, at one point, a light blue. Now, though, they were a deep grey, covered in soot, grease and dirt. Reila probably wouldn't like this, but he felt at home with his mind working on such things, putting items together to make new ones up. It was exercise for his mind--the mind of a man who got bored, relatively easily. Smiling quietly, he ducked out of the room and started to run, making quick work of the distance between his office and his dorm room. Ever since stuff happened, he'd been assigned his own personal room--so it made it tons easier to sort himself out. Sadly, it was still a mess. Dai had never been too good at cleaning.

Letting the coveralls drop to the ground in a heap beneath him, the Alchemist breathed out, reaching hands up and letting his fingers run through the long and luscious locks. "Ugh." Having cut it to reach the small of his back now, the redhead took better care of that hair, simply to prove that guys looked good with longer hair. Smiling to himself, he reached down for some rather casual clothes, a t-shirt and loose pants--clothing that, for the most part, really did not suit the Briggs environment. A pair of comfortable shoes went onto his feet and he stretched, closing his eyes and yawning. "Work like that takes it out of ya~" Satisfied with how he looked, Daigoro slowly walked out of the room, tears in the edges of his eyes from the yawn. It was cold here, in Briggs. At least, that's what he'd been told. Briggs had always been cold, but never to him. He could feel the warm pulse beating through the bodies of its people. Briggs, despite being so distant and cold, was held up by its soldiers. That's why Daigoro loved Briggs. There was a sense of community in this place that one could never see in any of the other HQs.

His trip back to his office was slower, for good reason. This man that was in here, he wasn't too sure about his presence. He hadn't been told of his arrival, nor had he heard of any new transfers. The fact that he was no longer Head of Military Operations meant that he didn't have as much knowledge of the personnel as he once had. That was both a blessing and a curse, though in this instance? That was yet to be seen. Slowly padding down the hallways, he made his way to the office that led onto the Armory, poking his head through the door and smiling softly, yet calmly. "Apologies for the wait. I wasn't expecting visitors today--I don't get the access to the personnel files like I used to. Security didn't make me aware, either." A red eye dropped onto the blinking answerphone. Oh. "Scratch that. Security attempted to make me aware." He laughed softly and dryly, stepping forwards into the room and moving around his desk, brushing himself off and taking a seat with a yawn. "As for who I am--the fact that you're in my office, sitting on this chair in front of me? It makes me assume that you know more than enough, so I'll keep it brief. Lieutenant Colonel Daigoro Ito, Head of Arms Development here in Fort Briggs. And I'll let you know this now. It doesn't matter what your military rank is. Here, I may be a Lieutenant Colonel, but I have plenty of power as it is." He exhaled slowly, looking carefully at the white-haired man.

Prognosis? Not a threat, at least not too much of one. He certainly looked like someone who could bring out some rather deadly Alchemy, but it was usually pretty easy to defend against most attacks, especially with his own specialty. He chuckled softly. No need to reveal too much right now. Closing one eye slowly, he watched with non-malicious intent. "So, what can you tell me about yourself, Mr...?"

Ayden was fastened to the chair, surveying eagerly the room and trying his best to analyse just what sort of person Daigoro Ito was. Well-kept? Chaotic? Perhaps a little disorganised and messy? Ayden even let a small chuckle escape between it all, just over the fact that a workplace could tell you so much and simultaneously so little about a person.

Truth be told, most wouldn't be that calm or at ease as much as the assassin was around tools of war and absolute destruction. But then again... a wayward glance settled on bare skin, engraved with ink, that had escaped into the cold, fresh air between the end of his sleeve and the beginning of his glove. He'd dedicated his entire life to war. His very flesh, skin and bone made him a walking, talking, breathing weapon. And he couldn't help but wonder... what if things had been different?

He'd been musing on it for a few days now. It was official; the assassin, the murderer, the proprietor and progenitor of slaughter and misfortune had been thinking about other lives he could've lead. Not out of regret; oh, no, he still loved what he did. That misconception would get... ugly. Redemption... ugh. Not a hope in hell. Just... wondering about... what if he'd gotten a normal job? Grown up a normal person with a normal family, normal friends, normal brothers and sisters?

Eh. Things would probably be a hell of a lot less exciting-

An explosion racked the room. Ayden's ears began to ring; passers-by in corridors outside ducked for cover as the man simply sat there, patting flat, leather-clad hands against his ears and humming quietly as the echoes subsided. That hadn't sounded like a grenade... or not any conventional explosive, anyway. No... far more... similar to that resounding, reverberating crash of a bullet being fired... just the sound amplified, catalysed. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

A hawk-like neck flexed, muscles, skin, and all, as the head atop it spun directly to the source of the muffled ears. People got to their feet outside and patted themselves down in the ambience, going about their regular business once more. Most people weren't as accustomed to explosions as Ayden was; sure, as was to be expected, his ears had suffered just a little, but he could overcome that horrific ringing noise fairly quickly; in his line of work, being aware, analytical, and able to pinpoint such a sound wasn't a gift. It was staple. It was required.

A chill ran down him again; this wasn't caused by the cold air that'd filled the room. He'd since acclimatised to the freezing, numbing cold of the icy Northern wastes. Coupled with the sudden warmth of the room as the door spilled open and a figure, accompanied by clouds of thick black smoke, stumbled out... no, he wasn't cold. He was content. Adaptability was key, after all. The chill that ran down him was something unnatural, something caused by someone or something else. An entity watching over, the clouds, stars, and sunlight hovering over and ready to descend, or perhaps just fate itself. It was odd, but far from irregular or unusual. Ayden felt these chills all the time.

