[Valentine's Day means absolutely nothing to Olivier, a woman who swore to uphold the honor of her family and country before all other things; romance is not something she has time for, nor a diversion she's tempted to indulge in. She has her Mayfield-bound trysts, but they, too, will fade, just as the memories of home begin to grow dimmer with each passing month.
Another day, another damn package, it seems. Nothing, of course, could top the slap to the face that was the broken pocket watch that had saved the lives of her precious troops--the telltale symbol of her one weakness. So, what regained item, what remnant of her fighting spirit would they give her today? Would this attempt sap her willpower at last?
When the box is opened, nothing is there. Only the faintest imagined notion of the scent of snow-covered rock teases at the edges of her senses, bringing back a feeling of regret and an uneasy desire for resolution of a battle long abandoned. Nothing has--and nothing ever will--make her feel the way she feels in this moment. He'd walked away. He'd left. He had taken her pride and dignity when he lowered his blade, and it was unforgivable.
...And she remembers it all. Those residual feelings churn her stomach and give her muscle-gripping chills. Whatever they'd decided to give back to her had to, somehow, be a joke. A farce. She would never think this way about the enemy.
But, then again, wasn't her worst enemy always Bradley? Her love was--is--eternally for her country, the pride of a child of the greatest and strongest nation, a daughter who cast off her petticoats to become a warrior. Bradley undermined everything she stood for, everything she believed to be good and righteous. Though the deepest desire of her heart was to rule Amestris, its secret, brilliant side effect was to destroy that man from the inside out.
The hatred that simmered in Nagi's eyes wasn't directed at her, nor at her own troops. It was directed at a country that had, from what she had heard, destroyed everything he loved and stood for. They were the same, it turned out; it was an almost spiritual connection they shared, and that she'd tried, evidently, to forget. The last words she'd said to him had called him out as a coward, shouted with vitriol and disappointment across an ever-changing curtain of snow. Only the blood on her sword and the catch in her throat remained to remind her of the encounter.
He is the last thing she wants on her mind, in this place. Admiration of enemies has no place in war, and certainly could never exist between the Ice Queen and a mere traitor. But she was never Bradley. Never. That fact alone is why she should be Fuhrer one day, no matter how many bodies she had to leave in her wake.
This is Mayfield, though. This is Mayfield, and it rends the heart and drains the soul of all efficacy with silly pranks and small favors. The inevitability of things in Mayfield dictates that Olivier is, somehow, alone when the call from Nagi arrives. She's the only one there to answer, and answer she does. Her tone is cold, deadened by the grip of a bitter memory that she'll try desperately to ignore. How the hell did she forget in the first place?]
[There's a slight pause before he replies. What the hell does he even say? They had gone from being the fiercest of enemies to practically friends under Mayfield's curious amnesia. He couldn't in good conscience return to being her enemy. Not yet. Not without at least speaking to her first.
...And, a little part of him that niggled at the back of his mind said, maybe he didn't want to be her enemy at all. Maybe, in fact, he wanted to proceed in the opposite direction. This thought feels like a betrayal- of what, to whom, Nagi doesn't know.
But it's easy to keep your voice calm when it isn't your own.]
...I have recently regained some rather interesting memories. Do you know of what I speak?
I knew there was a good reason to hate you. A traitor to my country isn't going to be easily forgiven.
[Olivier seems hesitant; for once, her words lack conviction. The grudging respect she'd admitted to previously was actually heightened and complemented by having this vivid image returned to her. Nagi was, apparently, formidable, and gutsy enough to stand up to the harshest and most terrifying things Briggs could throw at anyone. Things that happened on the northern border of Amestris were never spoken of anywhere else, besides in hushed tones with sideways glances. She had no mercy in her heart.
But this wasn't mercy. This was... something else entirely. Trying to convince herself that there was nothing that could redeem Nagi in her eyes would be an uphill struggle. He was thrilling in these returned memories.
Two options weighed themselves before her: call him out and finish what they started, or a second, more sinister option...
Perhaps they could start something entirely different. If he could stand up to the iron will of Briggs, Mayfield should be a joke for them to destroy from the inside out. They just needed to find a sort of synchronicity.]
[She takes a deep, very necessary breath. This is not something she'd like to discuss with anyone here ever again, let alone someone who might try to use it against her. Composure in this situation is everything, though, so she'll play his game.
The situation she was in was beyond her control. How could he know that? It shouldn't even be relevant, but something they've built here compels her to explain.]
I know what he is, and what he did to my country. I know what he did to my soldiers, what he sent Kimbley to do when his dogs shunted me back to Central. Do you really think the massacre at the border was my doing? Even you should know better than that.
