08-02-2018, 05:07 PM
”Trusting you to have my back also means trusting you to shoot me if the need arises.”
Riza had hoped she would never have the need to do so. Roy had done well with sticking to his ideals for several years after Ishval. Even when Sergeant Ross had come under suspicion for what happened to Hughes- largely thanks to the homunculi, they suspected- Roy had kept his head. Though he had kept up the appearances of a revenge-driven madman who would incinerate Ross without a trial, for the sake of the plan, he had actually saved her life. He knew as well as anyone else that Ross would never shoot a fellow soldier.
So to see Roy now, threatening to inflict severe burns on a civilian, who clearly suffered from some sort of physical disability in his hind leg- if not the rest of his body- came as something of a shock.
She had seen the civilian before. “Jacob,” she recalled, had showed up in the midst of the Typhoon’s raid to lecture their captain over risking his life, and then to invite Bastilleprisoner to their wedding. He was a strange individual, to be sure, and maybe an eye ought to be kept on him- but he had done nothing so far to deserve being dragged into the Grand Circle and interrogated, and least of all tortured. The Roy that she had sworn to follow into hell, that she had pledged to marry, would never do something like this.
Why was he like this all of a sudden?
She had to find out. Padding into the Grand Circle behind him, turning a deaf ear to the infuriated excuses he was spouting as well as the others’ protests, she reached down and aimed to take hold of him by the scruff, then lift him up and carry him outside. Being larger than he was by a significant margin had its advantages.
Riza had hoped she would never have the need to do so. Roy had done well with sticking to his ideals for several years after Ishval. Even when Sergeant Ross had come under suspicion for what happened to Hughes- largely thanks to the homunculi, they suspected- Roy had kept his head. Though he had kept up the appearances of a revenge-driven madman who would incinerate Ross without a trial, for the sake of the plan, he had actually saved her life. He knew as well as anyone else that Ross would never shoot a fellow soldier.
So to see Roy now, threatening to inflict severe burns on a civilian, who clearly suffered from some sort of physical disability in his hind leg- if not the rest of his body- came as something of a shock.
She had seen the civilian before. “Jacob,” she recalled, had showed up in the midst of the Typhoon’s raid to lecture their captain over risking his life, and then to invite Bastilleprisoner to their wedding. He was a strange individual, to be sure, and maybe an eye ought to be kept on him- but he had done nothing so far to deserve being dragged into the Grand Circle and interrogated, and least of all tortured. The Roy that she had sworn to follow into hell, that she had pledged to marry, would never do something like this.
Why was he like this all of a sudden?
She had to find out. Padding into the Grand Circle behind him, turning a deaf ear to the infuriated excuses he was spouting as well as the others’ protests, she reached down and aimed to take hold of him by the scruff, then lift him up and carry him outside. Being larger than he was by a significant margin had its advantages.
[font=trebuchet ms]some weirdo