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tampered2006-06-02 01:54 pm
wanton-turk.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-06-02 01:54 pm
Log; completed pt 1
When; Chu Chu Day ♥
Rating; PG (only for part 1)
Characters; Roy & Reno
Summary; Reno challenges Roy to a drinking contest earlier and the date they decided on was May 31st, unknowingly it being the same day as 'Chu Chu Day', and things fallapart from there. (and the song that plays mid-way through the log can be found here)
Log;
Building 3, Apartment 9. Right. It was only a few more flights above him, or so Reno hoped. Though that would make far too much sense and after all and last time Reno checked; this place didn't make sense what so ever. And if it any of it starting to make any coherent and logical sense, then he was certain it was time for the apocalypse to rear its ugly head. Making his way up the stairs a step at a time, Reno mentally prepared himself for his first real drinking contest in this new world against... uh. Who was the brash Turk going up against?
All he remembered reading about his challenger was that he liked fire, could do some sort of alchemy shebang, or was some sort of arsonist. Reno put his money, if he had any, on the latter. Like it matter anyways, the Turk was going to beat this guy in no time flat. No one's has ever been able to out drink Reno of the Turks. No one. Not Rude. Not Tseng, though he probably couldn't out drink a five year old child. Not Elena, who for a woman could drink circles around mountains before having 'too much'.
"Ah. Here we go. Apartment 9 of Building 3." Raising a knuckle to the door, the fiery Turk gave a short and choppy rap on the door. 'Shall we get this party started?' he mused to himself as he waited for the door to open. 'I just hope that this party doesn't get too boring just before it begins.' He continued as he remembered the last drinking contest he'd witnessed. It wasn't anything spectacular. All of them must still have had their functioning livers and other inner organs. Not like Reno's organs weren't functioning, just that his liver was best in a pickle jar full of formaldehyde than actually inside of the fiery Turk.
The illustrious Flame Alchemist was already one step ahead of the game (as he often preferred to be), bustling about his new territory in preparation. He had no need to restock the cabinets as it appeared the former tenant was rather fond of the finer things in life -- namely liquor. The sudden rapping at his door called Mustang away from checking inventory -- the commanding officer almost too lazily sauntering toward the ingression. Once he'd reached his target, the portal eased ajar with withheld caution.
Roy, naturally, was not so easily trusting in a foreign environment; everyone according to the Colonel was guilty until proven innocent. It was his inflated arrogance that maintained that poker face of his -- not to mention his seemingly unflappable danger, even in questionable company. Bolstered by his overbearing confidence, Roy thrust a gloved hand out before his form filled the entrance. "You're a brave man for coming here without even knowing your rival's name. Colonel Roy Mustang." The still-uniformed officer leaned into the doorframe with an impish smirk as salutations. "I have... a lot to drink. Come in."
Unfazed by the sudden and immediate introduction Reno introduced himself his trademark grin plastered on his face, "Reno. I'm a Turk, and I'd be more than happy to come into your home and swig away your drinks..." A Colonel, eh? Well that changed the playing grounds; military personal were usually used to the finer taste of the alcohol spectrum, which was a mixed blessing. For it would mean that Reno would be definitely enjoying the drinks he was about to get tonight, and that he would be dealing with someone who was most likely used to those finer and heavier drinks. A change of game play was in need of immediate action!
Causally his hands jammed into his coat pockets, the Turk helped himself into the dwelling of the ever so proud Colonel taking eyefuls of his decor. It was an odd montage of various things that Reno hadn't seen except in history book, all those four times he looked through them waiting for Tseng to shut his trap and just let them go on that stupid mission. "Quite a place you've got here..." Reno commented walking deeper into the room. "So where is our lovely little challenge gonna be taken place, Mister Colonel Sir?"
Deep, tenebrous catlike oculars followed the redheaded man as he brushed past into the establishment, gauging his manner through his manner and flair of movement. Sizing up the enemy so to speak. Oak barricade closed behind, the cunning soldier swept an arm offhandedly toward the array of bottles lined up along the tile countertop. "I even got myself a mini bar with the deal. Take your pick and we'll get started. Personally... I go for martinis, but I seem to have the essentials: whiskey, vodka... even chardonnay."
Noncommittal shrug coupled by a brief bout of good-natured laughter. Retracing his steps toward the placement of stools, the brazen man perched primly, peeled off gloves (he had finally located) and set to work on mixing drinks. "I wish I could take credit for this place. Most of it isn't mine to begin with, but... I won't be changing any of it. Whoever had it before me had good taste." Good taste indeed. The previous owner did not spare a dime on the motif. Black and white leather furnishing, ornate onyx coffee table, and plush crimson rug. It was an exquisite monochrome pattern overlaid with hints of red and silver on a whole. Roy's velvet tone muffled as his back was turned from the appraising Turk.
"So, Reno -- any idea how you got to city?"
"Martinis? My good man, we're having a drinkin' contest here not some fine dinning ballroom bash!" Or perhaps the redhead wouldn't need to take a second guess at his previous game plan. "Vodka. Straight Vodka will be my poison of choice, thank you." How smart of a choice this would be, Reno could only tell in time. Normally he wouldn't take the whole thing straight, it as much too strong and burnt way too much for him to handle, but his current situation and lack of a certain blonde was driving him off the edge. Especially today. He had such a strong hankering to find his blonde bombshell and lay a good one right on the lips.
Then again, he felt the same thing for the dear ole Colonel that he just met, which was an enigma in itself. Reno wasn't the type that would 'lay a good one' on a person that he'd just met, sober at least. Drunk was another question. Alcohol, no matter how used to it a person was, still makes you wish you drank a little more just so that you couldn't remember what you did the pervious night.
"And as for the city...Not quite. All I remember before finding my good for nothing carcass here was being at some party. You?" Reno looked over to the dark haired man. Nope. Not his type. "You look like an awfully and very important person to me after all...being a Colonel to boot."
Snorting indignantly, the viciously charismatic Colonel swiveled about on his seat -- murky optics aglow with mirth which bled through a seemingly permanently intact smirk. "Vodka? And here I pegged you a whiskey lover." Navy-clad shoulders sagged in a facile shrug before he shifted to pick the bottle out of the motley selection along with two shot glasses. Truth be told, Mustang was relishing the company -- be it friend or foe. He could hardly make heads or tails of this ludicrous world they found themselves hopelessly stranded and caged within. Any opportunity to mingle with "other worlders" offered some faraway sense of solace to the forlorn Colonel who was hanging on by a thread to his own sanity with each grueling day that passed without a lead or a scrap of optimism to buoy his lapsing faith. "I... ah, not sure if you're familiar with alchemy...but I think that is how I got here."