[The last offensive against Drachma. The decisive moment, only a few weeks after her own notable encounter with Nagi. The last point of the transmutation circle. Just thinking about it enraged Olivier. She would never forgive any of them for that, not Kimbley, not a single scientist, not a single higher-up. Her men were not pawns to be used to carve out lies.
She'll omit that one of her men fought Bradley to the death, and that she's personally backing the man who killed Bradley. It's irrelevant, despite being a point of pride.]
[She drops her tone low.] Only a few months, and I hated him well before that for being an incompetent fool. As much as I hate to admit it, the brat told me. The Fullmetal Alchemist. They kept me at Briggs for a reason.
...Don't lump me in with them. I had nothing to do with that, or the army they were trying to create. I don't deal with monsters.
I was fighting to be Fuhrer. Maybe it was my own ambition that propelled me, but I wanted that plan stopped the moment I found out about it. I would have killed him with my bare hands if I'd had the chance. Him--all of them.
I made myself a war criminal while trying to wrench my country out of his hands. I've destroyed my own name. Isn't that enough to satisfy you?
[The "don't you dare" is implied in the sharpness of her tone. She won't stand for this. She has no idea why she's taking it personally, but the tightness in her chest and the blinding, deafening rage echoing in her head are driving her slowly to the edge of composure.
And then it hits her: Nagi echoes her own fears about herself. She was complicit, whether she knew it or not. Her forces--albeit led by Kimbley--shed the blood that completed the transmutation circle that nearly destroyed the entire nation. Thousands of lives were on her back, and all to fight something she'd unknowingly been aiding for years.
For her entire life. This was not her beloved Amestris. It was some monster's puppet that she could hardly stand. Nothing could make her cry, but this... it's almost enough to make her vomit. She shuts it out, reminds herself that she's always fought against things she can't stand--Bradley included--whether people knew it or not. Nobility wasn't the root cause, but her love of her country could never be questioned. Taking power into her own hands was conveniently the same as taking it from someone else's, after all, and who needed a noble cause when they were the best of all potential candidates? All she needed was her drive and ambition... And, apparently, she fears, a lack of knowledge of what is happening just underground.
It's a nightmare of regret, and Nagi is conjuring it again.]
[Nagi closes his eyes and leans back, exhaling deeply. The rage seeps out of him like steam. He knows this hurts her. He also knows she can take it.
And he had to make sure. He had to make absolutely certain before this partnership, or rivalry, or friendship or whatever the hell it was went any further. No matter how he felt about Olivier, no matter how much he admired her, anyone who was loyal to Bradley and participated in the system that had ripped his life out from under him was someone he would either kill or die trying to. No one was exempt.
But Olivier, it seems, is fighting the same battle he is, albeit from a different perspective. Bradley is their common foe- as is Mayfield. Just as their methods of resistance against the latter had differed, so did their methods for the former. He remembers what he said to her in their second conversation here, about multiple groups working in tandem being more effective than a single, unified assault...
Their methods couldn't be more different, but their goal is the same. As are their enemies. It's foolish to continue fighting her- worse than that, it's exactly what Bradley would want him to do. And, says that little voice, let's not forget that having Olivier Armstrong as an ally is a much more appealing thought than having her as an enemy.
This is true for more reasons than one, he realizes, and then pushes the thought away.]
I won't be satisfied until I have Fuhrer Bradley's corpse lying in front of me. But for now? Yes. That's all I needed to hear.
I propose a truce, Major General. Continuing our war here accomplishes nothing for either of us. The choice of whether or not to accept is yours to make.
[Olivier is as close to on-edge as she gets, but it's easy enough to deliver the truth. Nagi shouldn't be able to miss the note of pride in her voice, nor the smallest shadow of frustration that still lingers.
It should've been her kill.]
He's dead. I saw the body myself.
If you want details, I'll give them to you, but not like this. The phones aren't secure.
As for a truce... I won't go back on my word. I believe I've already expressed my feelings on the matter at the party, and this revelation doesn't change a thing. We have to work together if we're going to get out of here.
I see. [And it's times like this that Nagi's glad his voice is mechanical; otherwise she'd hear the note of relief in his voice.
Bradley is gone. Dead. His life's mission is over, and it happened entirely without him. He feels cheated, but what does it matter if it wasn't him to deliver the blow? Bradley is dead. He can't hurt anyone else, and maybe now she can rest in peace.
Nagi exhales, deeply.] Shall we meet up in person, then? I'd like to see you face to face.
[He waits. He'd have waited longer, if need be.] Are you expecting a fight? And here I thought you believed me a peace-loving coward. [He's amused, the battle in the blizzard ringing in his mind.]
My sword isn't here, of course. But if having yours makes you feel better, by all means.
