Into the Hangar - Traverse Town [Open to Ed]
The hangar was right where the two new, (and incidentally blond), acquaintances had said it would be, and it was only after a few seconds of walking towards it that Hughes realized he had forgotten to ask for their names. He sighed a little and rubbed his temple at his own tired (and cold and wet) mental state that would allow him to neglect getting such important information. On the bright side, the man had been acting more and more angered towards him, (for what reason, Hughes could only guess), so the investigator supposed he hadn't seemed as pushy as he might have been otherwise. Maybe.
(As if shoving family photos in someone's face wasn't pushy enough.)
In any case, Hughes was a little curious about this "hangar" business, having never heard the word in wide use before. Sure, he'd read some fiction novels back in his school days that had spoken of airships soaring through the skies, but in Amestris, the technology had not yet advanced enough for those stories to become a reality.
Given the supposed likelihood that his world was destroyed, it might never happen.
Hughes tried to purge such negative thoughts from his mind and replace them with the meager doubts he still had that this might all be some screwed-up nightmare, or even a gas-induced delusion. Who knew what kinds of bizarre secretions those 'Heartless' creatures gave off, anyway?
Therein lied the problem of seeing Ed. On one hand, a familiar--albeit endearingly cranky--face was the best thing Hughes could hope to see, but on the other hand, it was the last thing he needed.
The investigator took a step into the large warehouse-esque facility, wondering if there were any spare jumpsuits he could get into while he let his uniform out to dry. Although his thoughts and worries had been occupying him all the while, it was hard to fully get out of one's mind the feeling of wet cloth between skin and the freezing chill of winter.
"H-hello?" Hughes called out into the wide space with a slight chatter. His home, his family, his friends--hell, even poor Sheska and all the other people at HQ... If the investigator couldn't find this one person, at least, he'd be straight on the way to a mental breakdown.
"Ed?"
(As if shoving family photos in someone's face wasn't pushy enough.)
In any case, Hughes was a little curious about this "hangar" business, having never heard the word in wide use before. Sure, he'd read some fiction novels back in his school days that had spoken of airships soaring through the skies, but in Amestris, the technology had not yet advanced enough for those stories to become a reality.
Given the supposed likelihood that his world was destroyed, it might never happen.
Hughes tried to purge such negative thoughts from his mind and replace them with the meager doubts he still had that this might all be some screwed-up nightmare, or even a gas-induced delusion. Who knew what kinds of bizarre secretions those 'Heartless' creatures gave off, anyway?
Therein lied the problem of seeing Ed. On one hand, a familiar--albeit endearingly cranky--face was the best thing Hughes could hope to see, but on the other hand, it was the last thing he needed.
The investigator took a step into the large warehouse-esque facility, wondering if there were any spare jumpsuits he could get into while he let his uniform out to dry. Although his thoughts and worries had been occupying him all the while, it was hard to fully get out of one's mind the feeling of wet cloth between skin and the freezing chill of winter.
"H-hello?" Hughes called out into the wide space with a slight chatter. His home, his family, his friends--hell, even poor Sheska and all the other people at HQ... If the investigator couldn't find this one person, at least, he'd be straight on the way to a mental breakdown.
"Ed?"