Roy Mustang (
snapcrackleburn) wrote in
interstellar55552016-02-12 02:12 am
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Entry tags:
Wise men say...
Who: Roy Mustang & Riza Hawkeye
What: Roy has to spend Valentine's performing for happy couples butdue to popular demand he doesn't have to spend the entire evening alone
When: The evening of Feb 14th
Where: An old school club with a stage somewhere in Vista City
Warnings: Brief mention of previous torture and bad war memories. Romantic mush. Might give shippers feels.
The preview performances and interviews for the album were over. Minus some drinking and new ink Roy had been well behaved while making his way through the busy schedule Pride had thrown at him. It occurred to him after several days of growing clarity that his intoxicated trip to the tattoo parlor had been less of a rebellious gesture and more of a desperate attempt to feel like he had some control left. He knew now what Pride was capable of- death had been dealt to people before him, and he was somehow not his "real self" all thanks to Pride. It took much strength not to despair.
The evening of the fourteenth Roy is relieved to be accompanied by a single body guard to a dinnertime performance at one of the old fashioned clubs out in the city. A smaller crowd awaits him in the dimly lit dining area; someone had forked over a pretty penny to Pride requesting that Mustang show up there to sing the love songs from his album to set the mood for their date. Sitting up on a humble stage with an acoustic guitar in his lap while his body guard is off taking care of unexpected car troubles leaves him feeling relief he hasn't had in what seems like ages.
"This one goes out to a very special woman," he dares to dedicate his final song of the evening, laughing on the inside at the idea of sending the paparazzi chasing their tails trying to find someone he himself was still trying to figure out. The shy girl in the old house, the woman from the battlefield sitting quietly beside him, the woman on the street corner walking her dog who hasn't yet realized he's watching her from across the street with a fond smile. "Elizabeth, you know who you are." The audience, mostly made up of couples, chuckle softly and he begins to play.
What: Roy has to spend Valentine's performing for happy couples but
When: The evening of Feb 14th
Where: An old school club with a stage somewhere in Vista City
Warnings: Brief mention of previous torture and bad war memories. Romantic mush. Might give shippers feels.
The preview performances and interviews for the album were over. Minus some drinking and new ink Roy had been well behaved while making his way through the busy schedule Pride had thrown at him. It occurred to him after several days of growing clarity that his intoxicated trip to the tattoo parlor had been less of a rebellious gesture and more of a desperate attempt to feel like he had some control left. He knew now what Pride was capable of- death had been dealt to people before him, and he was somehow not his "real self" all thanks to Pride. It took much strength not to despair.
The evening of the fourteenth Roy is relieved to be accompanied by a single body guard to a dinnertime performance at one of the old fashioned clubs out in the city. A smaller crowd awaits him in the dimly lit dining area; someone had forked over a pretty penny to Pride requesting that Mustang show up there to sing the love songs from his album to set the mood for their date. Sitting up on a humble stage with an acoustic guitar in his lap while his body guard is off taking care of unexpected car troubles leaves him feeling relief he hasn't had in what seems like ages.
"This one goes out to a very special woman," he dares to dedicate his final song of the evening, laughing on the inside at the idea of sending the paparazzi chasing their tails trying to find someone he himself was still trying to figure out. The shy girl in the old house, the woman from the battlefield sitting quietly beside him, the woman on the street corner walking her dog who hasn't yet realized he's watching her from across the street with a fond smile. "Elizabeth, you know who you are." The audience, mostly made up of couples, chuckle softly and he begins to play.
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"Really?" Roy leans forward in his seat. "Your friend. Is she a young girl named Emma? Short. Fancy headphones."
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"She's a good kid. A little strange and eager, but good all the same."
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Slowly, slowly, Roy swallows and forces himself to sit up straight in his seat again. It's difficult not to start looking like he's just been surprised in the most wonderful way, which try as he might to hide, he does. Elizabeth... thinks about him all the time? Elizabeth doesn't mind the album name or the dedication she just witnessed? By some miracle he mostly hides the victorious shouts inside of his head.
"Yes. She seemed very enthusiastic and sweet." He's barely thinking about "Emma" right now though. He clears his throat to try dismissing any tension but it doesn't do much to help.
"Did you... like the album?" Is it getting hot in here?
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"Yes." It had been a surprise, but she really had. It wasn't as if she had any idea what to expect from an album of songs all directed toward her. Oh, he'll be embarrassed by all of this eventually, but it's nice all the same. She ends up looking down at her glass for a moment before adding, "It sounds like you really mean it."
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"Thank you. It was my intention for every song to be sincere," he says, glancing downward at the table immediately after saying it. There's that tension in the air again. There's so much more he needs to say. He has heard one too many whispers about other lives and real selves at Pride to skirt around the subject. How could he dream about her before meeting her at the library?
His determination sets in place, and he looks at her, speaks to her in a tone that is more like his regular self than anything she has heard from him since he was taken. "If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you a story, actually, related to my album. I haven't told anyone else yet and I've been hoping that somehow we'd meet again so you could be the first person I tell it to."