[There's a small click, and another silence, then the sound of someone exhaling. If it takes a little vice to keep her from rising to his words, so be it. She won't be baited, and she won't let any of the relief slip into her tone. After all this, she's not really up for fighting just yet. The image of his retreating form and her own palpable disappointment feels fresh again.]
Don't flatter yourself. You're a damn coward, and I could kill you with my bare hands. I just don't want to give you nightmares by not warning you that I'm armed. You might cry.
By all means, feel free to try to kill me. It's not as thought it will last here, is it? And I'll be interested to see if you're more successful the second time around. [He's not entirely sure why he's teasing her like this, and he has the vague sense of being a deer trotting past the cave of a hungry wolf.
Maybe it's because, however much he doesn't want to admit it, the words do string. Traitor. Coward. He's spent years convincing himself that these words don't apply to him, and to have them thrown in his face by her makes his blood boil.] The park. Nice neutral ground. I'd prefer to be alone, but if you'd feel safer with a few bodyguards, I won't mind.
Another day, another damn package, it seems. Nothing, of course, could top the slap to the face that was the broken pocket watch that had saved the lives of her precious troops--the telltale symbol of her one weakness. So, what regained item, what remnant of her fighting spirit would they give her today? Would this attempt sap her willpower at last?
When the box is opened, nothing is there. Only the faintest imagined notion of the scent of snow-covered rock teases at the edges of her senses, bringing back a feeling of regret and an uneasy desire for resolution of a battle long abandoned. Nothing has--and nothing ever will--make her feel the way she feels in this moment. He'd walked away. He'd left. He had taken her pride and dignity when he lowered his blade, and it was unforgivable.
...And she remembers it all. Those residual feelings churn her stomach and give her muscle-gripping chills. Whatever they'd decided to give back to her had to, somehow, be a joke. A farce. She would never think this way about the enemy.
But, then again, wasn't her worst enemy always Bradley? Her love was--is--eternally for her country, the pride of a child of the greatest and strongest nation, a daughter who cast off her petticoats to become a warrior. Bradley undermined everything she stood for, everything she believed to be good and righteous. Though the deepest desire of her heart was to rule Amestris, its secret, brilliant side effect was to destroy that man from the inside out.
The hatred that simmered in Nagi's eyes wasn't directed at her, nor at her own troops. It was directed at a country that had, from what she had heard, destroyed everything he loved and stood for. They were the same, it turned out; it was an almost spiritual connection they shared, and that she'd tried, evidently, to forget. The last words she'd said to him had called him out as a coward, shouted with vitriol and disappointment across an ever-changing curtain of snow. Only the blood on her sword and the catch in her throat remained to remind her of the encounter.
He is the last thing she wants on her mind, in this place. Admiration of enemies has no place in war, and certainly could never exist between the Ice Queen and a mere traitor. But she was never Bradley. Never. That fact alone is why she should be Fuhrer one day, no matter how many bodies she had to leave in her wake.
This is Mayfield, though. This is Mayfield, and it rends the heart and drains the soul of all efficacy with silly pranks and small favors. The inevitability of things in Mayfield dictates that Olivier is, somehow, alone when the call from Nagi arrives. She's the only one there to answer, and answer she does. Her tone is cold, deadened by the grip of a bitter memory that she'll try desperately to ignore. How the hell did she forget in the first place?]
...I'm listening.
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...And, a little part of him that niggled at the back of his mind said, maybe he didn't want to be her enemy at all. Maybe, in fact, he wanted to proceed in the opposite direction. This thought feels like a betrayal- of what, to whom, Nagi doesn't know.
But it's easy to keep your voice calm when it isn't your own.]
...I have recently regained some rather interesting memories. Do you know of what I speak?
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[Olivier seems hesitant; for once, her words lack conviction. The grudging respect she'd admitted to previously was actually heightened and complemented by having this vivid image returned to her. Nagi was, apparently, formidable, and gutsy enough to stand up to the harshest and most terrifying things Briggs could throw at anyone. Things that happened on the northern border of Amestris were never spoken of anywhere else, besides in hushed tones with sideways glances. She had no mercy in her heart.
But this wasn't mercy. This was... something else entirely. Trying to convince herself that there was nothing that could redeem Nagi in her eyes would be an uphill struggle. He was thrilling in these returned memories.
Two options weighed themselves before her: call him out and finish what they started, or a second, more sinister option...
Perhaps they could start something entirely different. If he could stand up to the iron will of Briggs, Mayfield should be a joke for them to destroy from the inside out. They just needed to find a sort of synchronicity.]
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[Which of them is the real traitor, Nagi wonders. He, at least, has only betrayed something so meager as a country. It's time to get some answers.]
