Already there was something mysterious and homelike. [Soul Campaign]
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Title: Already there was something mysterious and homelike.
Characters/Pairing(s): Roy & Lightning
Rating: G
Summary: Quiet camaraderie.
Warnings? Nothin~
Notes: The title is taken from the 31_days theme for April 18, 2010
Already there was something mysterious and homelike.
It has become routine for them, a sort of ritual. It starts with a message on the network, filtered to no eyes save theirs. If it is Lightning who contacts Roy first, there’s nothing but a name (“Mustang”) and a time (“12:15 PM”). If it is Roy who contacts Lightning first, it’s a status report coupled with a I’ll Need Your Input, Think You Can Come Around?, Any Time Is Good. Suffice to say, if he’s the first to stretch out his hand, she doesn’t always turn up. He does not take this against her: it’s simply who she is.
(Her no show acts, though, are less frequent these days. Sometimes, he finds himself wondering why.)
The second part involves Lightning turning up at Roy’s doorstep - she brings nothing but herself, of course, and that is more than enough. Their greetings involve a glance, a nod. Roy is always at the desk closest to the window; Lightning always takes the seat facing the door, one that has been deliberately positioned at the exact distance she needs to move in and eliminate any threat that could theoretically come rushing in. She does not actually realize that Roy set it up like that on purpose, and Roy is not about to volunteer the information. They have been ‘comrades’ of a sort (friends?) for enough of a period for Roy to have firsthand experience of Lightning’s pride and how she acts on it.
The rest of the ritual involves them seated at one desk, together yet not together, going over reports, occasionally exchanging notes, sometimes talking about small, ‘professional’ matters. When Roy smokes, he sits on the windowsill. Lightning, in spite of herself, finds that she does not mind the smell on him, or around him - she hates it on other people.
When it’s cold, they transfer to the desk by the chimney and light a fire. When it’s raining, they’re just a tad slower than usual, yet neither of them mind. When it’s hot, they strip just enough to make themselves both comfortable with the casual disregard of two people used to the sight of skin (soldiers; it comes with the territory). And sometimes, very rarely, they talk about the people who matter, the things they’ve done, the battles they’ve fought and the steps they plan on taking next.
They never push each other for info, and are comfortable with silence. Lightning is not good with conversation; Roy feels that he isn’t as good with people as others think that he is. And both of them are extremely private individuals, the type who survive on being in a crowd without actually ever being a part of it. In that, they’ve both agreed without actually agreeing that small talk - personal talk - is Out of the Question.
This practice of theirs never lasts for too long; Lightning can only last in a closed space for about four hours before that itch to Move And Do Something becomes unbearable, and Roy has other documents to check and other people to meet. Still, it’s more than enough time for both of them to notice (appreciate) the small things:
For Roy, it’s the collection of small, precise movements in which Lightning conducts herself - the way she can stretch so languidly without wasting any effort, the exact way she pushes her hair behind her ears and out of her face.
For Lightning, it’s the low cadence of Roy’s voice, the quiet look in his one good eye, and the slow drags he takes from each and every one of those cigarettes.
Title: Already there was something mysterious and homelike.
Characters/Pairing(s): Roy & Lightning
Rating: G
Summary: Quiet camaraderie.
Warnings? Nothin~
Notes: The title is taken from the 31_days theme for April 18, 2010
Already there was something mysterious and homelike.
It has become routine for them, a sort of ritual. It starts with a message on the network, filtered to no eyes save theirs. If it is Lightning who contacts Roy first, there’s nothing but a name (“Mustang”) and a time (“12:15 PM”). If it is Roy who contacts Lightning first, it’s a status report coupled with a I’ll Need Your Input, Think You Can Come Around?, Any Time Is Good. Suffice to say, if he’s the first to stretch out his hand, she doesn’t always turn up. He does not take this against her: it’s simply who she is.
(Her no show acts, though, are less frequent these days. Sometimes, he finds himself wondering why.)
The second part involves Lightning turning up at Roy’s doorstep - she brings nothing but herself, of course, and that is more than enough. Their greetings involve a glance, a nod. Roy is always at the desk closest to the window; Lightning always takes the seat facing the door, one that has been deliberately positioned at the exact distance she needs to move in and eliminate any threat that could theoretically come rushing in. She does not actually realize that Roy set it up like that on purpose, and Roy is not about to volunteer the information. They have been ‘comrades’ of a sort (friends?) for enough of a period for Roy to have firsthand experience of Lightning’s pride and how she acts on it.
The rest of the ritual involves them seated at one desk, together yet not together, going over reports, occasionally exchanging notes, sometimes talking about small, ‘professional’ matters. When Roy smokes, he sits on the windowsill. Lightning, in spite of herself, finds that she does not mind the smell on him, or around him - she hates it on other people.
When it’s cold, they transfer to the desk by the chimney and light a fire. When it’s raining, they’re just a tad slower than usual, yet neither of them mind. When it’s hot, they strip just enough to make themselves both comfortable with the casual disregard of two people used to the sight of skin (soldiers; it comes with the territory). And sometimes, very rarely, they talk about the people who matter, the things they’ve done, the battles they’ve fought and the steps they plan on taking next.
They never push each other for info, and are comfortable with silence. Lightning is not good with conversation; Roy feels that he isn’t as good with people as others think that he is. And both of them are extremely private individuals, the type who survive on being in a crowd without actually ever being a part of it. In that, they’ve both agreed without actually agreeing that small talk - personal talk - is Out of the Question.
This practice of theirs never lasts for too long; Lightning can only last in a closed space for about four hours before that itch to Move And Do Something becomes unbearable, and Roy has other documents to check and other people to meet. Still, it’s more than enough time for both of them to notice (appreciate) the small things:
For Roy, it’s the collection of small, precise movements in which Lightning conducts herself - the way she can stretch so languidly without wasting any effort, the exact way she pushes her hair behind her ears and out of her face.
For Lightning, it’s the low cadence of Roy’s voice, the quiet look in his one good eye, and the slow drags he takes from each and every one of those cigarettes.