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She'd recognize that voice anywhere and quickly straightens up in her seat without thinking about it. Once she does, though, Riza leans forward arms crossed over the table top. "You can tell me anything." She wants to add, you've always been able to, but she has to hold that back for both their sakes.
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"Imagine this. There used to be a musician named Baryl, a drummer. He and his band signed on with a big shot label and the audiences loved them. Everything seemed perfect. But then he and his bandmates realized that their music label was not what it seemed. In fact their CEO, the villain of this story, was running a corrupt business and tortured anyone who disobeyed their orders. One day Baryl's band did something that made their boss so angry that the band was executed." He bows his head and stares at the table top again. He clenches his fists, he can feel his heart beating in his stomach, the thought of Pride and its torture devices crying out for him to stop. Do not disobey or suffer the consequences.
"But that's not the end of the story. It's just the start." He looks back into her eyes and feels some relief. She's there with him and he's stronger when they're together. He can do this. "Baryl and his band came back to haunt their label as ghosts. They wanted to warn the other musicians about the truth. They saw other people taken from their lives and tortured, brainwashed, into joining and obeying the company. So Baryl did his best to communicate with them. Knock things over in their rooms, flicker the lights, play music, and try to use what means he had to trigger memories so the brainwashed artists could remember who they really were. The CEO caught on and trapped one of Baryl's bandmates, hoping to prevent the truth from coming out."
Roy pauses and squeezes his eyes shut, drawing in a long shaking breath. Just saying that much has him quivering inside with the fear Lesedi had conditioned him with. She'll kill him. He has said more than enough for her to end his life.
He leans forward and presses his fists down on the table in front of him, wishing he could ask "Elizabeth" to hold him steady and help him stop from shaking. "Eventually, Baryl found some musicians willing to help him free his bandmate. Before they went to save the other ghost, Baryl told them all the truth. That they were not themselves. In the end they freed Baryl's bandmate but the CEO arrived and punished the musicians who had helped them. She ingrained them with fear and doubts, but even after they were hurt they never forgot what Baryl had told them. They never forgot what the ghosts had helped them remember about themselves."
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It's not a feeling she's used to and it's not one she particularly likes. There was a difference between being a sniper in the military who followed orders and imagining the deaths of others for any other reason. She didn't care for either, but she could reconcile herself to the previous definition of herself.
She lets him finish telling her about these ghosts (friends of Gold and Silver?) before resting her hand on his much like she'd done at the library. This time, she moves her chair closer to him, to become just like any of the other couples in the club celebrating the day; although the words she ends up whispering to him aren't exactly the same, "Tell me what you remember."
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He looks into her eyes, watching for her reaction. "Almost all of these with a woman." He feels like the name is on the tip of his tongue again and this time it comes out. "Riza Hawkeye. The woman I love." He says it so easily without a drop of hesitation, not knowing everything they've sacrificed for their goals. To him the intimacy he feels is surely a sign of a long loving relationship, perhaps even marriage.
There's a twinkle in his eye as something else returns to him. "Elizabeth. It's a code name."
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She tries to keep the pain of that uncertainty out of her demeanor when she replies; the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes, however. "I knew you'd get there eventually."
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It's too soon. He can't bring himself to speak of it or the torture, he can feel a lump grow in his throat when he tries to get himself to ask about it. Sorrow flashes across his face and is replaced by a more genuine smile. For now, there are other things to talk about.
"What did you name that dog again? It was something funny wasn't it?" he asks. "What I remember of him is amusing. He was softer as a pup. Very well disciplined." He gives her a pointed look. "And as friendly and loyal as any good dog." He sighs dramatically. "I've been both impressed by that dog, and so very jealous of all the loving attention he gets from you."
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"What's so funny about Black Hayate?" She's not half as annoyed at him for that as she could be--he'd never liked the name, but Roy wasn't the dog's owner was he? "And you shouldn't be," she can't help but offer, "he's better behaved, so of course he gets more attention."
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He thinks the idea is hilarious now, oblivious to the baited questions and teasing he receives from their team back home. 'Hey Colonel. Bet you wish the Lieutenant would scratch your belly.' 'Does the Lieutenant ever put a collar or leash on you?' 'Ever get jealous that the dog gets to share a room with her?' among others; just a few of countless comments he has to look forward to remembering.
"Where is he?" Roy realizes. They're far from home, he knows that much. His head hasn't wrapped around the other planet or other technological time period detail yet but what he knows of Amestris does not feel Americana. "Did you bring him with you to Vista City?"
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"Hayate never slacked off on his paperwork. And no, I left him at home." She hadn't been sure if they even had dogs on this planet. The idea of another planet had been enough of a problem to wrap her head around, worrying about her dog would have just compounded things. "I wasn't sure what kind of animals they had here."
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"We're not from anywhere near Americana, are we? Or Terra." If she laughs he might be relieved more than embarrassed.
A waiter comes walking up to the table to check on the woman who had ordered wine before and Roy puts his shock on hold, smiling at the fellow. "I'll be taking care of the bill tonight," he announces. The waiter is more than happy to agree to the wishes of the artist of the night and Roy sends him away to bring more wine. Shortly after, the rest of the bottle is delivered to the table along with another glass.
