Day 33: Greenhouse (Men)

[blood_and_pocky]

[About to make a new fan friend.]By the time Aidou arrived at the greenhouse, he was once again immersed in his own thoughts. Idle talk with Anise was over. Where the hell was Kyon? Nurses usually gave the excuse of “they’re sick” or “they’re sleeping,” which were no doubt lies, but given out during the instances where prisoners actually came back

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[crimson_handed]

((Waiting for Roy. Ohohoho.))

Goddamn, he was bored. All of the second shift he'd just lounged by the doors, waiting to get back inside; lunch had hardly been interesting, either. He'd been trying to look for Roy for reasons even he wasn't entirely clear about. But hey, it never hurt to hunt down an old friend and torment the hell out of them.

So now Kimbley was back in the greenhouse, the place he'd first met Mustang in this godforsaken asylum, staring at the collection of plants in pots. Some of them had to be at least a little poisonous. Even poison ivy would do at this point. Enough of it could provide a fairly noxious mixture, or a severe skin irritant. But this place was well-kept, and who in their right mind grew poison ivy for fun? Damn.

[muted_flame]

[ From here. ]

Honestly, Roy didn't know why he hadn't just opted to stay in the Sun Room. The only real reason to actually go and participate in the activities was that it was what most of the patients did, so he had a better chance of coming across someone he needed to talk to. Of course, that also meant he had a better chance of running into someone he didn't want to talk to.

The various plant life was intriguing enough, though he had no interest in getting dirty. They got so few showers as it was. He knew that some alchemists had a knack for manipulating plants, like those Tringham brothers, but it wasn't something he had practiced at very much. He more often burned the plants.

Speaking of destructive tendencies and people he didn't want to talk to, it looked like Kimbley was present. The greenhouse still wasn't very crowded, so Roy wasn't sure what his chances of avoiding the man was. He tried to move to another part of the area and hoped that the various plants would keep him hidden.

[crimson_handed]

As if Roy would get away unscathed. Kimbley caught sight of the man as he was trying to hide behind the plants and grinned, his bored and irritated mood lifting just slightly. He sauntered over to Roy casually, as if he was perusing the plants on his way.

"Nice to see you too, Mustang," he said as soon as he was within hearing range. "Trying to avoid me in this kind of empty room? That's not friendly at all." Kimbley stayed just out of range of either attack or reach, planning to move closer when the time was right and he made sure nobody was watching. "It's almost like you don't want to talk to me."

[muted_flame]

Well, that failed miserably, not that Roy had been expecting anything else. Not bothering to hold back a sigh, the colonel turned around to face the other alchemist, not minding that there was a good amount of distance between them. In fact, it was much better that way.

"That's because I don't," he responded, sending the man a winning smile. He hadn't seen Kimbley since their trip to the basement together, which made him wonder what the man had been up to since then. He had heard of the fight he had gotten into, but more important was finding out if the man was scheming. Chances were that he was, though Roy didn't imagine he could do too much damage here, considering how crippled their powers were. Then again, he didn't want to underestimate Kimbley, either. Murder was like a drug for the man, so chances were he would find a way.

"What have you been doing with yourself?" he asked, tilting his head up slightly as he looked Kimbley over. "Other than skulking around, that is."

[crimson_handed]

"Not enough, unfortunately," Kimbley said offhandedly, making his way closer to Roy under the guise of examining a plant that was just out of comfortable reach. "Aside from fighting off assassins sent by inhuman freaks, I've mostly just been collecting materials." He smirked, not watching Roy but instead the plant beneath his fingers. "There's a girl here who's been more than helpful in that regard

[muted_flame]

There was no mistaking what Kimbley meant, especially when he got downright blunt about it by mentioning a chemical lab. Roy had to admit that his first reaction to that was interest (where was it?), but that was quickly followed by the knowledge that Kimbley and chemicals spelled out bad news.

On one hand, explosives could be helpful in this place, such as for blowing up walls or even the floor, but he knew that the Crimson Alchemist wouldn't be using them for that. Or if he did, he would make certain that some patients got caught in the blast as well

[crimson_handed]

It might have worked under other circumstances, but at the base level, Kimbley was pure human, no alchemy involved. Long before he'd gotten his tattoos, he'd memorized compositions, made bombs by hand. Alchemy was useful, yes; you didn't need to gather things, you could just grab someone and mix. But it wasn't necessary.

"I don't need to transmute." In a split second, he was close to Roy, far too close for comfort. "Come on, Roy. Not everybody's an alchemist. You don't need it to make decent explosives."

His hand - the ruined one, the broken tattoo, the hand Momo had been so decent to heal - snagged Roy's wrist as he came too close. He hadn't played any games since the shower all those days ago; he was ready to try again.

"A real shame you can't do jack without yours."

[muted_flame]

When his wrist was grasped, Roy's first instinct was to either shove the man back or sweep at his legs to knock him over. But he did neither. It wasn't going to get him anything beyond a bit of satisfaction that would be drowned out by the sedative that was coming his way. There was a chance that he would get a warning rather than being drugged right off the bat, but it wasn't worth the risk.

The fact of the matter was that he could do more than transmute now. He wasn't sporting a homunculus' eye for no reason, after all, and while he only shielded when he had to (and still wasn't very good at it), it was still a trick up his sleeve.

"So, back to blowing people up for fun? Glad to see you're doing your part," he said, tone sharp. This was a roundabout way of hopefully getting some more details on Kimbley's exact plans. He did end up laying his free hand on top of Kimbley's in order to remove the man's grip from his wrist.