"Ah, give me a minute. Let me go... change." Ayden nodded slowly; quietly, the only sound audible the repeated straining of his overcoat's collar. The black smoke dissipated and he took a snapshot of Daigoro Ito in all his glory. A good six inches shorter than him; a slender frame, not too dissimilar from his own, although he was clearly younger. Ayden was a scary judge of two things when it came to meeting new people; character and thread. So far, Ito's presence had only raised a few red flags in the domain of each - less than most.

As Daigoro removed his overalls in the other room, similarly, Ayden considered it time to stand up and get ready for... interaction. He let his pale face adjust, and a grin crept onto it, carving aside the deathly-white pallor with thin pink lips. He shrugged off the overcoat, grasped it by the collar, and raised it to hang it upon a nearby peg. He still had his jacket on, but, now, the Colonel's various weapons were far more visible than they had been. He'd set Perseus, Andromeda, and Typhon down in the bag, and even released his jacket, removing the illusion of stealth, one of his greatest assets. That itself was respect; he wasn't about to relinquish his weaponry.

"Work like that takes it out of ya~" He was returning. Ayden remained on his feet, simply standing there awaiting the man's return. Finally... he'd get to actually scan him up and down, see what kind of person he was - and more importantly, for the self-centred egotist, whether his assumptions had been right.

Daigoro Ito, as he'd seen before, was a head or two shorter than him. Slender frame... red eyes. Signature Ishvallan; his skin wasn't nearly dark enough to make him fully so, so perhaps... a quarter? Ah, it didn't matter. Ayden could at least ascertain his heritage there. His figure was actually... rather petite. Almost feminine. The man was nothing like he'd expected. He seemed... calm. At ease. Not nearly scarred enough to be a grizzled old instructor or a wacky engineer of an arms developer. Didn't fit the stereotypes, and for his rank... well, his presence was a little less impressive and grandiose than he'd thought it would be. Ito's hair was even longer than his own; that was an achievement.

"That was... something," Vague, to start with. He didn't bother raising a hand to tap his ears, or even flash a smile. The grin had all but vanished. His demeanour was archetypical of the assassin figure; cold, calm, collected, calculating, cool... and above all else, neutral. Daigoro dove straight in with an introduction of his own, a fast-talking spiel if anything else.

"Apologies for the wait. I wasn't expecting visitors today--I don't get the access to the personnel files like I used to. Security didn't make me aware, either." The gazes of the pair both flicked immediately to the answerphone, blinking. Well, at least he was... perceptive. In a way. "Scratch that. Security attempted to make me aware." Dry, soft laugh... friendly. Ayden let his guard down, let his figure shrug... gah, as underwhelmed as he was, the man was at least on good terms with him for now. "As for who I am--the fact that you're in my office, sitting on this chair in front of me? It makes me assume that you know more than enough, so I'll keep it brief. Lieutenant Colonel Daigoro Ito, Head of Arms Development here in Fort Briggs. And I'll let you know this now. It doesn't matter what your military rank is. Here, I may be a Lieutenant Colonel, but I have plenty of power as it is."

Confident. Ayden arched an eyebrow in response but didn't say anything. That was a speech, a spiel, sure enough; but if there was one thing he could tell by now, it was that the man was definitely similar to him in a way. Every part had its finale, every speech its climax. Every threat, its rush, where those weaker, those lesser, those pitiful and pathetic... would break. "So, what can you tell me about yourself, Mr...?"

Excellent. Finally, his turn to respond in kind. And, typical of Ayden, he'd ignore the man's question completely to start with; he'd go off on a tangent. "Quite an explosion, I'd say. Smoke's consistency was a little too thick to be conventional explosive... powder of some variety, am I correct?" He rose his hands and clapped them together, stepping forwards, black heels of black boots slamming against the grimy, grease-caked, nick-marked floor. "I'd recommend that you even out the percentages of the powder, maybe drop it, include higher quotients of the other catalysts..." He trailed off, sounding almost bored. Bored in his professionalism; he meant business. He wasn't some greenhorn, wet behind the ears. He'd been in the business of murder long enough to know a properly-manufactured tool and explosion when he knew it.

Now... finally, time to respond. "Anyway. I can't tell you much about myself," His gaze spun around the room, flicking from wall to wall, before, finally, cerulean orbs locked with Daigoro's, bright crimson. "Colonel Ayden Derocha, and Briggs' new alchemy specialist, Mr. Ito. Please, call me Ayden," He outstretched a hand, and put on a smile... warm, friendly, and, hopefully, if he'd tweaked it right, the transition from cold to hot would perhaps be... unsettling. Testing the younger man's perception. If he could call Ayden out on this as Reila had done... heh. Perhaps he'd be worthwhile to work with after all. "Other than that, I'm just here to say that we'll most likely be working together. Hopefully we can reach some form of a compromise if such a situation develops that I'm indeed required to create some form of alchemical behemoth of a weapon, eh?" Heh. Now that... that would be interesting.

"...hahahahah!" As was his calling card in the world of many false sociopaths and delusional pretenders, Ayden broke immediately into giddy laughter as realisation hit his pale pallor, letting his hands raise upwards gently, ever so gently, before coming down in a deadly-fast arc and clapping against his sides. Oh, this was funny, just too funny! How coincidental it was that this man was so... oddly unsuitable?! It was almost similar to his predicament, was it not? He'd known it before, but he couldn't outline it, put his finger on it...

The laughter, however, was fleeting. The giggles subsided and were gone as soon as they'd arrived. This man would be fun. If not for a companion as a plaything... aye, though he'd have to be careful. Immediately from his laughter he shot back into an analytical, cold expression, as he surveyed the facial tensions and reactions, the flushing and pallors of his cheeks that were elemental to whatever someone thought; only the most experienced liars could shield their bodies from interpretation. "So, Daigoro," Disregard for rank. Hopefully this would solicit some form of reaction. Maybe he'd play the manipulation gambit a little straighter this time. "Are you a man or weaponry or science? Gunpowder or chemistry textbooks?" A thin, slender, pink snake-like tongue darted out as Ayden licked his lips, bucked his head closer, and whispered the last few words. "...bullets and blades, or peroxides and hydroxides?" Ah, the finale. How Ayden savoured it so.