Roy turns back to Riza and resumes his dumbfounded expression as if the server had never been there, though he does it while taking a sip of wine this time.
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Running a finger down the glass, she sighs, "No, this place is a long way from home. Both physically and ...everything else." There was no telling how much of this she could say and still have him believe her. "Not even Terra, but one of those stars in the sky. I don't know which one, however."
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"It's funny. I shouldn't know how computers work or how it would be possible to travel between planets but I do. I'd be even more shocked by this revelation if I hadn't been force fed an education on Terra's sciences."
On that note, she must have worked hard to make sense of the technology here, and to have traveled between planets when hailing from a world that hadn't even reached the moon yet, her presence says even more than he thought at first.
"Thank you for coming for me, Riza," he says. He smiles painfully; a simple thank you seems like a pitiful response to what she had braved, everything he had said so far was pitiful in comparison for that matter. "And I couldn't even remember your name when we met in the library, even now there's still more I'm missing... I'm sorry I couldn't greet you and thank you like you deserved after your journey. For now all I know to say is thank you, and I want to remember you."
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He was right, though, there was so much he didn't recall yet and she had no idea where to even start. Or if she should. How much danger would it put them in?
"It'll come back to you, but I can answer any questions you have until then."
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"And... alchemy. That's what your father was teaching me, wasn't it? I've started remembering circles and instructions, rules and more chemical facts than I ever studied here- I mean. More than what Pride put into my head." Right. It was Pride, not a real childhood in Americana.
"I actually tried it in private. Just reshaping some metal." Many metals, especially the pure ones, made excellent beginning subjects in alchemy. "It was just a spoon, nothing fancy, but it worked."
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They were still working on fixing relationships with the other countries. After so many centuries of nothing but conflict between them, it was going to take a long time, especially as they couldn't just explain how or why Amestris came to be. So much bloodshed wouldn't be easy to forgive.
She almost corrects him on the whole Pride thing then remembers that's the name of the record label. Right. It looked like they'd never get away from that one in some form or another. "You could say Pride is responsible for a lot of things." There's no explanation there either, just a sad smile as she looks down at her drink.
"The science of understanding, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter based on the law of equivalent exchange. This is alchemy, and yes, it's what you were studying under my father. He taught you everything you needed to for basic alchemy." And I gave you the rest. Riza stops short of saying it as she finishes up the wine in her glass. It was still a hard subject to talk about, even the one person who knew more about it than anyone else. Of course, she never expected to have to explain it all to Roy since he'd seen the worst of it personally.
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He hates to have to ask and hesitates, he could remember the details by himself soon. Questions were already eating away at him since he first started to remember the war while Santiago had him locked up. He needs to know even just a little bit more for context so he can sort out what he saw in his memory.
"What about Ishval?"
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"Ishaval is a region of Amestris. They were annexed a long time ago. There has always been some unrest between the Ishavalans and Amestris." Differences in religious beliefs, among other things, didn't help. And then there was Father's plan...
"Amestris had always been at war with someone, from the first day the country was created. We only recently discovered why, but...the last one was with our own people. With Ishval."
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He drinks some more wine and gives her a smile as he sets the glass down again. Alright. Take it step by step and for the moment, just be thankful she's here.
"I shouldn't have to ask you about these things or struggle to remember your real name." Stating the obvious, and an something with an obvious explanation but this next question sounds so very wrong without an apology of sorts.
"I hate to ask this but... Are we...?" Which word should he use? Married? Together? Lovers? His face starts to turn redder by the second.
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His question has her stumped for a moment as she tries to work out just what would have him blushing like that. It was a strange sight, to be honest, and so it took her longer than it should have to figure out that he was asking about their relationship. Of course, what was he supposed to think with the scattered memories he had. But, oh wasn't that the question of the night?
Riza starts and stops a few times before finally settling on, "It's complicated." Looking down at the table, she attempted to work out how to explain something she's not sure of herself. "We've known each other since you were my father's student. We've been together through the best and worst of times." That didn't really help did it? "You're more important to me than I can explain, Roy. But we're in the military and you're my commanding officer."
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"I'm a military officer, what a stretch from a musician! I should have realized sooner. That's why I'm getting saluted by other soldiers so often in my dreams- in my memories. I must be one of the higher ranks too. What a strange choice of person to kidnap for musical performances. I'd be more useful as a political captive."
"I've gone and made an even bigger mess for you of my own free will too," he says, gesturing up towards to stage. "I'm sorry. You came all this way to do your job and I write an entire album about unprofessional feelings I might not have even told you about. For all I know I'm more like family in your eyes or I'm forgetting your significant other." He doesn't meet her eyes, he can't just yet. If she weren't next to him now he'd be rubbing his face and groaning. Why had he let himself get so caught up in an idealistic fantasy about their relationship? Jecht had been right about going too far.
Oh no. The tattoo. Jecht had warned him about that and he had gone and done it anyway. Roy's smile starts to dim as the terrible realization hits him.
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