Had the roguish Turk noticed in his haste into Roy's domain, he might have caught sight of the peculiar circle scrawled in the entryway where a "welcome" mat may normally have been spread -- another one of Mustang's underhanded tactics in case an uninvited visitor attempted infiltration. Divvying up the clear substance, he beckoned Reno over enthusiastically. "Call me Roy. I'm not much of a Colonel anymore to be honest. But... enough small talk. You came here for a reason after all." His devious grin bared a hint of teeth, feral and quietly biding his time like the classic hunter on the prowl. There was something addictive about these reckless redheads that Mustang found himself weakening to. He shook his head, admonishing the perverse direction his own thoughts.
Whiskey, really now. Did he really look like that kind of a person? Whiskey didn't burn enough for him. In his mind, the best drinks were the ones that made you feel like you had just burned your throat and committed some form of suicide. "Oh really? Vodka's my kind of poison you know... especially the hotter it makes you feel." he rested his head onto folded hands. "Alchemy? I think I read about that stuff in a book once. It's about how to turn ordinary metals into gold right?" Reno replied crystalline eyes' gaze glossed over by a film called thought.
Head in the clouds drifting ever higher, that was the Turk's current status. What in the world was coming over him? He knew that despite all his jokes and fun fanfare, he'd never look at anyone else with the same desire and wanting as he had for his blonde bombshell. The hell? What was wrong with him?! Reno was a one stop train, damnit. Seriously, life got a whole lot more complicated after the whole Haro swarm for him. With this stupid servitude that he was bond to for another two more days and nights. How the redhead had managed so long, was even a mystery to the Turk.
But that would have to wait for another night, tonight he was about to win this duel hardcore. "We can continue the chit-chat during the competition... it's time for some serious business, wouldn't you agree, Roy?" Reno returned the catty smile with his own libertine cocky grin. Baring his own fangs and moving a hand towards on of the shot glasses to claim the one he would be using.
"Yes it is. But where I come from alchemy is a more...communized practice. It's used for a variety of things. Technically, alchemy is used as an art of conservation in my world, so we are not allowed to turn lead into gold. It's against the principle of equal trade." The impassioned scientist promptly bit his lip, stemming the affluent flow of alchemical mumbo-jumbo for the sake of his company. Coal eyes peered distantly over the vermillion-crowned Turk's head through the wide, unobstructed window; the view was exquisite.
Voice almost faraway to his own ears as he slowly found the ground of clarity once again. "... I prefer vodka too. I like the drinks I can make with it." Righting his slumping posture, the Colonel nonchalantly shrugged out of his uniform jacket before fixing the pretty thing with a heavy-lidded stare and a sharp, snide smirk. "How many shots does it take for you to start feeling it?" Roy had already thrown his first glass back, setting the pace of their game -- the familiar burn awakening his sluggish senses instantly.
A world where alchemy actually existed, huh? Now there's a place Reno wouldn't mind living for a few days or months, hell, he could get trapped there if the powers allowed him. "Conservation? Are you serious?" That sounded nothing but a bunch of bull. Who actually would use alchemy honestly all the time? "Equal trade..." Reno dwelled on that very idea alone as he watched Roy take a swig of his shot glass. The idea spoke of every action having a sole reaction or maybe even reactions that would be equal in value as the previous action. So somehow this was suppose to explain Reno's hardships? His struggles? His life?
What had he gained from it all anyways? A blonde messiah that he looked up and loved more than he could verbally say or physically demonstrate. He'd give up his life for him, wasn't that enough? Somehow it didn't sit well with the Turk. "...my ass." the redhead finally announced pouring himself a glass. "And about how many glasses? I wouldn't know... I don't normally drink from the glass. I just take the bottle and chug the thing itself." Just as the glass had been filled to the brim filled with the burning liquid, it was gone in a flash. Reno licked his lips in an almost lustful manner, he was gonna enjoy every drop of the stuff.
Roy hardly had the energy or will required to wrestle with Reno over whose ideology would prevail. Instead, he wordlessly plied the comely redhead with a second helping of vodka. "I won't tell you that I believe in the doctrine. It sounds puerile to me because there is no realistic way to ensure you get what you give. There is no perfect law because nothing is perfect. Or black and white as I have learned from being an alchemist and serving the state..." If Roy bought the idea that the reaction would equate the action, then he would not be where he was today -- whether the result was good or bad. The very thought perturbed him more than he had realized through tightly grit teeth. The Colonel strove to fulfill dreams that meant nothing more than ashes from an extinguished flame here in this wonderland city. All of his efforts and all of his tribulation reduced to memories only manifested in the shiny badges pinned to his coat crumpled discarded on the floor.
"Then by all means don't let me stunt you. I have plenty of bottles." The distressed expression he wasn't aware he donned thawed out and cooled in the light of a wry grin as the subject steered toward shallow water. As much as Roy detested this situation, he had to admit that in time he might actually be capable of adjusting to the malicious city that held them all captive. The prim-pressed man swept around the bar to fetch another bottle... or two. And once he'd emerged with the opened receptacle, the Flame Alchemist cautiously paced himself in consuming its contents -- knowing full well what drinking too quickly will do to even the toughest vessel.
"With logic like that, it'd be possible to bring back a person if you had the right materials. Though I suppose that's taboo because the only way that there could be anything equal to a human life is another human life." his grin was ever growing in its devilish qualities and Reno's eyes seemed to be filled with things other than just lust for a good challenge. Something else that few others saw. Desire perhaps? Yes? No? Maybe? Who knows, the day was weird enough as it is without the aid of alcohol to add in its own spell of disaster. The desire to give the dark haired man a test on how experienced he was in other areas was certainly not something that ran through the Turk's mind despite what his reputation might say.