The walk with Viktor had been so unusually... stale. He'd felt off-centre ever since he'd arrived... and now the grandeur was coming back to him. Heh, perhaps Jeu-Hee was finally making him that little bit more rational, that little bit more regular, a touch more... normal. Well, he just couldn't have that. And there wasn't any chance he was going down without a fight. Normalcy was so... pathetically boring. Insanity... insanity was so much more fun! Oh, the grandeur, the best of symphonies, the murder and slaughter upon canvas after canvas... just how excellent they could prove. Pah, real psychopaths spat on the communities and were isolated and mocked for their ways of thinking, when, indeed, they should be the ones to rule...

"Simply put, my good man, I'm asking if you're an 'alchemist', in layman's terms," He paused, and took a shifty, mocking look from side to side, before letting another giggle escape the shackles and clutches of what little rationality and self-control dwelt within him. "Or... a god in scientists'," That... that was effect enough, no? Haha. How entertaining, how positively riveting it would be to see the man's reaction.

One look, and Daigoro was already sorely interested by the presence of the man. Though Ayden would not have realized, Daigoro's eyes had already scanned his appearance before he'd left the room, gone down to his own, returned and looked at his posture when he had come back. As Daigoro stood there, scanning and comparing Ayden's posture from then and now, he could tell that the white-haired man had been scanning his appearance just as much. He had to wonder exactly what his position in Briggs told other people about his physical appearance. When he saw most arms developers, he envisioned a grizzled, old man with a few scars and an eye-patch over an explosion burn. Instead, here was this petite young man, with hair that reached the small of his back and a rather slim, almost feminine appearance to body. He was the epitome of what you wouldn't expect a high-ranking Briggs operative to be, but he survived in this harsh wasteland, almost just as well as others. In fact, he'd been here for almost two years--a strange amount of time, if you think about it. Just eight months back he had left Briggs in order to save the memories of the woman that he was in love with. He would not continue to think upon this, however. Instead, his eyes went back to studying Ayden who, by now, would probably have discerned everything that he felt he needed to know about Daigoro.

"...So, what can you tell me about yourself, Mr...?" "Quite an explosion, I'd say." Avoiding the question? Strange. It was unusual for people to avoid speaking about themselves--humans had an egotism that was to be fulfilled. So either this man did not want Daigoro to know who he was... or he wanted Daigoro to want to know above everything else. Chuckling quietly, the red eyes flickered quickly over Ayden's face, settling on the long scar crossing the visage. "Smoke's consistency was a little too thick to be conventional explosive... powder of some variety, am I correct?" Almost. "Heh. Close enough." The sound of a pair of boots slamming onto the ground cause Dai's orbs to flicker directly downwards, checking upon the known position of the sound before traveling back up to Ayden's face. "I'd recommend that you even out the percentages of the powder, maybe drop it, include higher quotients of the other catalysts..." The second's silence was broken by soft laughter from the redhead. "Not that easy. I'd probably have to reduce the overall percentage of iron filings... though I'll get to discussing that with others, later." Strange, though. The man sounded bored with that small discussion point. Possibly a professional? Another arms developer? No, no. He seemed to only give a small idea of such things--he wasn't as technical as Dai, nor did he seem to show the same satisfaction that he got when tinkering with such small things. Probably someone who worked often with weaponry, though? He'd have to pry further.

"Anyway. I can't tell you much about myself," Tch. Sociopath. Someone who attempted to get others to hang upon his every word. He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. People had attempted to manipulate him before--he was too steadfast in such things. "Colonel Ayden Derocha, and Briggs' new alchemy specialist, Mr. Ito. Please, call me Ayden," Azure locked with a soft red, and a hand was outstretched to welcome the man to meet him. Biting his bottom lip, the redhead reached out the metallic hand, gripping Ayden's own with his automail right. Strange. This person had changed so quickly. As a man who could quite honestly change his mental state with a single emotion, Dai should've been used to this. But Ayden seemed to do it differently. Pushing away the slight worry to the back of his mind, Dai shook and returned his hand back to his side of the desk. Territories had already been made, it seemed. They had met in between, yet warred with each other through simple gazes, hand gestures, tokens of speech. Daigoro was already wary of this, so he would meet Ayden's coolness with a calm that would, hopefully, remove any thoughts of being settled in that Ayden had. "Other than that, I'm just here to say that we'll most likely be working together."

An Alchemy Specialist, he said? Alchemy Specialist, that would be interesting. A man who supposedly specialized in how Alchemy worked? Or how it was used in battle? There were two distinct differences with those ideas--Daigoro was actually a bit of both; though he understood how it worked first and then applied that knowledge into battle. "Hopefully we can reach some form of a compromise if such a situation develops that I'm indeed required to create some form of alchemical behemoth of a weapon, eh?" Oh? So, he expected something of that sort, huh? Dai's mouth opened slightly, the man laughing at the same rate as Ayden--his own light and calm laughter sitting in harmonious tones with Ayden's loud, giddy laughter. Because of this, the effect that was originally desired would not be achieved through the same means--Daigoro's mind was still calm and in place. Their laughter both died down at about the same rate, Dai's eyes calmly flickering open and studying the motions of Ayden's face. Daigoro... was certainly no sociopath. He was antisocial, yes. However, his problem was with large crowds. This man... there was a difference, here. Daigoro was simply... calm. Calm and there, almost melting into the background. He showed personality when he willed it, though not always for the reasons of manipulation.

