(Untitled)

[notashortbean]

In the bar, it's October. But in Ed's world, it's a very certain date of April - the date being his birthday. You wouldn't guess it from the annoyed look on his face, but you might guess it from the stack of books by him, half of which are still caught various stages of wrapping paper

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[plant_alchemist]

Russell never forgets a date, especially not one as important as Ed's birthday. Luckily, it also happens to be April in Amestris, so Russell has arrived in the bar prepared.

He is currently standing off to the side of Ed's table, having just come downstairs. He's also wearing a smirk that makes it seem like he's hiding something.

The fact that his hands are behind his back may support this.

[notashortbean]

Ed's eyes light up a little when he spots Russ - but soon after, he looks a little wary. Come on, wouldn't you, if Russell Tringham showed up and smirked at you while wielding some unknown object?

"Um, hi?" he ventures, almsot afraid to ask. He's forgotten the date, for a moment.

[plant_alchemist]

Whatever Russell is hiding would only be dangerous if he decides to make it do something, so Ed has nothing to worry about.

"Are you even going to try and guess what I have?"

Because just showing what it is would be no fun at all!

[notashortbean]

Ed considers this, and raises an eyebrow. "A pack of cards?" he ventures, and can't repress a little bit of a smirk of his own.

[maxwellsdemon02]

Duo peers at him from across the table. Last time they talked, it was just shooting the shit about machines. Before that, it was full on relationship panic. It's like roulette. WHAT WILL ED BE LIKE TONIGHT.

"Yo." We'll go for neutral to start with.

[notashortbean]

Maybe more like Russian Roulette, considering Ed's personality.

"Yo," Ed says, his voice a little short. "What's up."

[maxwellsdemon02]

"I was hoping it would be your mood. My hopes are dashed. Woe is my lot in life, man. I'm just using my time before I get shipped out again wisely. You?"

[notashortbean]

"My mood's fine," Ed protests. "And where you gettin' shipped off to?"

[snapcrackleburn]

There's suddenly a Roy leaning against the edge of Ed's table, taking in the situation -- books, wrapping paper, and a very disgruntled Edward Elric. It's not terribly difficult to piece together the fact that it's the guy's birthday, though the other half of the equation is being a bit elusive.

"You know, most people I know have a tendency to be happy on their birthday," he notes, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray with one hand and ruffling Ed's hair with the other.

[notashortbean]

Ed makes an effort to sit up a bit from his slump, and offers Roy a half-hearted form of a smile. "Yeah," he says. "But most aren't having a birthday that's gonna be the beginning of the end."

Oh, the traditional Elric melodramatics.

[snapcrackleburn]

"Most people also wait until they turn twenty-one to really start with the griping," Roy points out before sitting down next to Ed. "Anyway, if you think eighteen is bad, you're going to love when you turn thirty. Popular consensus is that you're more or less dead, at that point."

And in exactly one month, Roy is going to be turning thirty-five. Trust the man who knows, Ed!

[notashortbean]

"I'd hope thirty isn't dead," Ed says, "'Cuz otherwise I'd be the worst kind of pervert."

Come on now. Ew?