The Forked Road- Bound
Title: Bound
Arc: The Forked Road
Rating: PG
Characters: Roy and Kimbley
Note: It seems that these two are my loudest muses just at the moment.
Choices
Marked
It was over. Standing at the top of the hill, eyes peering over the beauty of destruction, it became clear that there was simply nothing else left. Oh he knew there were stragglers, rebels that had gotten away children or pregnant women, but he couldn’t honestly say he cared. The military would hunt them down, and they would perish just like the rest of their religion-centered race.
Religion was a wholly useless thing anyway and it deserved to be dealt with like this, the people shown how utterly stupid the whole idea was. He knew that not everyone would agree, but he hardly cared what anyone else thought anyway. He terrified the troops, and it was better like that, with his plans going well and Flame acting as a buffer between him and the idiot bureaucrats that had descended with the close of this ‘war’.
He’d heard about the Crystal Alchemist’s defection a few weeks prior, and he’d found irony in the fact that the man had taken their backup supply of weapons with him. Really, that was the reason why the battle came to a close, not anything that concerned the political or the social. It was just a simple lack of the proper ammunition. Mustang had been with him when the cease-fire was called, and he’d nearly laughed over the relief on the idiot man’s face.
It was amusing, the fact that the fire wielding man actually thought he had some kind of hold on him. He didn’t, but it suited them both for him to believe it was so. It had kept him away from the tents when Marco had fled, some lowly sniper, Hawkeye, being charged on grounds of aided desertion. At least dealing with him had kept Gran from sending his pet to deal with the doctors. It would have been just the kind of thing the man would have done too, considering how much he hated any kind of innate ability that his fellow alchemists might show.
No, instead Flame had been with him, just as he had been since the night his arrays had made themselves a permanent part of his flesh. Smiling to himself, he reached out, running a fingertip along the side of the small alchemist’s neck, resting the array against his nape.
“Tell me, does it make you happy we’re soon going to be home again?”
The man tensed, was always so tense when he used that tone of voice, but he didn’t mind. Eventually the man would relax, would get used to the idea that the military would not separate them after his display of near insanity on the field. There was no reason to break the news to him just yet. Still, he did want an answer, and the silence that met his question was simply an inadequate substitute.
Sliding around behind the still figure, he rested his other hand on his shoulder, an amused smirk crossing his face. “Well?”
“I’d hardly call anywhere where you are home Kimbley.” The words were almost as low as his had been, and it made him smile to hear the sharp tone.
“I guess you’ll never be able to call anywhere home then hm?” He rested his hands lightly on the man’s shoulders, voice dipping down into a whisper. “Didn’t you know we’re going to Central together? It’s going to be terribly interesting, don’t you think?”
A beautifully angry, frightened glare was the perfect reply to his inquiry, and he let the man go when he ducked away. Better to let the little kitten ask his questions and seal the deal all by his lonesome.
There was really no need to tell him he’d been lying when he was certain his prediction was about to come true.
Arc: The Forked Road
Rating: PG
Characters: Roy and Kimbley
Note: It seems that these two are my loudest muses just at the moment.
Choices
Marked
It was over. Standing at the top of the hill, eyes peering over the beauty of destruction, it became clear that there was simply nothing else left. Oh he knew there were stragglers, rebels that had gotten away children or pregnant women, but he couldn’t honestly say he cared. The military would hunt them down, and they would perish just like the rest of their religion-centered race.
Religion was a wholly useless thing anyway and it deserved to be dealt with like this, the people shown how utterly stupid the whole idea was. He knew that not everyone would agree, but he hardly cared what anyone else thought anyway. He terrified the troops, and it was better like that, with his plans going well and Flame acting as a buffer between him and the idiot bureaucrats that had descended with the close of this ‘war’.
He’d heard about the Crystal Alchemist’s defection a few weeks prior, and he’d found irony in the fact that the man had taken their backup supply of weapons with him. Really, that was the reason why the battle came to a close, not anything that concerned the political or the social. It was just a simple lack of the proper ammunition. Mustang had been with him when the cease-fire was called, and he’d nearly laughed over the relief on the idiot man’s face.
It was amusing, the fact that the fire wielding man actually thought he had some kind of hold on him. He didn’t, but it suited them both for him to believe it was so. It had kept him away from the tents when Marco had fled, some lowly sniper, Hawkeye, being charged on grounds of aided desertion. At least dealing with him had kept Gran from sending his pet to deal with the doctors. It would have been just the kind of thing the man would have done too, considering how much he hated any kind of innate ability that his fellow alchemists might show.
No, instead Flame had been with him, just as he had been since the night his arrays had made themselves a permanent part of his flesh. Smiling to himself, he reached out, running a fingertip along the side of the small alchemist’s neck, resting the array against his nape.
“Tell me, does it make you happy we’re soon going to be home again?”
The man tensed, was always so tense when he used that tone of voice, but he didn’t mind. Eventually the man would relax, would get used to the idea that the military would not separate them after his display of near insanity on the field. There was no reason to break the news to him just yet. Still, he did want an answer, and the silence that met his question was simply an inadequate substitute.
Sliding around behind the still figure, he rested his other hand on his shoulder, an amused smirk crossing his face. “Well?”
“I’d hardly call anywhere where you are home Kimbley.” The words were almost as low as his had been, and it made him smile to hear the sharp tone.
“I guess you’ll never be able to call anywhere home then hm?” He rested his hands lightly on the man’s shoulders, voice dipping down into a whisper. “Didn’t you know we’re going to Central together? It’s going to be terribly interesting, don’t you think?”
A beautifully angry, frightened glare was the perfect reply to his inquiry, and he let the man go when he ducked away. Better to let the little kitten ask his questions and seal the deal all by his lonesome.
There was really no need to tell him he’d been lying when he was certain his prediction was about to come true.