HWSFH Chapter 37 Preview
Alrighty, one more chess piece laying chapter before I start kicking people around again... lol.
Al's Side Preview--------------------------------
"Sirs."
Both Havoc and Mustang turned at the request of Sergeant Feury, whose head had poked up from the roof hatch atop the building.
"Um…" the young officer adjusted his glasses, "there's a situation downstairs - we need you."
Mustang and Havoc exchanged a concerned glance. "Situation?" Mustang began refitting his eye patch.
"Yeah…" Feury aired out slowly, hesitant to give out much more, "you really should come down to the lobby - both of you."
This was neither the time nor the place for any kind of 'situation', they were thin for this surveillance exercise and the last thing Mustang needed was for someone to take advantage of that. Both officers slid down the ladder into the loft of the building, following Feury as he led them out of the upper reaches of this office building and down into the heart of the structure. The building's stairwell cut straight up the centre of the complex and let out into the security lobby - a lobby that was occupied by a handful of officers in Mustang's security regiment. As the pairs of boots echoed off the final few steps and the stairwell let everyone out into the room, the movement around him stopped and Mustang's advancement into the lobby slowed.
Hawkeye stood in the centre of the room, weapon in her right hand, left arm holding a 'prisoner', even though Mustang had told his officers not to take prisoners. Her prisoner of choice stiffened Mustang's shoulders, tightened his jaw a little firmer, and left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable. With a deep breath and slow exhale to follow, Mustang's footsteps echoed into the silent room as he walked forwards.
"General Hakuro, what brings you my way?"
The older officer, with his hands clasped freely behind his back, chest pumped proudly, stared sternly towards Mustang, "I came to negotiate with you."
"Negotiate?" it was a very short sentence that had a tidal wave of meaning for Mustang. What the hell could he negotiate with Hakuro over? Even as one of the highest ranking generals in the military, serving the prime minister directly, General Hakuro had very little negotiating power.
Ed's Side Preview-----------------------------------------
"Here we are," the man produced a thin white envelope and snapped the crisp flap up. Ed golden eyes curiously watched as Hess produced two thick slips of paper from the sleeve and hand them over, "for your birthday."
Wrinkling his nose, Ed took hold of the slips. Each time he read them, and then re-read them to make sure he was reading them right, the Elric's face fell a little further, "… Orchestra tickets?" Ed didn't even know if he liked the German orchestra. He didn't exactly have any opinion on classical or instrumental music one way or another. What the hell was he supposed to do at a concert?
"Yes, for tomorrow night. It's a little short notice, so I hope you're not doing anything," Hess gave a nod.
Ed flipped the tickets over, read them again, and continued to look blankly at the gesture. Finally, after puzzling over any possible relationship Edward Elric might have with classical music, Ed re-read the full description on the face of the ticket, choked on his gasp, and abruptly handed them back.
"I can't accept this."
Hess looked back at Ed with a good deal of confusion, "Why not?"
Ed's jaw could have fallen off, "Christ! Were you not paying attention when you paid for them? I can't accept that."
The financial concern was not shared by the man handing him the tickets, "I got them from the event organizer, he's one of our party supporters. We have a mutual promotional arrangement and they cost me next to nothing," Hess slipped the tickets back into the crisp envelope, "treat yourself and introduce Winry to the finer side of German culture instead of the doldrums she always has to be a part of with you."
Choosing to ignore the implication that his company was something less than pleasant, Ed paled as the tickets were re-offered to him. Beyond the fact Ed figured he would have had to starve for a week to afforded the tickets on his own, Ed didn't know if he owned something nice enough to attend, let alone Winry. He hadn't really ever mingled with high society… classical music was high society, wasn't it? That price was absolutely high society at the very least - that upper class still existed despite the depression. Ed's eyes shifted through the room hesitantly.
"They're a gift, Edward," Hess's shoulders fell, "accept them like that. Get out of the house for a night and have a treat."
