Day 28: Bus 1

[accursed_rock]

Zelgadis was not happy, at all. Not that this was any change, but the events of the past few hours had given him more to angst about than usual. Nightshift had been dreadful: first he was attacked by a small green man and then covered in leeches, neither of which lead to warm fuzzy feelings

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[muted_flame]

It was a little odd to fall asleep at night and then actually sleep all the way to morning. Roy wasn't sure what had happened - had Greed just never made it? Or maybe night had "ended" before he had gotten there. It was a bit troublesome, but he couldn't dwell on that too long.

Still, something was going to have to be done to expedite the process at night or he would never get anything done.

Even though he was well-rested, Roy's mood took a turn for the worse when he was forced into an argyle-patterned sweater that was likely the least flattering piece of clothing he'd ever worn. The black slacks and boots that went with it weren't as bad, but he still felt like a fool as he got onto one of the buses with his muffin, his drink, and his coupons.

As for the patients already on the bus, he recognized a few -- Renji, Rukia, Reno, and Rufus. They were all in conversations, and he didn't exactly have anything to speak with them about. Therefore, Roy found an empty spot on the bus and settled down to eat. Chances were someone was going to sit with him eventually.

[crimson_handed]

Kimbley woke up with a start, just about falling out of bed in an attempt to get away from the scorpion that was no longer about to poison him. For a few brief seconds his mind contained nothing but a jumble of what the fuck and where the fuck, but he quickly recovered and gave the intercom hidden in the ceiling a dark glare.

All right, he wasn't dead. He owed Greed for that, though. (Even if he had managed to stab the fucker in the arm.) The nurses came in and to his surprise handed him a pile of clothes - oh, that's right, they were leaving the institute today. A treat never encountered in jail, especially the jail he'd been in. And the clothes weren't too offensive, either - loose pants, a decent shirt, a sweater with a hood and drawstrings ... hm. Those might have to come out so that nobody could strangle him with them. (And if he kept them, all the better for him - he could use them for his own purposes ... )

As he got on the first bus, hair pulled back again after being messed up overnight, he immediately caught sight of Roy. And then he caught sight of what Roy was wearing.

That had to be humiliating for a narcissist like Mustang, but it was probably hysterical for everybody else.

"That," Kimbley said as he swung into the seat next to Roy, "is the worst thing you've ever worn."

[muted_flame]

Roy had been eating bits of his muffin and glancing around the bus when Kimbley showed up. He had never seen something like this before, after all. From what he could tell, it was like a train but smaller, and it didn't need tracks. Quite fascinating, really... He wondered how it was even able to move.

When the other alchemist took a seat next to him, Roy had been almost certain that he would make a comment about his clothing. He sighed when he was proved right and nodded. "For once, I'm in agreement with you." At least it was keeping him warm - he really hated the cold.

Kimbley had been a lot luckier in the clothing department, and he didn't appear to be that injured, either. (His hand wasn't even bandaged, which was curious...) Not that Roy was hurt, but this more or less gave Kimbley the proverbial advantage.

He wasn't sure why he always turned it into a competition, but old habits died hard. It didn't help that their conversations were always arguments at worse and banter at best.

[crimson_handed]

"I would have thought you'd tell them point-blank you weren't going to wear something like that. Losing your willpower?" Kimbley looked into the paper bag they'd provided him and frowned at the meager contents. A muffin and ... a box? What the hell ...

Still, they were getting out of that place, even if it was only temporary, and he was sure there'd be more opportunities there. Both for food, and for ... entertainment.

"You don't look like shit for once. Didn't run into anything last night?"

[muted_flame]

"Perhaps you haven't been here long enough to realize that arguing with them is pointless," Roy responded with a sigh, turning to look out the window. That was much better than having to look Kimbley in the eye, as far as he was concerned.

He didn't understand why the other alchemist took the time to speak with him, other than to bother him. That was such a waste of time, but perhaps Kimbley thought it was worth it.

Roy probably should have given up on trying to understand a madman a long time ago.

"I didn't get the chance to," he explained, though the tightness in his tone made it obvious that he wasn't happy about that. "How about you? What do you do with your nights?" It couldn't be anything good, but it would be best to keep an eye on the bomber.

[crimson_handed]

"So far, I've managed to find someone else who wants to rip me to pieces, encountered some of those monsters you've told me so much about, and been attacked by Greed twice." And once he had managed to get the bastard off him, only to get shoved into a scorpion. "And I learned how to make an explosive that puts any homemade ones to shame." Not that he'd actually gotten his hands on any, but he had the ingredients listed in his head; there was only so long he had to wait before he could find the rest ...

Kimbley noticed that Roy was looking out the window instead of at him. Still uncomfortable after all those years. And that left eye ...

"Sounds like you had plans, though."

[muted_flame]

It sounded like Kimbley had been keeping pretty busy, and he actually filled in a blank for Roy. Had Greed been distracted from coming to meet him because he had been out for the Crimson Alchemist's blood? It was definitely possible, and the colonel got the feeling that he would need to talk to the man and make him understand that the mission first priority over his need for revenge.

That conversation would go over well, he was sure.

The mention of explosives made him more nervous than he let on. He knew better than anyone what Kimbley was capable of, and he would rather not to be witness to it again. It was better not to comment on it, though.

"Nothing too exciting," he responded, still keeping his gaze on the window. There wasn't much to look at, and he had to wonder when the bus would get moving. "Just wanted to do some looking around." He needed to figure out what doors those keys opened, but it had somehow become quite the lengthy process.