Reno eyes Roy as he grabbed another bottle and opened it. Take it slow and steady for a sure win or risk it and drive his prissy military ass into the ground? Choices were to be made as the bottle's top came off. Crystalline eyes examined his empty glass; maybe taking it slow wasn't so bad for this time. He still wanted to talk to the Flame Alchemist after all, especially since their worlds differed greatly, there would be a lot to talk about. "Nah. It's okay... I think I'll go slow just for you, since it's been a while since I've had someone to talk to." With that said, Reno poured himself another glassful of his sin of choice. 'Burn me baby ♥' his mind sang as the fermented liquid spilled into the small goblet.
"In any news, I think it's your turn to drink..." Tainted eyes ever challenging those before them focused their gaze upon Roy's dark pools. 'Burn me baby. Make me fear that touch of yours.'
That kind of quick-witted deduction startled the Colonel off-guard. It wasn't every day that someone unattuned to the arcane ways of alchemy would come to such an enlightened conclusion. "You're sharp. There's more upstairs than red hair and pretty eyes after all." Did he just say that? Apparently, judging by the mischievous grin sprawled across liquor-slaked lips. And when the impish Turk so graciously complied to a leisurely drink-off, fine-spun brows perked in open intrigue -- a teasing edge to his velvet-smooth tone. "Oh? I'm flattered." In reality, however, he genuinely was flattered to find almost serendipitous appealing companionship in what was initially a fueled contending to his conceited claim.
Now, as Mustang sauntered behind the Turk en route to his original perch, fingertips purposely brushed the redhead's side... under an accidental pretense. And he wondered briefly if this challenge had become something more... underhanded? The sleighty alchemist at last descended elixir in hand. Lighthearted needling aside, he opted for serious questions while coherency remained. "Have you come across anyone from your own world here?" And, as directed, the snarky man obliged -- but with a wine glass rather than a shot glass. Shots would go to his head too swiftly, and with piqued curiosity the commanding officer wanted to cling to clarity as long as possible if only to delve a bit deeper into Reno's interesting, seemingly stashed intelligence.
Oh man, did he really come off like that? Sure he knew that he came off loud, obnoxious and even irresponsible, but stupid? Oh come on, idiots didn't make it into being a Turk especially one that was as high up as he was. The redhead let out a chuckle and scratched the back of his head...wait. Pretty eyes? Reno wanted to shoot Roy a look, but decided to let it slide. Of course he was more than red hair and pretty eyes, though his eyes weren't pretty they were sexy. But that would have to wait for another time. "Of course I'm more than what I look like. My boss didn't hire me just because I look good, you know." Reno tossed his head aside and leaned back in his chair allowing the skin of his neck to show. "But lookin' good doesn't help." His eyes gave off subliminal messages of, 'Hey baby why don't you come a little closer?' and 'I've got some things I'd like to show you ♥'
Dangerous. Oh so dangerous was the territory Reno was approaching, but he couldn't help himself from getting closer. Then Roy's question came, the one that'd be his saving grace, if one could really call it such. "Yeah... a few people. None that matter too much in particular..." his voiced trailed off. A laugh. "Well, that's a lie. There's one person that makes this place worthwhile..." Fondness spread over the Turk's usual cynical face and a soft smile accompanied by an even softer chuckle. What a jerk. Here he was crushing all over again, and the blonde wasn't even anywhere in sight. Some messiah. Some bastard. "How 'bout you? Anyone you know popped up in this questionable hell?"
Bring me need, bring me fire... Everything about Reno exuded seduction -- a brand of seduction that Roy knew like the back of his hand because it nearly mirrored his own maneuvers. Lackadaisical, slow-burning, calculated, outwardly disinterested but inwardly ardent. Or was he misreading the sultry rogue altogether? Nevertheless, Reno's loose, lax posture invited-- no, demanded Mustang's undiverted attention. Everybody knows that it's me or you now. Sooty lashes cast shadows across flawless ivory cheekbones, shuttering piceous optics absorbing the casual picture Reno made as he gently queried: "And what exactly did your boss hire you to do?" He witnessed Reno's visage as it softened substantially, but he held his tongue against the bombarding questions that begged answering. He shrugged it off, literally, and groped for the harsh sanctum of their favorite poison. The next injection eased his muscles and quelled his frazzled mind -- gradually watering down rationale... but it would take a few more to unhinge the well-founded Flame Alchemist. "Only one who I don't care to ever see again... I heard rumors of someone I know and care about here... but I have yet to locate him. It could just be that -- a rumor." Pessimism besmirched the usual glide of his inflection, pinching brows in a disgruntled furrow. Another shot followed a sigh heaved from somewhere deep and untouchable within. "This place has everything I could ever want... but I don't want any of it... y'know?" Oops, did he just slur? Not yet. Too soon.
Pressing the crystal to his lips and quickly sucking the substance from within this container ever licking his lips and his fingers as droplets sprinkled onto their length each time Reno refilled his glass. 'Don't you want to play with me?' Reno's eyes spoke again fluttering slowly as to lull the opposing figure into a lustful sleep. 'I've got lots of toys you'd enjoy' Another bat of those captivating eyes of his. '...won't you play with me?' Subliminal and unintended. Reno himself didn't agree with any of the messages that his eyes had been sending off into unknown lands. Frightening almost. To be able to make a person want you without even really thinking about it. 'Baby, flirt with me... show me your fire.'
"Mm? I was hired to be a TURK, and I guess you could see me as a jack of all trades." a soft smile replaced the wicked smirk from earlier. Fondness? Perhaps. "Though my specialty is hijacking, emissary and assassination" There was a heavy emphasis on the word 'assassination'. Murder definitely wasn't a questionable topic for him; it was more like, why, who and where? Not so much the 'why' either. Reno did his job with the utmost loyalty. He was proud to be a Turk, and would do anything necessary to protect his fellow comrades and especially his boss. Well trained ears caught Roy's slur. "Oh? Losing it already?" Another smile. "Yeah...though this place's given me something that makes me want to stay..." Reno's eyes diverted from the body before him and darted to the ground. As if he was embarrassed of his words.
I know your ways...because they are just like mine. Roy couldn't help but admire the silver-tongued mercenary's confidence. Reno held himself with undisputed aplomb -- refined but menacing all at once. A lethal kind of pulchritude, Roy declared as he tore his riveted gaze from the vermillion centerfold in all of his suggestive cupidity. It was simply too much too soon for the man who still scuffled with accepting his wavering sexuality. Promptly clearing his throat--as if it would dissipate his own depraved thoughts--the Colonel's wander lusting vigil dawned on his pyrotechnic gloves he'd previously shed laying disregarded but not forgotten on the countertop.