------------------------------------------------
Enjoy~!
Al's Side Preview--------------------------------
"Sirs."
Both Havoc and Mustang turned at the request of Sergeant Feury, whose head had poked up from the roof hatch atop the building.
"Um…" the young officer adjusted his glasses, "there's a situation downstairs - we need you."
Mustang and Havoc exchanged a concerned glance. "Situation?" Mustang began refitting his eye patch.
"Yeah…" Feury aired out slowly, hesitant to give out much more, "you really should come down to the lobby - both of you."
This was neither the time nor the place for any kind of 'situation', they were thin for this surveillance exercise and the last thing Mustang needed was for someone to take advantage of that. Both officers slid down the ladder into the loft of the building, following Feury as he led them out of the upper reaches of this office building and down into the heart of the structure. The building's stairwell cut straight up the centre of the complex and let out into the security lobby - a lobby that was occupied by a handful of officers in Mustang's security regiment. As the pairs of boots echoed off the final few steps and the stairwell let everyone out into the room, the movement around him stopped and Mustang's advancement into the lobby slowed.
Hawkeye stood in the centre of the room, weapon in her right hand, left arm holding a 'prisoner', even though Mustang had told his officers not to take prisoners. Her prisoner of choice stiffened Mustang's shoulders, tightened his jaw a little firmer, and left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable. With a deep breath and slow exhale to follow, Mustang's footsteps echoed into the silent room as he walked forwards.
"General Hakuro, what brings you my way?"
The older officer, with his hands clasped freely behind his back, chest pumped proudly, stared sternly towards Mustang, "I came to negotiate with you."
"Negotiate?" it was a very short sentence that had a tidal wave of meaning for Mustang. What the hell could he negotiate with Hakuro over? Even as one of the highest ranking generals in the military, serving the prime minister directly, General Hakuro had very little negotiating power.
Ed's Side Preview-----------------------------------------
"Here we are," the man produced a thin white envelope and snapped the crisp flap up. Ed golden eyes curiously watched as Hess produced two thick slips of paper from the sleeve and hand them over, "for your birthday."
Wrinkling his nose, Ed took hold of the slips. Each time he read them, and then re-read them to make sure he was reading them right, the Elric's face fell a little further, "… Orchestra tickets?" Ed didn't even know if he liked the German orchestra. He didn't exactly have any opinion on classical or instrumental music one way or another. What the hell was he supposed to do at a concert?
"Yes, for tomorrow night. It's a little short notice, so I hope you're not doing anything," Hess gave a nod.
Ed flipped the tickets over, read them again, and continued to look blankly at the gesture. Finally, after puzzling over any possible relationship Edward Elric might have with classical music, Ed re-read the full description on the face of the ticket, choked on his gasp, and abruptly handed them back.
"I can't accept this."
Hess looked back at Ed with a good deal of confusion, "Why not?"
Ed's jaw could have fallen off, "Christ! Were you not paying attention when you paid for them? I can't accept that."
The financial concern was not shared by the man handing him the tickets, "I got them from the event organizer, he's one of our party supporters. We have a mutual promotional arrangement and they cost me next to nothing," Hess slipped the tickets back into the crisp envelope, "treat yourself and introduce Winry to the finer side of German culture instead of the doldrums she always has to be a part of with you."
Choosing to ignore the implication that his company was something less than pleasant, Ed paled as the tickets were re-offered to him. Beyond the fact Ed figured he would have had to starve for a week to afforded the tickets on his own, Ed didn't know if he owned something nice enough to attend, let alone Winry. He hadn't really ever mingled with high society… classical music was high society, wasn't it? That price was absolutely high society at the very least - that upper class still existed despite the depression. Ed's eyes shifted through the room hesitantly.
"They're a gift, Edward," Hess's shoulders fell, "accept them like that. Get out of the house for a night and have a treat."
------------------------------------------------
Enjoy~!