"So, Daigoro," Already treading upon impersonal ground? Without hesitating, a voice played back across to Ayden, interrupting whatever he was about to say first. "Please, call me Dai. We're going to be working closely, it's only fair that we're more personal." Whatever idea that Ayden had about manipulating Dai in that sense had already been shot down, simply by removing the idea that Dai cared for rank being disregarded. "Are you a man or weaponry or science?" Oh? What sort of question was this? "Gunpowder or chemistry textbooks?" Tch. Trying to call him out? "...bullets and blades, or peroxides and hydroxides?" Ah, the finale. He could already see what Ayden was trying to ask. Was Daigoro a man who felt more at home on the battlefield with weapon in hand, or behind the scenes, flicking through the pages of the next textbook. How could he answer such a cut-and-paste question? Slowly standing up, Daigoro turned around in mock thought. There was not any need to truly think about such a question--he had already known the answer from the very beginning. Weaponry or science? Psh. There was no need to think.

A small smirk lined Dai's lips as the pallid man continued to speak--"Simply put, my good man," Here. There was the climax. This was it. "I'm asking if you're an 'alchemist', in layman's terms," Well, that was simple enough on its own, though Ayden wasn't quite finished now, was he? "Or... a god in scientists'," The small smirk faded, Dai's face turning completely serious for a half-second. Why was there any need to think? Thought would only ruin the effect. If he hesitated, then there would be another battle lost. It had been the same with Vanity, he could not have hesitated as he spoke to her, insulted her very existence, yet attempted to empower her to question it in much the same fashion. The seriousness was once again replaced by a calm smile, Dai's back facing Ayden. The shoulders began to shake and a quiet laughter rose up into the air in front of the calm man, Dai throwing his head back ever-so-slightly, staring up into the ceiling as his laughter simply grew in volume and poise. "Ah... ahahah... I haven't... aha... Let me calm down, first." By the time the word 'calm' was spoken, Daigoro's body had resumed its original demeanor, the man turning around to face Ayden without a second's hesitation.

"Ah, I have not had such a laugh in a long while. Congratulations on amusing me so." Turning away from Ayden, he started to walk towards his workshop, staring through the door into the various weapons and weapons diagrams littered around the cluttered space. "Now, let me tell you the answer to that question. Ayden, Ayden, Ayden. It seems that... you really do not understand." He slowly turned, making a mocking bow to the sociopath man and chuckling. "Weaponry is science. Gunpowder, you learn of it through those 'Chemistry Textbooks', yet you experience it as you continue through this life. Peroxides and hydroxides... they can be just as deadly as those bullets and blades you speak of. One is all, all is one." Reaching down to the floor, he picked up about a gram of the dust. "Did you know? There is enough atomic mass here for this to be deadly?" He grinned. "Simply modify one or two of the polarities within the subatomic structure, and boom." Laughing quietly, Daigoro dropped the dust and turned away once more, looking over his shoulder at the 'Alchemy Specialist'.

"Though... I still haven't answered your question, have I? It seems... almost familiar to you, does it not?" His calmness remained now, Dai's mind not set on victory, simply finishing this without bungling it. "My friend, I am an Alchemist, through and through. I have killed, simply with a touch. Destroyed, once more with but a touch. With enough time, I could rip a large hole through Briggs itself. It is not as difficult as one would think. Though..." Reaching down to his arm and sliding the sleeve of his shirt back all the way, he revealed the metallic sheen of the automail that made up the structural image of his right arm. "It also depends on who has the Alchemy. The weapon, you might say, is the Alchemy itself. The ability to implant one's will onto reality itself, only giving heed to what starting material you have. Take for example... a serial killer, one with a machete, sharpened to an atomic point with Alchemy. It could cut through anything--the heat that you feel when steel slices through flesh and blood is disconcerting, at best. However, when you feel it slice through bone--the thing that keeps your entire body intact--it is even stranger. So much so that... you could almost be stuck in shock. I don't think I'd ever get used to that feeling." Laughing quietly, the man grinned and chuckled, returning to sit upon his seat.

"I believe that I speak too much. I should honestly shut up from time to time, but I seem to get worked up." Let him speak. See what he had to say next. Show him that you were in control of the situation. "Please, continue on. I may have something to show you, if you play your cards correctly. I rarely let people within my own private workshop, but... you never know."

"Please, call me Dai. We're going to be working closely, it's only fair that we're more personal." Ayden nodded, slowly... and responded in kind, his tone soft. Trust was established; they'd found a middle ground and the man appeared to be less than threatening so far. Hopefully he wouldn't portray much of an obstacle.

"Likewise, please call me Ayden. As you've said, position matters little here, eh?" A wink. Nothing suspect; simply a sign of friendship, that ground and progress was being made. Showed that they respected each other. That was good, that was good-

The laughter was unexpected, and perhaps alarming. The man... the man rejected his views? Or perhaps just didn't share them... yet, at least. Ah, well. The day was still young. Ayden joined in the laughter, his own giggles maniacal and just a little uneasy as he simply attempted to go with the flow. To reject such an opportunity would perhaps portray him as rude. Disrespectful, even. He was a reasonable man, no? And compromise would come as part and parcel of his attempts to simply rise through the higher echelons of the military, and keep a powerful position of influence... where he could deny all evidence of his so-called 'less-than-honourable' activities. Ha. He was just as necessary as those fat pigs who sat up in their chairs and ruled the countries of the Earth. He was just as necessary as Reinhardt. Vermont. Aeries. Kagura, Allende... even Tsukino herself.

A fist clenched beneath the workbench and invisible to those soft red eyes slowly rolled outwards, leather making slight noises of strain as the man released a sigh and listened intently to his would-be companion and partner. His response... his response...