"Assassin? You do what you must, I suppose." Though he couldn't... really concur ever since Ishbal. Dexterous digits ploughed through pitch-black shocks -- head wagging in stern denial. "You wish." He wished his voice wasn't so thick and husky all of a sudden. Feline eyes again found the redhead who grew increasingly alluring by the minute... Those damnable cobalt whorls easily magnetized, and the effortless spell of their pull perturbed the otherwise unflappable Mustang. But it did not deter him from grinning lewdly -- ill intent written all over marble features. "And who makes you want to stay?" He'd zeroed in on the underlying chagrin -- body inclining surreptitiously toward the Turk to catch a better view. This was getting better and better, and our resident Flame Alchemist was downright hungry for satisfaction. But of what sort?
"It's not like it's a bad thing you know..." Reno commented his eyes still darted back and forth from Roy and the ground still rather stuck on his latest words. Working for ShinRa was his pride and joy, especially since it marked his escape from the Slums. Oh how Reno hated that place. Abuse. Drugs. Faux families. Sell outs covered in children's blood. Reno hated there. ShinRa wasn't a heaven either; the Turk had to fight his way from being taken back to that horrid place of debauchery and abuse. If there was a place that would be considered 'hell' then that would be a place deep inside and hidden from the world. Shoved into a dark corner of his mind. That was hell. "...don't get me wrong. It's not like I go around killing everyone I'm assigned. And I do wish. Very often in fact. Of course not about the same reasons each time… "
Then a change in pace as Roy asked another question. Who was making him stay? It was an easy question to answer. The very person that employed him and ironically saved him from hell only to help him cause more for others. Life really was a bitch, and one that Reno really wished would just shut up and take some medication for that PMS of her's. But for the answer? How would he go about it? Technically he wasn’t suppose to speak about this to anyone else, but his sin was flooding his thoughts. Eyeing his glass once more, Reno took another swig before answering. "A person that means more to me than anyone could ever reason...." Tainted. Cursed. Libertine eyes shot a glance into depths of darkness, firmly taking a hold of whatever was there. Pulling it. ‘Tell me why I feel this way?' Grasping it. 'It hurts.' Making it addicted to it's gaze. 'It's almost too painful to bare.'
"How do you get around that? Not killing everyone you are ordered to kill?" A gilt edge entered his once airy tone, stretching the Colonel's temper thinner than he would have preferred. But the topic in itself beleaguered the touchy military man who couldn't bring himself to take another life unnecessarily -- a man who poured his life into climbing the proverbial ladder to the stars in order to break the mold and change the world. It was a bit idealistic of him as a logical man, but so was the basic rudiment of Amestris' alchemy until one was able to see the Technicolor in the black and white structure. There were always loopholes... even in the most airtight absolute.
And Roy had long since abandoned his disillusionment when he discovered how the military truly worked behind closed doors and trussed-up formalities. "...mm." He had little to offer the Turk -- midnight whirlpools lost in the slosh of colorless alcohol within its confinement. He only snapped to when he detected a note of heartfelt sincerity to which he answered with a wistful smile of his own. "I know that feeling. It's... been a long time, but... I know that feeling..." Charcoal braided unfaltering gazes with rhapsodical sapphire, and he was hopelessly spellbound. What mawkish drunks... or were they? "... do you dance?" Oh, this could be an interesting turn of events.
"Simply saying that I won't do it." Reno answered bluntly waving a hand in the air like it wasn't a big deal. "And if they give me trouble for not wanting to do it, I'd kick their asses for making me." His voice was crisp and sharp and his eyes narrowed with a silent acrimony. If only looks could kill, Roy Mustang would be a stain on a wall right about now. "I'm not some dog that's gonna get ordered around by some fat-asses that like to watch my hands get dirtier as I spill some blood for their own personal enjoyment." Though the new president never made Reno kill anyone he dubbed useless or pointless, his beliefs stood true. Course Reno would always suffer from server punishments and demotions for actions like these, but he didn't care. The Turk was not about to get on his fours, begging for promotions or doing every little thing that they told him to do becoming some flea-bitten dog in the process. If he wanted that then he would have stayed back down in the Slums. No one was about to tell this Turk what to do, or would do.
But just as the fire within Reno ignited in a blaze of glory, it dwindled down into a mere match light burning up its last bits of fuel. And so, lucid eyes mourned for a lost unrenowned to their master. "He's....a bastard you know. A really big one." The usual fiery personality seemed lost in the undercurrent of unspoken emotions brought to the surface by the drinks. It almost made Reno consider to stop feeding himself such sin, but the thought went as soon as it came. "But I'd give my life for him." 'And again and again. As many times I needed. I would.' spoke his eyes. Thanks to Roy’s random and incongruous question, as quickly as the sudden angst washed over Reno, it receded leaving an unfazed but rather amused smirk behind. "Dance? Are we having a party now? What happened to our little drinking contest?" Needless to say, Reno stood up with his glass still in hand ready to show off his moves.
The bemused Flame Alchemist listened intently, bearing the vehement storm with steadfast poise and an infuriatingly undisturbed poker face. He'd heard passionate rebukes like this before, and the Turk's irascible professions and his roiling yet wounded eyes reminded Roy of a sin-encumbered, indomitably spirited youth he had once known (and guiltily loved). The flared-up redhead's retaliation seemed to penetrate the Colonel's stony facade, under thick skin and straight home -- an eerie echo of the beliefs he used to stand adamantly behind before he entered the service. Sacrificing pride and dignity, bowing and scraping, compromising himself as a sycophant with clipped salutes and mechanical formalities. Anything it would take to build that ladder to the stars. He started at the bottom with nothing but a vague, impossible dream and endured grueling work and shameful servility like the flea-bitten dog Reno alluded to. He'd established himself by the rank, propped up by loyal comrades and an inflating reputation with each promotion. It may have seemed like an ignominious path to destiny, but for all of the abuse, mind games, superiority complexes and ruthlessness, Roy Mustang had taken the reins and fulfilled a promise to himself that at a closer look was not selfish but selfless. But when you worked for the government, motives had to be concealed -- lest they be exploited and crushed. But that didn't numb the bitter ache Reno's cutting response left in its wake. He practically winced.
