And just when you thought you were safe. [Closed]
Who: Roy Mustang, Edward Elric, Riza Hawkeye and Black Hayate
What: Roy's finally stepping out into the city to take a look at things for himself. Unfortunately, people he had been hoping to never see again were of a similar mindset to his.
Where: One of the gardens in the city.
When: Day time, one day after Roy's arrival or so.
Warnings: Uuuuh.
After the strangeness of his very first night (not being able to speak and communicating to people with one's mind was just a little out of his depth), Roy had resolved to be up with the sunrise and head out for some overdue exploration of the city he was apparently trapped in. Suffice to say, the alchemist had his notebook out at every turn, taking things down, observing everything.
Sometime before noon, Roy had stopped for a break at the nearest bench. He needed a cigarette; how did one go about getting those here? Could he just... think them up? That would be kind of interesting.
All of that was unimportant, though, and he knew it. What was he doing here, really? What was going on? Could things just go on the way they were for him now, the way it seemed to for anyone who had been here longer than he have? Would he ever get home?
Barring that, was home even important now?
Horrible habit, that thing called thinking. He leaned back and tried not to sigh.
What: Roy's finally stepping out into the city to take a look at things for himself. Unfortunately, people he had been hoping to never see again were of a similar mindset to his.
Where: One of the gardens in the city.
When: Day time, one day after Roy's arrival or so.
Warnings: Uuuuh.
After the strangeness of his very first night (not being able to speak and communicating to people with one's mind was just a little out of his depth), Roy had resolved to be up with the sunrise and head out for some overdue exploration of the city he was apparently trapped in. Suffice to say, the alchemist had his notebook out at every turn, taking things down, observing everything.
Sometime before noon, Roy had stopped for a break at the nearest bench. He needed a cigarette; how did one go about getting those here? Could he just... think them up? That would be kind of interesting.
All of that was unimportant, though, and he knew it. What was he doing here, really? What was going on? Could things just go on the way they were for him now, the way it seemed to for anyone who had been here longer than he have? Would he ever get home?
Barring that, was home even important now?
Horrible habit, that thing called thinking. He leaned back and tried not to sigh.