[crimson_handed]

"You act like I don't have priorities." His voice was still light, still mostly conversational, but that kind of thing wasn't going to put Roy off at all, and Kimbley knew it. He kept it up anyway, in case anyone around them decided now would be a great time to listen in. "I'm not going to blow people up if they're already playing the role of the meat shield. I'm just like everybody else here - I want to get out as badly as you do, Mustang."

His grip tightened even as Roy's own hand came down on top of his, pulling Roy a little closer as he leaned in.

"But yeah, you're right. I'd still feel better if I let at least one person's insides decorate the walls. Maybe it should be you." Not likely, but why not offer the threat? "Or maybe Hughes? I don't want to get rid of you quite yet."

[muted_flame]

It was such an obvious attempt to provoke him, and yet Roy couldn't help letting it get to him. Enduring personal threats was hardly a problem, especially considering how many times he had heard the same thing from Kimbley in the past, but when Hughes was brought into the picture, that changed matters somewhat.

"You know, it hasn't been in my plans to deal with you, but if you get anywhere near him, you can be certain that will change," he said, tone low so he wouldn't be overheard, but still firm enough that Kimbley could be certain he wasn't joking. (Then again, when did he ever joke about this sort of thing?) Their closeness was actually to his advantage for once.

It was a shame, too, since Kimbley could be quite the help in getting out of here if he wasn't so single-minded -- or rather, if he wasn't so eager to kill as many people as he could in the process. Roy couldn't justify working with someone like that, but it appeared that simply ignoring him wasn't going to cut it anymore.

[crimson_handed]

Unusually, what Roy said actually irked Kimbley a little bit. He tugged on Roy's wrist, drawing him closer.

"So you think you can just ignore me?" he said, still managing to keep his tone conversational but having lost his smirk. "I suppose it's worked for you up to now, given that other people kept trying to kill me, but they're done with it. I'm going to get my hands on weapons you could never even start to find. Keep ignoring me, and there's going to be all sorts of blood on your hands."

Normally, he didn't mind being ignored; it gave him free reign to do as he liked. Coming from someone like Roy, who should have been concerned about what Kimbley was going to do next, it grated against his mind. Time to make him wary, then.

He jerked again and stepped forward, meeting Roy halfway.

"You keep posting names of your allies on the bulletin board, don't you? It can't be hard to figure out who they are. They'll go first, I think," he murmured, his words only decipherable to Roy.

[muted_flame]

Blood on his hands. As veterans of the same war, Kimbley knew how hard those words would hit. It was almost enough to make Roy flinch, but he knew better than to show the other man that it had gotten to him.

Still, he did not take threats lightly, especially when they were directed at people who he considered his responsibility. They weren't technically his subordinates, but they had chosen to work for him, and he owed them for that. He couldn't let them be put in danger due to one man's insanity.

But that was the whole point, wasn't it? He was just one man. As Kimbley drew even closer, Roy pulled his hands away from the man and then clamped them down on his shoulders, staring him in the face. "There's only one of you, Kimbley, and I can't imagine you're on the good side of many. How do you think people will react if I advertise your long, bloody history for everyone to see? Don't think you can get away with this like you did back in Ishbal. There aren't any corrupt generals here who are going to look the other way."

[crimson_handed]

Oh, good. He had Roy's attention now. Those hands clutched his shoulders and almost hurt, gripping hard through the shirt to the skin and bone. Kimbley's faint smirk reappeared, mollified now that he was no longer something to be ignored.

There was only one of him. He wasn't on anybody's good side, except possibly Momo, and she barely counted anyway. His history advertised would cause people to draw away from him, to react just as they had back in the military: fear and revulsion and a little bit of admiration. And, of course, there would be a few genuinely evil people who might take an interest in him

[muted_flame]

The touch didn't garner a punch, but Roy did lower his hands and then shove against Kimbley's chest in order to put distance between them. He didn't think that would draw too much attention from the nurses, and he could hope that the plants kept them out of sight

[crimson_handed]

"I've already met someone here willing to utilize my talents, Mustang."

Oh, sure, he hadn't talked to Richter in a while - not since the night the blind freak had tried to kill him - but he was sure there was still space for consideration.

"I don't need a corrupt general to look the other way. As soon as I have explosives in my hands, all I need to do is stay in the shadows and get where I want. If people have a key, I'll kill them and take it. If there's a door in the way, I'll blast it apart. Enemies won't stand a chance." The shove had hardly dissuaded him; Kimbley edged closer now, his eyes gleaming with hate and superiority. "Face it, Mustang. In a place like this, you can gather all the supporters you want and they won't be able to help you at all. Unless you can do something yourself, you're fucked. Either you kill me, or you deal with the consequences. There's no guarantee other people are more willing to kill than youKimbley reached out then, tried to grab Roy by the throat or the collar and drag him closer. What he would

[muted_flame]

When Kimbley grabbed for his shirt, definitely more violent this time, Roy pulled both hands up to the man's wrist to hold him off, glaring at him all the while.

Though Kimbley did have a point. With the way things were organized here, there was no saying the Crimson Alchemist could be stopped unless it was permanently. The only way he had been stopped in the first place was by being imprisoned, and considering that was already the case here, death might be the only option.

From what he had gathered, the Ishbalan had taken care of that originally, but Roy hadn't seen the man around lately, which meant he might just have to do it himself.

If he had to, he would. He didn't approve of senseless murder, but he wasn't beyond it if it was necessary. He had killed Bradley, for instance, and that had partly been due to revenge. If it meant keeping Kimbley from killing innocents, then he would do the job. "You think I don't have it in me to kill you?" he hissed.