"Not everyone has the guts and fortitude you do to refuse... is why I asked..." Reno had successfully exhausted the Colonel without even lifting a finger. He was wilted and merely shook his head mutely as the Turk continued on. "I can understand that... I can understand all of it..." Roy, docile and recumbent, gazed blearily into his empty glass before fingertips rose to pinkened cheeks -- evident indication of inebriation. But no sooner could he return to reality with his own reprisal, Reno was standing before him. Only then did his washed-out expression take on a devious guise.
"My roommate doesn't like to dance... and I so miss having a partner." Ah, so it was ballroom dancing? Rising in one fluid motion, Roy collected his gloves and stashed them in the recesses of pockets. "You can drink and dance can't you?" Smiiiirk.
After the words had left Reno's mouth, there lay before him a broken man. Had his words really done that much damage? Had this Colonel been one of those low-life dogs that Reno especially loved to kick once they were down on their luck? Step on their broken limbs and rub salt in their fresh, fresh wounds? Use their blood to paint portraits of their foolishness and disgrace of even being in the skin of a human being? The Turk hated nothing than those that listened to rules blindly, and refused to muster up the courage to stand up for their beliefs. Not like he was a noble person, the redhead would bash any person's head in or rip families apart one member at a time if given the right incentives. Reno was a man of many talents, morals and lack of morals. He'd kill not for money but for the thrill and the challenge. Though the thrill alone didn't mean he would kill just anyone. He was an oxymoron in the making. Living. Breathing. Breaking.
"Then I suggest people start learning how. It's not that hard really. It's only an order if you want it to be." Hard, cold eyes not usually seen unless he was on one of his missions, returned to a porcelain face decorated by crimson threads and deep blood marks cheek bones to accent what was there. 'Untouchable. I'm untouchable.' His face. His pose. Everything about the Turk. That's how it all read. "Not that hard you know... not hard to break and order, defy all what you thought you believed in. Guess kinda become your own god and carve yourself a new destiny if it sucks." Crossing his arms for a moment, Reno scratched the back of his neck and looked at his empty glass. Of all times to be empty. Reno needed a drink after spouting all of that semi-self righteous crap. He could barely believe what he said.
Though Roy's quick interruption came as a pleasant mood breaker. Brooding was certainly something the Turk did not enjoy doing. It made him feel like soft or worse, like Cloud. "Didn't I tell you I was a jack of all trades?" a wicked smirk growing on his face. "Drinkin' and dancin' are nothing..." With that all said and done, the redhead held out a hand to the alchemist. "Shall I demonstrate some of them for you?"
Rating; PG (only for part 1)
Characters; Roy & Reno
Summary; Reno challenges Roy to a drinking contest earlier and the date they decided on was May 31st, unknowingly it being the same day as 'Chu Chu Day', and things fall
Log;
Building 3, Apartment 9. Right. It was only a few more flights above him, or so Reno hoped. Though that would make far too much sense and after all and last time Reno checked; this place didn't make sense what so ever. And if it any of it starting to make any coherent and logical sense, then he was certain it was time for the apocalypse to rear its ugly head. Making his way up the stairs a step at a time, Reno mentally prepared himself for his first real drinking contest in this new world against... uh. Who was the brash Turk going up against?
All he remembered reading about his challenger was that he liked fire, could do some sort of alchemy shebang, or was some sort of arsonist. Reno put his money, if he had any, on the latter. Like it matter anyways, the Turk was going to beat this guy in no time flat. No one's has ever been able to out drink Reno of the Turks. No one. Not Rude. Not Tseng, though he probably couldn't out drink a five year old child. Not Elena, who for a woman could drink circles around mountains before having 'too much'.
"Ah. Here we go. Apartment 9 of Building 3." Raising a knuckle to the door, the fiery Turk gave a short and choppy rap on the door. 'Shall we get this party started?' he mused to himself as he waited for the door to open. 'I just hope that this party doesn't get too boring just before it begins.' He continued as he remembered the last drinking contest he'd witnessed. It wasn't anything spectacular. All of them must still have had their functioning livers and other inner organs. Not like Reno's organs weren't functioning, just that his liver was best in a pickle jar full of formaldehyde than actually inside of the fiery Turk.
The illustrious Flame Alchemist was already one step ahead of the game (as he often preferred to be), bustling about his new territory in preparation. He had no need to restock the cabinets as it appeared the former tenant was rather fond of the finer things in life -- namely liquor. The sudden rapping at his door called Mustang away from checking inventory -- the commanding officer almost too lazily sauntering toward the ingression. Once he'd reached his target, the portal eased ajar with withheld caution.
Roy, naturally, was not so easily trusting in a foreign environment; everyone according to the Colonel was guilty until proven innocent. It was his inflated arrogance that maintained that poker face of his -- not to mention his seemingly unflappable danger, even in questionable company. Bolstered by his overbearing confidence, Roy thrust a gloved hand out before his form filled the entrance. "You're a brave man for coming here without even knowing your rival's name. Colonel Roy Mustang." The still-uniformed officer leaned into the doorframe with an impish smirk as salutations. "I have... a lot to drink. Come in."
Unfazed by the sudden and immediate introduction Reno introduced himself his trademark grin plastered on his face, "Reno. I'm a Turk, and I'd be more than happy to come into your home and swig away your drinks..." A Colonel, eh? Well that changed the playing grounds; military personal were usually used to the finer taste of the alcohol spectrum, which was a mixed blessing. For it would mean that Reno would be definitely enjoying the drinks he was about to get tonight, and that he would be dealing with someone who was most likely used to those finer and heavier drinks. A change of game play was in need of immediate action!
Causally his hands jammed into his coat pockets, the Turk helped himself into the dwelling of the ever so proud Colonel taking eyefuls of his decor. It was an odd montage of various things that Reno hadn't seen except in history book, all those four times he looked through them waiting for Tseng to shut his trap and just let them go on that stupid mission. "Quite a place you've got here..." Reno commented walking deeper into the room. "So where is our lovely little challenge gonna be taken place, Mister Colonel Sir?"
