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31_days2010-05-15 01:50 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2010-05-15 01:50 pm
[May 15] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Like Water Off a Duck's Back
Title: Like Water Off a Duck's Back
Day/Theme: May 15, 2010 "The freedom of the wholly mad"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Kimblee, Roy
Rating: PG
It was one of those days when it was hard to swallow his dinner. Roy picked slowly at the beans, getting them down deliberately, one bite at a time. If he didn't eat now, he would regret it later, lying awake at night, trying to vanquish the fiery images burned into his mind. The memories burned at the edges, like paper being eaten away all too slowly by a licking flame. They would never turn to ashes. Not now, not in ten years, not as long as he lived. He had etched them himself in a burst of alchemical fire.
Someone approached the table and stopped to stand beside him. Roy wanted to remain in his own world. He didn't look up until he was addressed. "Is this seat taken?" It was Kimblee. He leaned his weight slightly to one side and grinned down at Roy. He looked chipper as ever.
"No, you can sit," Roy relented. A small puff of a sigh escaped his lips. He had no interest in speaking with Kimblee this evening, but it was unlikely that denying his request would've really deterred his fellow alchemist.
Kimblee set down his metal tray with a clank and dug in with good appetite. At least watching him gave Roy something to distract his weary mind with while he worked down the rest of his meal. Kimblee was a pretty good-looking man. It was what was inside him that was poison. Look what sort of company he'd been left with. He missed Maes.
"Are you going to eat that?" Kimblee pointed toward the roll balanced on the edge of Roy's tray.
Roy looked up at his companion and then back down at the tray. Had he really gotten so caught up in his own thoughts that he had stopped eating? "You can have it," he gave in again. He really wasn't that hungry anyway.
Kimblee thanked him with his usual nod and bit a large hunk out of the roll. Roy was continually aware of the presence of his teeth, whether eating or smiling or threatening, they made Kimblee appear very intense, almost grim. It wasn't his teeth that were the core of his oddness though. That honor went to his gleaming, yellow eyes. Roy had never met anyone with a stare like Kimblee's.
"I had a very productive day," Kimblee informed him without prompting after swallowing the lump of bread. "Next time you go out to the Kanda District you can take a look at my handiwork, Mustang. You'll know it when you see it."
"Hmm. I'm sure I will." There was no point in disagreeing. All the destruction Roy hadn't created personally tended to blend together to him, but he supposed there would be some unique hallmarks of Kimblee's free-wheeling touch for him to see there. Out of them all, Kimblee was the only one Roy had spoken to who considered himself an "artist."
"You don't seem yourself tonight, Mustang. Something got you down?"
He didn't want Kimblee's sympathy. It creeped him out. "Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix," he tried to brush away those intent and piercing eyes with a few simple words.
"Oh, well, I hope you sleep better than last night then," Kimblee replied pleasantly, "I heard you were tossing and turning for hours. Making a lot of noise too."
Roy paled, uncomfortable that Kimblee knew about that. Kimblee finished his roll and washed it down with the last of his drink. His tray was clean. He stood up to go and return it to be washed. "In any case, it was nice to chat with you, Mustang," he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "Have a good night."
Day/Theme: May 15, 2010 "The freedom of the wholly mad"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Kimblee, Roy
Rating: PG
It was one of those days when it was hard to swallow his dinner. Roy picked slowly at the beans, getting them down deliberately, one bite at a time. If he didn't eat now, he would regret it later, lying awake at night, trying to vanquish the fiery images burned into his mind. The memories burned at the edges, like paper being eaten away all too slowly by a licking flame. They would never turn to ashes. Not now, not in ten years, not as long as he lived. He had etched them himself in a burst of alchemical fire.
Someone approached the table and stopped to stand beside him. Roy wanted to remain in his own world. He didn't look up until he was addressed. "Is this seat taken?" It was Kimblee. He leaned his weight slightly to one side and grinned down at Roy. He looked chipper as ever.
"No, you can sit," Roy relented. A small puff of a sigh escaped his lips. He had no interest in speaking with Kimblee this evening, but it was unlikely that denying his request would've really deterred his fellow alchemist.
Kimblee set down his metal tray with a clank and dug in with good appetite. At least watching him gave Roy something to distract his weary mind with while he worked down the rest of his meal. Kimblee was a pretty good-looking man. It was what was inside him that was poison. Look what sort of company he'd been left with. He missed Maes.
"Are you going to eat that?" Kimblee pointed toward the roll balanced on the edge of Roy's tray.
Roy looked up at his companion and then back down at the tray. Had he really gotten so caught up in his own thoughts that he had stopped eating? "You can have it," he gave in again. He really wasn't that hungry anyway.
Kimblee thanked him with his usual nod and bit a large hunk out of the roll. Roy was continually aware of the presence of his teeth, whether eating or smiling or threatening, they made Kimblee appear very intense, almost grim. It wasn't his teeth that were the core of his oddness though. That honor went to his gleaming, yellow eyes. Roy had never met anyone with a stare like Kimblee's.
"I had a very productive day," Kimblee informed him without prompting after swallowing the lump of bread. "Next time you go out to the Kanda District you can take a look at my handiwork, Mustang. You'll know it when you see it."
"Hmm. I'm sure I will." There was no point in disagreeing. All the destruction Roy hadn't created personally tended to blend together to him, but he supposed there would be some unique hallmarks of Kimblee's free-wheeling touch for him to see there. Out of them all, Kimblee was the only one Roy had spoken to who considered himself an "artist."
"You don't seem yourself tonight, Mustang. Something got you down?"
He didn't want Kimblee's sympathy. It creeped him out. "Nothing a good night's sleep won't fix," he tried to brush away those intent and piercing eyes with a few simple words.
"Oh, well, I hope you sleep better than last night then," Kimblee replied pleasantly, "I heard you were tossing and turning for hours. Making a lot of noise too."
Roy paled, uncomfortable that Kimblee knew about that. Kimblee finished his roll and washed it down with the last of his drink. His tray was clean. He stood up to go and return it to be washed. "In any case, it was nice to chat with you, Mustang," he gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, "Have a good night."