Ayden's eyebrows were arched upwards, both in true surprise. First at the sheer length of the man's spiel; the Blackskull Alchemist was known through the Amestrian military to be something of a talkative and often rather maniacal man, generally brutal and of a takes-no-prisoners discipline in even common conversation, but this was another thing entirely.

And then... there was the content. At first this Ito had just been a plaything, someone to manipulate... but his views were radical. Not bad, just... very... unorthodox. One he'd not really heard before. Science and weaponry were one and the same. Power lied in both in equal amounts; one required the other. And it had truth to it! A hell of a lot. This man was obviously far more... far more impressive than Ayden had initially given him credit for.

Even the automail. And the gory little insight into his history; or, at least, that's what Ayden presumed it was, from analysis and the way things had gone. "It also depends on who has the Alchemy. The weapon, you might say, is the Alchemy itself. The ability to implant one's will onto reality itself, only giving heed to what starting material you have. Take for example... a serial killer, one with a machete, sharpened to an atomic point with Alchemy. It could cut through anything--the heat that you feel when steel slices through flesh and blood is disconcerting, at best. However, when you feel it slice through bone--the thing that keeps your entire body intact--it is even stranger. So much so that... you could almost be stuck in shock. I don't think I'd ever get used to that feeling." The automail was impressive work. Seemed fully functional... although, prosthetics these days were close to perfection, to be honest, so that shouldn't surprise him, but it always did. Ayden knew he wouldn't be able to live with automail. Trusting too much to a machine... a machine which can bend and break at any moment. Had he really been assaulted by a serial killer? Heh. Best Ayden didn't reveal his occupation any time soon, then. He presumed a debacle like that left some scars... well, so to speak, at least. Another glance at the arm, and then it was gone; hidden away once more, a part of Dai's body no longer on supposed display. Ayden didn't stare any more; it would be rude to, he'd concluded.

His demonstrations were on-par and related; effective, even. This man truly knew how to entrance an audience, and in his prior boredom, Ayden had subconsciously been snared. But for a moment, but... truly, truly... this man was someone worth talking to. A worthwhile companion in the future no doubt; a teammate invaluable when it came to the field of development.

"Please, continue on. I may have something to show you, if you play your cards correctly. I rarely let people within my own private workshop, but... you never know."

Now... it came his turn to laugh.

It began as a stare. Then his mouth opened, and as he shook his head, long silver hair swaying in arcs from side to side, and he let a chuckle escape. It felt giddy, rigid, irregular, almost unreal at first, but, soon, the flow clicked, and Ayden threw his head back and burst into the loudest fit of hysterics he'd experienced in weeks, even beyond that of the last few assassinations. This was brilliant. He rose his hands and clapped them together. Only sound erupted from his mouth, and he stuck a wayward finger in Dai's direction.

Quickly, however, the laughing finished up and soon only spurting remnants remained. Ayden clapped his hands and nodded once more, leather against leather, flesh against flesh. "You know, Dai, initially, I may have been wrong in my first impressions of you," He sighed, and his hands fell on the collar of his jacket, flicking it up and fastening around it. "But... but... that was brilliant! Truly excellent! Bravo, my good man. One of the best explanations and most thought-out viewpoints on the matter of alchemy I've heard in years. And your demonstration... simply, truly, absolutely brilliant." Repetition. It was true. No word of a lie had crossed the man's lips.

The jacket flew off in an instant, sweeping dust from the table, until Ayden grasped it by the cuff and threw it towards the pegs; the shape hooked around one and it swayed for a few moments, before staying hung against.

Beneath was only a vest. Reinforced with plates of kevlar and carbon-fiber-reinforced polymer structures. Strapped to it were bandoliers previously only partially visible; then, the weapons. Oh, the weapons. Hanging at his back were two tanto. Two revolvers in crossing gunbelts at his hip; over one shoulder a harpoon pistol. Two Brugger and Thomet Amestrian MP9 machine pistols, stockless and buttless, crossed over each other and strapped to the back of the vest. Two three-slot pouches of throwing knives, and two three-slot pouches filled with phials each filled with crimson liquid. But the first he removed were two pistols at his ankles; each was unloaded, and the slides pulled back so to release a live held round from each. Set symmetrically along the workbench were two M1911s, each inlayed with a smiling cartoon face; one with a blue tear, and the other a crimson droplet of blood.

Ayden rose his hands into the air symmetrically, as if to say 'et voila'. To announce that he was finally... done. "This, my friend, is the reason I ask," A grin. He let his arms fall down at his sides with a clap; now bare, the alchemical arrays twining down his forearms more than visible. Right hand went to the left and grasped the fingertips, pulling from it a black leather-clad glove; a transmutation circle on the index and middle finger pads, and the palm of the hand itself. The left to the right and removing the other glove, revealing the same, except a slightly changed transmutation circle. Now... his arsenal was on full display. "I'm a man of weaponry and science, like you. I'm an alchemist and a warrior, like you. I have the utmost faith in gunpowder and peroxides..." A final grin as Ayden forced his head in further towards the arms developer's. "Just... like... you." Each word carried with it gravity and emphasis so far not yet experienced by the current conversation.

He set the gloves, harpoon pistol, and crossbow upon the table, making sure that the weapons strapped to him were static. They couldn't move and get in his way. He'd said that he could blow a hole in Briggs itself given enough time; Ayden smirked. That was cute. Showed the man knew his stuff when it came to alchemy... but...

After all... he had a little more faith in his abilities than that.

"I've more weapons in my bag over there," An idle gesture to the surprisingly heavy black sports bag sitting by Ayden's previous seat. "So I'm guessing you can see that I'm something of a weapons enthusiast, eh?" Another sharp chuckle, but Ayden stopped off quickly; his throat was somewhat... hoarse. From his earlier barrage of laughter at least.