Deep, tenebrous catlike oculars followed the redheaded man as he brushed past into the establishment, gauging his manner through his manner and flair of movement. Sizing up the enemy so to speak. Oak barricade closed behind, the cunning soldier swept an arm offhandedly toward the array of bottles lined up along the tile countertop. "I even got myself a mini bar with the deal. Take your pick and we'll get started. Personally... I go for martinis, but I seem to have the essentials: whiskey, vodka... even chardonnay."
Noncommittal shrug coupled by a brief bout of good-natured laughter. Retracing his steps toward the placement of stools, the brazen man perched primly, peeled off gloves (he had finally located) and set to work on mixing drinks. "I wish I could take credit for this place. Most of it isn't mine to begin with, but... I won't be changing any of it. Whoever had it before me had good taste." Good taste indeed. The previous owner did not spare a dime on the motif. Black and white leather furnishing, ornate onyx coffee table, and plush crimson rug. It was an exquisite monochrome pattern overlaid with hints of red and silver on a whole. Roy's velvet tone muffled as his back was turned from the appraising Turk.
"So, Reno -- any idea how you got to city?"
"Martinis? My good man, we're having a drinkin' contest here not some fine dinning ballroom bash!" Or perhaps the redhead wouldn't need to take a second guess at his previous game plan. "Vodka. Straight Vodka will be my poison of choice, thank you." How smart of a choice this would be, Reno could only tell in time. Normally he wouldn't take the whole thing straight, it as much too strong and burnt way too much for him to handle, but his current situation and lack of a certain blonde was driving him off the edge. Especially today. He had such a strong hankering to find his blonde bombshell and lay a good one right on the lips.
Then again, he felt the same thing for the dear ole Colonel that he just met, which was an enigma in itself. Reno wasn't the type that would 'lay a good one' on a person that he'd just met, sober at least. Drunk was another question. Alcohol, no matter how used to it a person was, still makes you wish you drank a little more just so that you couldn't remember what you did the pervious night.
"And as for the city...Not quite. All I remember before finding my good for nothing carcass here was being at some party. You?" Reno looked over to the dark haired man. Nope. Not his type. "You look like an awfully and very important person to me after all...being a Colonel to boot."
Snorting indignantly, the viciously charismatic Colonel swiveled about on his seat -- murky optics aglow with mirth which bled through a seemingly permanently intact smirk. "Vodka? And here I pegged you a whiskey lover." Navy-clad shoulders sagged in a facile shrug before he shifted to pick the bottle out of the motley selection along with two shot glasses. Truth be told, Mustang was relishing the company -- be it friend or foe. He could hardly make heads or tails of this ludicrous world they found themselves hopelessly stranded and caged within. Any opportunity to mingle with "other worlders" offered some faraway sense of solace to the forlorn Colonel who was hanging on by a thread to his own sanity with each grueling day that passed without a lead or a scrap of optimism to buoy his lapsing faith. "I... ah, not sure if you're familiar with alchemy...but I think that is how I got here."
Had the roguish Turk noticed in his haste into Roy's domain, he might have caught sight of the peculiar circle scrawled in the entryway where a "welcome" mat may normally have been spread -- another one of Mustang's underhanded tactics in case an uninvited visitor attempted infiltration. Divvying up the clear substance, he beckoned Reno over enthusiastically. "Call me Roy. I'm not much of a Colonel anymore to be honest. But... enough small talk. You came here for a reason after all." His devious grin bared a hint of teeth, feral and quietly biding his time like the classic hunter on the prowl. There was something addictive about these reckless redheads that Mustang found himself weakening to. He shook his head, admonishing the perverse direction his own thoughts.
Whiskey, really now. Did he really look like that kind of a person? Whiskey didn't burn enough for him. In his mind, the best drinks were the ones that made you feel like you had just burned your throat and committed some form of suicide. "Oh really? Vodka's my kind of poison you know... especially the hotter it makes you feel." he rested his head onto folded hands. "Alchemy? I think I read about that stuff in a book once. It's about how to turn ordinary metals into gold right?" Reno replied crystalline eyes' gaze glossed over by a film called thought.
Head in the clouds drifting ever higher, that was the Turk's current status. What in the world was coming over him? He knew that despite all his jokes and fun fanfare, he'd never look at anyone else with the same desire and wanting as he had for his blonde bombshell. The hell? What was wrong with him?! Reno was a one stop train, damnit. Seriously, life got a whole lot more complicated after the whole Haro swarm for him. With this stupid servitude that he was bond to for another two more days and nights. How the redhead had managed so long, was even a mystery to the Turk.
But that would have to wait for another night, tonight he was about to win this duel hardcore. "We can continue the chit-chat during the competition... it's time for some serious business, wouldn't you agree, Roy?" Reno returned the catty smile with his own libertine cocky grin. Baring his own fangs and moving a hand towards on of the shot glasses to claim the one he would be using.
"Yes it is. But where I come from alchemy is a more...communized practice. It's used for a variety of things. Technically, alchemy is used as an art of conservation in my world, so we are not allowed to turn lead into gold. It's against the principle of equal trade." The impassioned scientist promptly bit his lip, stemming the affluent flow of alchemical mumbo-jumbo for the sake of his company. Coal eyes peered distantly over the vermillion-crowned Turk's head through the wide, unobstructed window; the view was exquisite.
Voice almost faraway to his own ears as he slowly found the ground of clarity once again. "... I prefer vodka too. I like the drinks I can make with it." Righting his slumping posture, the Colonel nonchalantly shrugged out of his uniform jacket before fixing the pretty thing with a heavy-lidded stare and a sharp, snide smirk. "How many shots does it take for you to start feeling it?" Roy had already thrown his first glass back, setting the pace of their game -- the familiar burn awakening his sluggish senses instantly.
A world where alchemy actually existed, huh? Now there's a place Reno wouldn't mind living for a few days or months, hell, he could get trapped there if the powers allowed him. "Conservation? Are you serious?" That sounded nothing but a bunch of bull. Who actually would use alchemy honestly all the time? "Equal trade..." Reno dwelled on that very idea alone as he watched Roy take a swig of his shot glass. The idea spoke of every action having a sole reaction or maybe even reactions that would be equal in value as the previous action. So somehow this was suppose to explain Reno's hardships? His struggles? His life?