I only have one question for you, Olivier.
Do you know... are you aware... of what Bradley has done to your people?
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The situation she was in was beyond her control. How could he know that? It shouldn't even be relevant, but something they've built here compels her to explain.]
I know what he is, and what he did to my country. I know what he did to my soldiers, what he sent Kimbley to do when his dogs shunted me back to Central. Do you really think the massacre at the border was my doing? Even you should know better than that.
[The last offensive against Drachma. The decisive moment, only a few weeks after her own notable encounter with Nagi. The last point of the transmutation circle. Just thinking about it enraged Olivier. She would never forgive any of them for that, not Kimbley, not a single scientist, not a single higher-up. Her men were not pawns to be used to carve out lies.
She'll omit that one of her men fought Bradley to the death, and that she's personally backing the man who killed Bradley. It's irrelevant, despite being a point of pride.]
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...Don't lump me in with them. I had nothing to do with that, or the army they were trying to create. I don't deal with monsters.
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I made myself a war criminal while trying to wrench my country out of his hands. I've destroyed my own name. Isn't that enough to satisfy you?
[The "don't you dare" is implied in the sharpness of her tone. She won't stand for this. She has no idea why she's taking it personally, but the tightness in her chest and the blinding, deafening rage echoing in her head are driving her slowly to the edge of composure.
And then it hits her: Nagi echoes her own fears about herself. She was complicit, whether she knew it or not. Her forces--albeit led by Kimbley--shed the blood that completed the transmutation circle that nearly destroyed the entire nation. Thousands of lives were on her back, and all to fight something she'd unknowingly been aiding for years.
For her entire life. This was not her beloved Amestris. It was some monster's puppet that she could hardly stand. Nothing could make her cry, but this... it's almost enough to make her vomit. She shuts it out, reminds herself that she's always fought against things she can't stand--Bradley included--whether people knew it or not. Nobility wasn't the root cause, but her love of her country could never be questioned. Taking power into her own hands was conveniently the same as taking it from someone else's, after all, and who needed a noble cause when they were the best of all potential candidates? All she needed was her drive and ambition... And, apparently, she fears, a lack of knowledge of what is happening just underground.
It's a nightmare of regret, and Nagi is conjuring it again.]
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And he had to make sure. He had to make absolutely certain before this partnership, or rivalry, or friendship or whatever the hell it was went any further. No matter how he felt about Olivier, no matter how much he admired her, anyone who was loyal to Bradley and participated in the system that had ripped his life out from under him was someone he would either kill or die trying to. No one was exempt.
But Olivier, it seems, is fighting the same battle he is, albeit from a different perspective. Bradley is their common foe- as is Mayfield. Just as their methods of resistance against the latter had differed, so did their methods for the former. He remembers what he said to her in their second conversation here, about multiple groups working in tandem being more effective than a single, unified assault...
Their methods couldn't be more different, but their goal is the same. As are their enemies. It's foolish to continue fighting her- worse than that, it's exactly what Bradley would want him to do. And, says that little voice, let's not forget that having Olivier Armstrong as an ally is a much more appealing thought than having her as an enemy.
This is true for more reasons than one, he realizes, and then pushes the thought away.]
I won't be satisfied until I have Fuhrer Bradley's corpse lying in front of me. But for now? Yes. That's all I needed to hear.
I propose a truce, Major General. Continuing our war here accomplishes nothing for either of us. The choice of whether or not to accept is yours to make.
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It should've been her kill.]
He's dead. I saw the body myself.
If you want details, I'll give them to you, but not like this. The phones aren't secure.
As for a truce... I won't go back on my word. I believe I've already expressed my feelings on the matter at the party, and this revelation doesn't change a thing. We have to work together if we're going to get out of here.
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Bradley is gone. Dead. His life's mission is over, and it happened entirely without him. He feels cheated, but what does it matter if it wasn't him to deliver the blow? Bradley is dead. He can't hurt anyone else, and maybe now she can rest in peace.
Nagi exhales, deeply.] Shall we meet up in person, then? I'd like to see you face to face.
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You really want to know? Fine. I'll meet you somewhere. I'm not coming unarmed, though.
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My sword isn't here, of course. But if having yours makes you feel better, by all means.
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Don't flatter yourself. You're a damn coward, and I could kill you with my bare hands. I just don't want to give you nightmares by not warning you that I'm armed. You might cry.
Where do you want to meet?
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Maybe it's because, however much he doesn't want to admit it, the words do string. Traitor. Coward. He's spent years convincing himself that these words don't apply to him, and to have them thrown in his face by her makes his blood boil.] The park. Nice neutral ground. I'd prefer to be alone, but if you'd feel safer with a few bodyguards, I won't mind.
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