The man giggled and attempted to contain his hysterics as he oh-so-carefully lifted an engraved glass phial from the bandolier on his chest. Slowly, slowly, slowly, he rose it by the glass screw-top at the very end, and like a crane, lowered it and gently dropped it to the table. Activating the alchemy again - he'd done it before, it wasn't pretty - wouldn't be a great way to break the ice. The deep crimson liquid sloshed up and down within, only a small volume empty enough to to allow air to flow through; some had been freed up by consistent condensation and evaporation considering Ayden's various moving through climates as his occupation called. This was his favourite part.

"So, Dai," He jerked a hand idly to the phial after releasing it. "For ten points, can you tell me what's inside the phial?" He really had to refrain himself from giggling this time. Oh, the tension was getting so high, just increasing and increasing! He was giddy with anticipation! Almost manic! Perhaps... perhaps... perhaps...

INSANE.

Laughter. Laughter was a strange device, one that brought either fear of man or love of life into the hearts of others. For Daigoro Ito, laughter was but a tool to show amusement--either way did not matter, for he was not trying to effect others. He was simply showing that he was, in a lot of ways, amused. This man, on the other hand, laughed on a regular basis, and in much a different way. Unlike Daigoro, this man was attempting to affect his mind in some way--though it was certainly not working, Daigoro did realize that it had the potential to be dangerous, given enough time. "You know, Dai, initially, I may have been wrong in my first impressions of you," The laughter stopped--Dai smirked. Oh? "But... but... that was brilliant! Truly excellent!" O-oh? So, this man felt that was, did he? Smiling curtly, Dai watched with a slight smirk on his lips. "Bravo, my good man. One of the best explanations and most thought-out viewpoints on the matter of alchemy I've heard in years. And your demonstration... simply, truly, absolutely brilliant." Hm. He was trying to feed Dai's ego by speaking words over and over again--words of praise that were poison to lesser men, simply fell into a confirming nod from the redheaded Arms Developer. If that was what Ayden Derocha believed, then Daigoro Ito would not take that illusion away. In fact, it would be more amusing to... allow it to continue.

A single sweeping motion, and Ayden had removed the coat, throwing it onto pegs that sat at a distance. So, Ayden was a 'wielder', not a 'maker'. This made it much more obvious. Bandoliers criss-crossed his chest. A vest of the strongest kevlar protected the man's body from harm with its silent shielding. Two tanto over his back. Two revolvers at his hip. A harpoon gun. Two machine pistols--looked like Brugger and Thomet brand. Throwing knives. And then, two more pistols were lain before him, shown bare to the world. Two cartoon faces upon them. Hm. Chuckling quietly, Daigoro decided to do the same--producing a bo staff, strapped to his side. Two tonfa, hooked to his back, and two long and thin pistols, ones that were obviously not designed for firing conventional rounds in combat. "This, my friend, is the reason I ask," Hm. The arms were dropped, and alchemic arrays were shown. Alchemy, Alkahestry. "I'm a man of weaponry and science, like you. I'm an alchemist and a warrior, like you." That last bit hit it where it wasn't meant to. "I have the utmost faith in gunpowder and peroxides..." He'd already guessed what was about to be said. "Just... like... you."

Right now, Daigoro Ito felt like laughing a little. He wasn't sure why, but that man's spiel amused him. Though he would not go into personal specifics, he would simply watch and take great care in checking out what would happen. More weapons were placed upon the heavily-scratched and dented table. "I've more weapons in my bag over there," As expected. "So I'm guessing you can see that I'm something of a weapons enthusiast, eh?" This man was, most certainly, hysterical--crazy--but Dai... didn't care that much; he would instead watch with interested eyes as the man produced a vial of something. It was crimson, and by the viscosity? He had already discerned the contents of the phial without hesitation. Reila wouldn't like it--blood. He started moving it without touching the phial itself. There was no doubt--that was Alchemy. "So, Dai," The voice shattered Dai's watching of the liquid. [i]"For ten points, can you tell me what's inside the phial?" He laughed. He didn't know why he laughed, but a quiet chuckle slowly turned into something more tangible as laughter. "For ten points, you say?"

The smirk on his face turned slightly cold, but a grin grew from within its depths at the same time. Reaching down, Daigoro touched the cold phial with a careful finger, slowly gripping it in his gloved left hand and raising it up to stare into its contents. He was making an 'evaluation', though he already knew. Another soft laugh, and Dai looked up at Ayden past the phial itself. "My friend, the moment you produced such a liquid, I had already discerned the content. Did you know? About 70% of the body's mass is made up of this liquid. And the red color... is given by the haemogoblin, which is very iron-rich." Placing it back onto the table, the man stepped backwards from the wood and clicked the fingers in his left hand a single time, a blueish light spreading out. He reached out, touched the phial and pulled away as his Alchemy did its work. For a single second, the liquid in the phial glowed brightly, before expanding out quickly as everything within it was split apart with the iron at its roots. Without even a single warning, the phial itself exploded, sending a fine red mist into the air. "Blood. One of the most dangerous things in the human body. Though I lack the general manipulation, I find that I can do a lot of things anyway. Such is the way when you deal with ions, magnetism, and even more..." Laughing quietly, he turned away and started to walk, beckoning for Ayden to follow.