What had he gained from it all anyways? A blonde messiah that he looked up and loved more than he could verbally say or physically demonstrate. He'd give up his life for him, wasn't that enough? Somehow it didn't sit well with the Turk. "...my ass." the redhead finally announced pouring himself a glass. "And about how many glasses? I wouldn't know... I don't normally drink from the glass. I just take the bottle and chug the thing itself." Just as the glass had been filled to the brim filled with the burning liquid, it was gone in a flash. Reno licked his lips in an almost lustful manner, he was gonna enjoy every drop of the stuff.
Roy hardly had the energy or will required to wrestle with Reno over whose ideology would prevail. Instead, he wordlessly plied the comely redhead with a second helping of vodka. "I won't tell you that I believe in the doctrine. It sounds puerile to me because there is no realistic way to ensure you get what you give. There is no perfect law because nothing is perfect. Or black and white as I have learned from being an alchemist and serving the state..." If Roy bought the idea that the reaction would equate the action, then he would not be where he was today -- whether the result was good or bad. The very thought perturbed him more than he had realized through tightly grit teeth. The Colonel strove to fulfill dreams that meant nothing more than ashes from an extinguished flame here in this wonderland city. All of his efforts and all of his tribulation reduced to memories only manifested in the shiny badges pinned to his coat crumpled discarded on the floor.
"Then by all means don't let me stunt you. I have plenty of bottles." The distressed expression he wasn't aware he donned thawed out and cooled in the light of a wry grin as the subject steered toward shallow water. As much as Roy detested this situation, he had to admit that in time he might actually be capable of adjusting to the malicious city that held them all captive. The prim-pressed man swept around the bar to fetch another bottle... or two. And once he'd emerged with the opened receptacle, the Flame Alchemist cautiously paced himself in consuming its contents -- knowing full well what drinking too quickly will do to even the toughest vessel.
"With logic like that, it'd be possible to bring back a person if you had the right materials. Though I suppose that's taboo because the only way that there could be anything equal to a human life is another human life." his grin was ever growing in its devilish qualities and Reno's eyes seemed to be filled with things other than just lust for a good challenge. Something else that few others saw. Desire perhaps? Yes? No? Maybe? Who knows, the day was weird enough as it is without the aid of alcohol to add in its own spell of disaster. The desire to give the dark haired man a test on how experienced he was in other areas was certainly not something that ran through the Turk's mind despite what his reputation might say.
Reno eyes Roy as he grabbed another bottle and opened it. Take it slow and steady for a sure win or risk it and drive his prissy military ass into the ground? Choices were to be made as the bottle's top came off. Crystalline eyes examined his empty glass; maybe taking it slow wasn't so bad for this time. He still wanted to talk to the Flame Alchemist after all, especially since their worlds differed greatly, there would be a lot to talk about. "Nah. It's okay... I think I'll go slow just for you, since it's been a while since I've had someone to talk to." With that said, Reno poured himself another glassful of his sin of choice. 'Burn me baby ♥' his mind sang as the fermented liquid spilled into the small goblet.
"In any news, I think it's your turn to drink..." Tainted eyes ever challenging those before them focused their gaze upon Roy's dark pools. 'Burn me baby. Make me fear that touch of yours.'
That kind of quick-witted deduction startled the Colonel off-guard. It wasn't every day that someone unattuned to the arcane ways of alchemy would come to such an enlightened conclusion. "You're sharp. There's more upstairs than red hair and pretty eyes after all." Did he just say that? Apparently, judging by the mischievous grin sprawled across liquor-slaked lips. And when the impish Turk so graciously complied to a leisurely drink-off, fine-spun brows perked in open intrigue -- a teasing edge to his velvet-smooth tone. "Oh? I'm flattered." In reality, however, he genuinely was flattered to find almost serendipitous appealing companionship in what was initially a fueled contending to his conceited claim.
Now, as Mustang sauntered behind the Turk en route to his original perch, fingertips purposely brushed the redhead's side... under an accidental pretense. And he wondered briefly if this challenge had become something more... underhanded? The sleighty alchemist at last descended elixir in hand. Lighthearted needling aside, he opted for serious questions while coherency remained. "Have you come across anyone from your own world here?" And, as directed, the snarky man obliged -- but with a wine glass rather than a shot glass. Shots would go to his head too swiftly, and with piqued curiosity the commanding officer wanted to cling to clarity as long as possible if only to delve a bit deeper into Reno's interesting, seemingly stashed intelligence.
Oh man, did he really come off like that? Sure he knew that he came off loud, obnoxious and even irresponsible, but stupid? Oh come on, idiots didn't make it into being a Turk especially one that was as high up as he was. The redhead let out a chuckle and scratched the back of his head...wait. Pretty eyes? Reno wanted to shoot Roy a look, but decided to let it slide. Of course he was more than red hair and pretty eyes, though his eyes weren't pretty they were sexy. But that would have to wait for another time. "Of course I'm more than what I look like. My boss didn't hire me just because I look good, you know." Reno tossed his head aside and leaned back in his chair allowing the skin of his neck to show. "But lookin' good doesn't help." His eyes gave off subliminal messages of, 'Hey baby why don't you come a little closer?' and 'I've got some things I'd like to show you ♥'
Dangerous. Oh so dangerous was the territory Reno was approaching, but he couldn't help himself from getting closer. Then Roy's question came, the one that'd be his saving grace, if one could really call it such. "Yeah... a few people. None that matter too much in particular..." his voiced trailed off. A laugh. "Well, that's a lie. There's one person that makes this place worthwhile..." Fondness spread over the Turk's usual cynical face and a soft smile accompanied by an even softer chuckle. What a jerk. Here he was crushing all over again, and the blonde wasn't even anywhere in sight. Some messiah. Some bastard. "How 'bout you? Anyone you know popped up in this questionable hell?"
Bring me need, bring me fire... Everything about Reno exuded seduction -- a brand of seduction that Roy knew like the back of his hand because it nearly mirrored his own maneuvers. Lackadaisical, slow-burning, calculated, outwardly disinterested but inwardly ardent. Or was he misreading the sultry rogue altogether? Nevertheless, Reno's loose, lax posture invited-- no, demanded Mustang's undiverted attention. Everybody knows that it's me or you now. Sooty lashes cast shadows across flawless ivory cheekbones, shuttering piceous optics absorbing the casual picture Reno made as he gently queried: "And what exactly did your boss hire you to do?" He witnessed Reno's visage as it softened substantially, but he held his tongue against the bombarding questions that begged answering. He shrugged it off, literally, and groped for the harsh sanctum of their favorite poison. The next injection eased his muscles and quelled his frazzled mind -- gradually watering down rationale... but it would take a few more to unhinge the well-founded Flame Alchemist. "Only one who I don't care to ever see again... I heard rumors of someone I know and care about here... but I have yet to locate him. It could just be that -- a rumor." Pessimism besmirched the usual glide of his inflection, pinching brows in a disgruntled furrow. Another shot followed a sigh heaved from somewhere deep and untouchable within. "This place has everything I could ever want... but I don't want any of it... y'know?" Oops, did he just slur? Not yet. Too soon.