[crimson_handed]

... this was the least explosive and most boring conversation he'd had with Roy in a long time. Time to start digging in the proverbial claws.

"Just looking around? That doesn't sound like you." Kimbley reached into the bag he'd been given and pulled out the muffin. It looked edible, but not exactly appetizing. "Here I thought you'd have legions of followers by now, organized into ranks and striking out at your command. Or has your natural charisma failed you already?"

Even if that didn't get a rise out of Mustang, he still had a few ideas left in store. After all, Greed and Roy seemed to have known each other well before he got here - and that could only mean a few things.

[muted_flame]

The barb from Kimbley would have been more effective if it had been true. It was enough to get Roy to send a glance over at the man seated next to him, though, and he looked almost amused.

"You really haven't been paying attention, have you?" The Cooking group was gaining members and he wasn't exactly keeping it a secret. He had been advertising it, in fact. Then again, if the other alchemist didn't spend much time reading over the posts on the bulletin board, he could have easily missed all of it.

Either way, it was nice to pull the "I-know-something-you-don't-know" card.

[crimson_handed]

Oh, he'd read the bulletin boards - Roy was in charge of something. How many times had Kimbley been tempted to go over and make his own comments, plant the seeds of doubt in the minds of all those moralistic little idiots who pledged themselves so blindly to working in groups, trying to arm themselves and trading information ... but he'd avoided it until now.

He smirked right back at Roy, his eyes never leaving the other alchemist's face. Yes, there was something interesting about that left eye. He'd have to ask about it.

"Oh, I've been paying attention." The smirk quirked up a bit. "And despite having all those so-called allies, you clearly aren't getting much done if you've got time to linger in your room."

[muted_flame]

"I wasn't lingering," Roy said with a sigh as he closed both eyes, perhaps having subconsciously noticed the way Kimbley had been examining them. There was still no movement, but it probably took a long time to get all of the patients situated and onto the buses, especially if some of them were making foolish escape attempts.

"In any case, it's none of your business." Kimbley hadn't shown any interest in the group thus far, so he didn't see why he would now. He was likely just trying to get to him in some way or another, seeing how his verbal jabs hadn't been working thus far.

[crimson_handed]

"It might be my business." It was his business if Roy was involved with it. "What if I wanted to join one of your groups? Help the weak and useless arm themselves in a coordinated attempt to get out of here ... or is there a 'no psychopaths allowed' clause?"

(He wouldn't really be surprised if there was. Roy'd dealt with enough of them that it might be habitual for the bastard to refuse anyone with a past in enjoying death.)

"So what happened to your eye?" Kimbley switched topics like there hadn't even been an original discussion. Besides, he was curious - and if it got him killed, at least he'd go down with new knowledge.

[muted_flame]

As for Kimbley's offer to join, Roy was torn between having expected it and having figured the bomber was too far up on his high horse to even suggest it. Then again, he had certainly wanted back into the military bad enough -- maybe he just liked the security of being part of a group effort.

There wasn't much point in trying to analyze the man, however. Roy looked the other alchemist over and let out a sigh. "I can already foresee a number of ways that your 'help' could turn into a disaster. It wouldn't be right to trust you to work with others." It would be his fault if someone ended up dead because Kimbley was with them -- it wasn't a risk he was willing to take.

When his eye was mentioned, Roy was almost taken by surprise. Kimbley hadn't chosen to bring it up, and he had figured it would stay that way. He frowned and held back another sigh. "It's a long story."

[crimson_handed]

"We've got time," Kimbley said, ignoring the fact that Roy essentially blew him off on the subject of joining one of the little groups that had been built up. He didn't really want to join one, anyway, and if Roy ever let him, he'd just wind up getting someone killed or crippled for the hell of it. And then he'd have even more people after his blood.

Just like old times, hm?

Now his curiosity about Roy's eye was in full force. He wanted the story, and as the transport they were on rumbled to life - startling him a bit as he looked out the window - he knew that they had at least enough time for Roy to start. And he could always ask him later, once they were off this thing.

[muted_flame]

After having to explain what happened to him so many times already, he really didn't want to get onto that subject again - especially not with Kimbley of all people. Allowing the Crimson Alchemist any form of power was a bad idea, and information could certainly be a form of power.

The not-train started up then, and Roy stiffened slightly when he felt it vibrating beneath him. It felt different from a train ride; there was more of a steady rumble, and it made another sort of sound. All in all, the ride was smoother, but he wasn't used to it.

The colonel looked out the window again, being on the side of the bus that was facing the rock face. All in all, it wasn't that interesting, which meant that he couldn't feign distraction.

"I'll be blunt. I don't really want to get into it again, and I want to tell you even less." Kimbley appreciated the straight-forward approach, didn't he? Maybe he'd leave it alone.

Doubtful.

[crimson_handed]

Well, well. For once, Roy wasn't using his diplomatic tongue-twisters to keep Kimbley back and seething. The straightforwardness, while not necessarily unusual, was enough to give Kimbley a moment of pause, eyebrows raised; clearly, it was a sore subject. Something that really bothered Roy to the point where it might even be crucial for him not to tell Kimbley for fear of ... oh, another power struggle, maybe?

That just meant he had to get the story out one way or another. And since the polite way hadn't worked, it was time to go back to his usual tactics.

"If you say so," Kimbley said, turning away from Roy and leaning his head back against the seat, eyes closing. "I'll just get the story out of someone else." Or use deductive reasoning on his own, but where was the fun in that? Nobody would get hurt that way.