"I must say, though. You are wrong at some points. You and I, we are not the same. You wield for the sake of destruction, I create for the sake of defending. I am a 'maker', you are a 'wielder'. Those are... completely different." The soft laughter died away, and Daigoro led Ayden into the armory, picking up a certain pistol off of a rack and raising it in front of him. The trigger was pulled, and a false wall fell away, revealing a rather large compartment behind it. "Welcome... to my humble workshop." Stepping in, he was immediately recognized and the lights came on without warning. "Register: Ayden Derocha, Briggs. New Guest." A small hum sounded out, and Dai nodded--Ayden's presence was now allowed. Standing before him was a large cannon, the Gae Bolg--an Alchemic Weapon that he had finished, yet never properly tested. A prototype rail-cannon, designed to fire projectiles that a railgun never could. However, that was not his target right now. Instead, he reached down and produced a small magazine, sliding one of the rounds out and showing it to Ayden. It was the magazine of a 12-gauge shotgun--a brutal weapon on its own. However, what Daigoro showed Ayden was in fact the transmutation circle on the very front of the round. "Normally, shotguns are designed to rip apart. This one isn't--it's something that stays together until I say so." Replacing the round, a magazine-based, single-barrel, pump-action shotgun was produced--it seemed to be a modified version of the SPAS-12.

"My Alchemy, as I stated before, lies within the manipulation of particle polarity, whether metallic or not. I tend to state 'magnetism', but I generally have manipulation over most. This can go from atomic... to subatomic." Aiming down the sights, Daigoro placed a hand onto the pump designed to cock the weapon, and activated the Alchemy within. "Did you know that, despite everything, anti-matter is just normal matter? The only difference is that the polarity of the electrons and protons are completely switched, allowing for it to... be quite readily made." He chuckled softly as, after about fifteen seconds, the Alchemy activated itself. Due to how he developed the rounds, friction kept a small magnetic stasis field running, so a sudden stop would properly activate it. Cocking back, the first round was loaded. Without hesitating, a round was fired, and an earth-shattering crack resounded throughout the room. This place was mostly sound-proofed, but a noise would still come out. People that walked past just got used to it. The round was fired cleanly, and flew straight for the designated target. It collided with the wooden dummy, but something else happened.

Instead of penetrating straight through, a bright light flashed out, Dai raising an arm up to shield himself from it. He'd used approximately a half-gram of matter in this conversion, giving the resulting explosion--known as an annihilation reaction--the force of one-and-a-half normal hand-grenades. It took him fifteen seconds to create half a gram. It wasn't the best for battle, but if he could keep someone off of him for that time, it would be effective both in close-combat and long-distance--though the best use would be for a sniper rifle. Now, when one looked at the dummy, they would think to see pieces there. That was a lie. Everything within the radius of the explosion was gone. It no longer existed. It had been, for lack of a better term, cancelled out by the antimatter itself. "My Alchemy, as it stands, is exceptionally versatile. As such, I dedicate a portion of my weapons research and development into creating that which can accommodate me. That is... my latest creation." Looking over, he motioned to the small crater in the wall created by a two foot radius of annihilation. "That said, I am generally willing to assist with development for other sects of Briggs as well." He chuckled quietly, looking over at the man with dark eyes.

"I must say, though. You are wrong at some points. You and I, we are not the same. You wield for the sake of destruction, I create for the sake of defending. I am a 'maker', you are a 'wielder'. Those are... completely different." Ayden's ears pricked and he let a soft chuckle escape, making grandiose hand movements as the chuckle peaked and faded in a matter of moment. Nodding the man correct in response to the question of blood, he continued.

"Oh, indeed, indeed, you are a constructor, a creator; but in the end, I am simply a catalyst to the reaction, as you can surely understand. I'm a middleman; the end result is always the same..." He cocked his head forwards and spoke in a whisper, maniacal grin carving the assassin's face in two, tall white teeth glistening in the light. "Destruction."

Together, they could be married in the field; destroyer and creator, working together to eliminate, divide and develop, and help increase Briggs' efficiency tenfold. With his newfound position, Ayden would too take up the mantle of a creator; but, as opposed to Daigoro, his position, his stance... would always be somewhat corrupted, hold the ideals of selfishness within them, cradled like a newborn baby. An essential to his fragmented, multi-faceted, corrupt personality.

They quickly moved into the workshop and armoury, where Dai all-too-quickly brandished a shotgun, and began some spiel about the weapon's power. The demonstration was none-too-shabby, either; it was as if the round, beneath the grasp of his glowing, crackling alchemical discharge, was catalysed to a point that not even most conventional hand-held explosives could reach. Ayden was almost put into alert, his arms straining as the shot rang out, but the entire demonstration nonetheless very impressive.

Phial still clutched between his fingers, the man mused but for a moment, wondering if this was exactly what Daigoro had wanted to show him. Incredible, but not beyond it. "My Alchemy, as it stands, is exceptionally versatile. As such, I dedicate a portion of my weapons research and development into creating that which can accommodate me. That is... my latest creation. That said, I am generally willing to assist with development for other sects of Briggs as well." Ayden grinned, too. A level that he'd long-known the pair could connect on; the appearance of the SPAS, such a fine, combat-oriented beast of a weapon, was not forged of chance at all. Ah well; a response was overdue. Ayden nodded humbly and began to clap, accompanying the untraceable sarcastic motions with speech.

"Impressive. Beyond it, even; and, aye, it assists you in your very own processes, versatility in development and its own way... such as mine does, also," A smile, before the assassin cocked his head and continued. "I'm too guilty of being a creator; I enjoy innovation, invention, tweaking... but I bring to life somewhat less... physical figures and ideas." He let a leather-tipped hand trace around the table, skirting around it, the smell of charred rubble hanging strong in the air, as Ayden readied himself, tracing a fingertip over the subtle engravings of the glass cylinder.

"Dai, you've already cut out a lot of my spiel and railing..." Immediately, he spun, free of the weaponry, now fluid, smooth, and as visually and aesthetically ideal as he could be, bearing only the vest, bare arms flexing in tandem with neck, muscles working in unison, having shed every ounce of excess weight and fat. Ayden Derocha kept himself in peak condition doing the thing he loved the most, indeed - killing. "And for that, you should thank any god you might believe in... I was prepared to go full-out just a moment ago, but you were utterly and completely correct." A deep, dark chuckle as the man, silver locks of hair shimmering and glinting in the light as he edged up to another range, one unscathed by the almost perfectly-carved antimatter crater's radius.

