A whole hell of a lot has happened to Roy since he was last in the bar. The most notable event has, without question, been the return of Edward Elric to Amestris. For all that Roy's been trying to keep things under wraps for the sake of maintaining some sort of order and cutting down on questions, he knows from long and bitter experience that
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Comments 43
"Anything interesting?"
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Words of a tiger, the purr of a kitten, apparently -- Roy's tone is pretty indicative of the fact that he does not, in fact, mind being leaned on. Or at least this should be apparent to one who's known him for as long as Maes Hughes has; even in his "old age," Roy still has the ability to make most people who don't know when he's joking wet themselves in defense and/or terror.
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He grins.
"That is, if your eyes aren't shot by now, what with the advancement of years."
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He refuses to make any further elaboration on the pretty face comment. Like Hughes' ego needs to be any bigger!
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"Yo," Ed says, stealing Roy's book and plopping himself in the other man's lap, all in the same movement.
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"Hello, Ed. Didn't I just see you earlier? Or has senility decided to arrive ahead of schedule?"
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'Cuz then it makes it harder not to make them back!
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Still, he gives Ed a quick kiss. "But since you have refrained from such commentary, I suppose I should at least say 'thank you' for that."
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Putting on his best smile Al walks over to greet the man.
"Good evening Gen... I mean Fuhrer Mustang, I heard about your promotion and wanted to congratulate you."
Al's smile is true his, tone and stance respectful, an odd contrast to how his brother would treat Roy.
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"Alphonse." Roy smiles; the expression comes to him more easily these days, in spite of the pressures that he faces as a relatively new leader, in spite of the fact that he still has to contend with more than his share of political problems, in spite of those who would dearly like to take his country away from him. Perhaps it's because he's enjoying his new role, enjoying the fact that he's at last achieved what he set out to do so long ago and can finally make real progress toward improving the country he loves so dearly.
"I thank you, for your kind words. I had almost forgotten that you have not been in Amestris proper for some time, certainly not when I attained my current position. I've heard from Edward that you have recently returned; how has that transition suited you?"
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Al has a questioning look on his face. He wonders just how much detail his brother went into in regards to their return.
"Getting situated again is going to take a while, and I'm not wholly sure what I'm going to do, I need to find a way to make a living first."
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Roy should consider himself lucky that he's in a chair, and not the couch, because instead of a hostile glare, he gets a friendly grin as Axel slides into his favourite spot on his couch.
"Hey."
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And, because Axel offers a friendly grin instead of a hostile glare, he receives a polite nod in return.
"Hey. I do hope that I haven't taken your favourite spot?" he offers by way of greeting.
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Jennifer Walters' door to Milliways opens from a cold late autumn day in New York City, bringing with it the squall and roar of midtown traffic and a whooshing sound of cool air suddenly being assaulted by a space-time anomaly ( ... )
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If Roy is at all surprised or perplexed by the arrival of one such as Jennifer (and he is; neither green skin nor pinstripes, and certainly not the level of the technology she sports, are the norm in Amestris), he does a good job of concealing it. More and more he is becoming used to oddities, courtesy of the anomaly that is Milliways -- not to mention the changes happening around his own world.
So, rather than react with any sort of shock or irritation at Jennifer's intrusion upon his privacy, Roy simply smiles and bows as politely as he can from his seated position.
"The arrival of a lady, no matter how unanticipated," he states gallantly, "is never one that should be looked upon as an unwelcome disturbance or interruption."
Unless, of course, that lady is Riza Hawkeye bearing paperwork or an admonition to get going or fall behind, but that's another matter entirely.
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Well, that gets a wide, warm smile.
Jen's noticed the eyepatch, and the clothing that's slightly out of synch with the mainstream in her own world, but certainly not unheard of, particularly amongst the more passionate cultivar of Civil War recreationists and the like, as well as the occasional supervillain with a fondness for going all Napoleon.
"I would hope not, but hopes often are dashed in the icy waters of gender realpolitik. Jennifer Walters, Esquire, at your service. I was under the impression that virtually everything here was unanticipated."
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Also, he will never, ever wear breeches, or a tricorn hat.
"Roy Mustang, Fuhrer." He smiles. "And I am rapidly coming to believe that such is the case. Although the adage 'expect the unexpected' might be put to good use here."
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