"However, let me summarise..." He murmured, blue sparks crackling about his fingertips. Alchemy. It was preparing, waiting, a crouched beast, a snarling cougar, ready to pounce and leap at a moment's notice. "As you said, 70% of the human biological system is blood. But do you know just how much energy even a minute area of the human body contains?" The answer was so unbelievable; it blew most away without advanced knowledge of applied or theoretical biology.

"Millions of joules. Enough to level cities in just the make-up of three, four people. Infact, if every last speck of the human body was harnessed to make a bomb, it'd far outrank that Drachman Tsar 2 bomb, without a doubt..." Arms flexed; biceps tensed, contracted, and then, a moment later... relaxed. "Blood itself also contains hydrogen. Now, if you'd simply but two and two together, you'd more than be able to conclude just what my alchemy, or, at least, this branch, does..."

With that, the dimly-lit room became illuminated with cerulean energy, sparks flashing against the man's wide irises as he cackled madly. It shimmered, running up and down the phial, concentrated about it, as, ever-so-quickly, it began to heat up, and bubble, after even just a second. In a single motion, Ayden raised his arm, and sent the projectile launching at the most opportune of moments; the phial headed towards the wall at a breakneck speed, looking as if it would smash, but before it could even make contact, for the third time in minutes, the room was shaken by another devastating explosion.

Erupting in fire for but an instant, this in particular was nowhere near as clean as the antimatter grenade - but just as impressive. The wreathes, licks, and curling tendrils of flame dissipated in but a second, but shards of half-molten, razor-thin glass had been shot as shrapnel about the range. Ayden's ears were ringing from the cacophony this third explosion has created, even if it did lack in the stunningly beautiful display that Dai's alchemy could create.

Ayden heard fallen researchers collect themselves and rise to their feet outside as he too extended his entire form, shaking down his body, freeing it of dust and debris loosed from the messy explosion, which had possessed pretty much the same radius as the antimatter grenade itself, with arguable fluctuations on power - the two were incomparable due to the way the reactions operated.

Beaming, the silver-haired man turned to Dai, and giggled maniacally, clasping his bare hands together. "Good, no?!"

"Impressive." His gaze slowly turned towards the man of name Ayden, taking in his appearance with a minute glint in the eyes. "Beyond it, even; and, aye, it assists you in your very own processes, versatility in development and its own way... such as mine does, also," This man was strange, to Daigoro Ito at least. He couldn't understand why such a thing would occur in his mind, but he shook it off and ignored the feeling that he was getting; for now, he would hope for the best--that it was just a feeling. Clucking his tongue quietly, the red-headed man tapped his foot on the ground as Ayden continued his own spiel. "I'm too guilty of being a creator; I enjoy innovation, invention, tweaking... but I bring to life somewhat less... physical figures and ideas." So, if that were to be true... then Ayden was speaking that he was more of a dreamer, not a creator. An interesting ideal, but strange nevertheless. Daigoro did not quite understand why he was thinking this to be strange, though it was certainly something to consider as time went on. His eyes slowly followed Ayden as he moved, partly-listening, partly-ignoring his speech.

"As you said, 70% of the human biological system is blood. But do you know just how much energy even a minute area of the human body contains?" That, he didn't know. In fact, he wouldn't know, nor was he trained to know; his Alchemy suited adding energy, not using what was already there. "Millions of joules." His face twitched a slight amount. Millions? "Enough to level cities in just the make-up of three, four people. Infact, if every last speck of the human body was harnessed to make a bomb, it'd far outrank that Drachman Tsar 2 bomb, without a doubt..." That would be bad. Bad-bad-bad. Very bad indeed. Daigoro, however, retained a straight face. He needed to; if he didn't, then this person would've won irrevocably. "Blood itself also contains hydrogen. Now, if you'd simply but two and two together, you'd more than be able to conclude just what my alchemy, or, at least, this branch, does..." No need to even make a stupid guess. Clucking his tongue against his lips, the man shook his head slowly. The explosion was quick, powerful, brutish. There was their difference. Ayden Derocha was a brute that specialized in killing people. Daigoro Ito was an artist who specialized in protecting others. Turning away now, he proceeded to show Ayden a few of his other creations...

--

Not too long after, the man left the office, Daigoro looking out of his snowed-over window with a slight look of confusion on his face. Ayden had showed quite a lot of interest in the workings of his armory; Daigoro had obliged, of course. But now that he had left... "Ayden Derocha..." A file sat on the desk behind him--Daigoro had flipped through all of the pages, looking for what he needed to find. "The assassinations which can be tied to him can all be found within a very short period. It's almost like they don't exist--a man has never been brought to justice. Simultaneously, he was hopping from one war zone to the next. Every time, it was when the battles were at their fiercest." Tapping his chin with metallic fingers, the man shook his head slowly. "It's as if he travelled the world, seeking his own destruction. But that wasn't the man I saw today. Did he change? He looks to be someone who enjoys death, who enjoys killing..." The metallic hand went from the chin to the window, making soft tapping noises against it. "It's almost as if... hm. It's almost as if something snapped inside of him, as if he is completely insane." Closing his eyes and looking down slightly, the red snapped open and looked as far out into the distance as humanly possible. Speaking to nobody, the man shook his head and quietly spoke out. "It's almost like he's had a passion for nothing his entire life, nothing but death and bloodshed. He doesn't believe in anyone or anything. I have to wonder... what is he after? He sighed softly. "Reila..."

"The way that Ayden Derocha lives terrifies me."