Pressing the crystal to his lips and quickly sucking the substance from within this container ever licking his lips and his fingers as droplets sprinkled onto their length each time Reno refilled his glass. 'Don't you want to play with me?' Reno's eyes spoke again fluttering slowly as to lull the opposing figure into a lustful sleep. 'I've got lots of toys you'd enjoy' Another bat of those captivating eyes of his. '...won't you play with me?' Subliminal and unintended. Reno himself didn't agree with any of the messages that his eyes had been sending off into unknown lands. Frightening almost. To be able to make a person want you without even really thinking about it. 'Baby, flirt with me... show me your fire.'
"Mm? I was hired to be a TURK, and I guess you could see me as a jack of all trades." a soft smile replaced the wicked smirk from earlier. Fondness? Perhaps. "Though my specialty is hijacking, emissary and assassination" There was a heavy emphasis on the word 'assassination'. Murder definitely wasn't a questionable topic for him; it was more like, why, who and where? Not so much the 'why' either. Reno did his job with the utmost loyalty. He was proud to be a Turk, and would do anything necessary to protect his fellow comrades and especially his boss. Well trained ears caught Roy's slur. "Oh? Losing it already?" Another smile. "Yeah...though this place's given me something that makes me want to stay..." Reno's eyes diverted from the body before him and darted to the ground. As if he was embarrassed of his words.
I know your ways...because they are just like mine. Roy couldn't help but admire the silver-tongued mercenary's confidence. Reno held himself with undisputed aplomb -- refined but menacing all at once. A lethal kind of pulchritude, Roy declared as he tore his riveted gaze from the vermillion centerfold in all of his suggestive cupidity. It was simply too much too soon for the man who still scuffled with accepting his wavering sexuality. Promptly clearing his throat--as if it would dissipate his own depraved thoughts--the Colonel's wander lusting vigil dawned on his pyrotechnic gloves he'd previously shed laying disregarded but not forgotten on the countertop.
"Assassin? You do what you must, I suppose." Though he couldn't... really concur ever since Ishbal. Dexterous digits ploughed through pitch-black shocks -- head wagging in stern denial. "You wish." He wished his voice wasn't so thick and husky all of a sudden. Feline eyes again found the redhead who grew increasingly alluring by the minute... Those damnable cobalt whorls easily magnetized, and the effortless spell of their pull perturbed the otherwise unflappable Mustang. But it did not deter him from grinning lewdly -- ill intent written all over marble features. "And who makes you want to stay?" He'd zeroed in on the underlying chagrin -- body inclining surreptitiously toward the Turk to catch a better view. This was getting better and better, and our resident Flame Alchemist was downright hungry for satisfaction. But of what sort?
"It's not like it's a bad thing you know..." Reno commented his eyes still darted back and forth from Roy and the ground still rather stuck on his latest words. Working for ShinRa was his pride and joy, especially since it marked his escape from the Slums. Oh how Reno hated that place. Abuse. Drugs. Faux families. Sell outs covered in children's blood. Reno hated there. ShinRa wasn't a heaven either; the Turk had to fight his way from being taken back to that horrid place of debauchery and abuse. If there was a place that would be considered 'hell' then that would be a place deep inside and hidden from the world. Shoved into a dark corner of his mind. That was hell. "...don't get me wrong. It's not like I go around killing everyone I'm assigned. And I do wish. Very often in fact. Of course not about the same reasons each time… "
Then a change in pace as Roy asked another question. Who was making him stay? It was an easy question to answer. The very person that employed him and ironically saved him from hell only to help him cause more for others. Life really was a bitch, and one that Reno really wished would just shut up and take some medication for that PMS of her's. But for the answer? How would he go about it? Technically he wasn’t suppose to speak about this to anyone else, but his sin was flooding his thoughts. Eyeing his glass once more, Reno took another swig before answering. "A person that means more to me than anyone could ever reason...." Tainted. Cursed. Libertine eyes shot a glance into depths of darkness, firmly taking a hold of whatever was there. Pulling it. ‘Tell me why I feel this way?' Grasping it. 'It hurts.' Making it addicted to it's gaze. 'It's almost too painful to bare.'
"How do you get around that? Not killing everyone you are ordered to kill?" A gilt edge entered his once airy tone, stretching the Colonel's temper thinner than he would have preferred. But the topic in itself beleaguered the touchy military man who couldn't bring himself to take another life unnecessarily -- a man who poured his life into climbing the proverbial ladder to the stars in order to break the mold and change the world. It was a bit idealistic of him as a logical man, but so was the basic rudiment of Amestris' alchemy until one was able to see the Technicolor in the black and white structure. There were always loopholes... even in the most airtight absolute.
And Roy had long since abandoned his disillusionment when he discovered how the military truly worked behind closed doors and trussed-up formalities. "...mm." He had little to offer the Turk -- midnight whirlpools lost in the slosh of colorless alcohol within its confinement. He only snapped to when he detected a note of heartfelt sincerity to which he answered with a wistful smile of his own. "I know that feeling. It's... been a long time, but... I know that feeling..." Charcoal braided unfaltering gazes with rhapsodical sapphire, and he was hopelessly spellbound. What mawkish drunks... or were they? "... do you dance?" Oh, this could be an interesting turn of events.
"Simply saying that I won't do it." Reno answered bluntly waving a hand in the air like it wasn't a big deal. "And if they give me trouble for not wanting to do it, I'd kick their asses for making me." His voice was crisp and sharp and his eyes narrowed with a silent acrimony. If only looks could kill, Roy Mustang would be a stain on a wall right about now. "I'm not some dog that's gonna get ordered around by some fat-asses that like to watch my hands get dirtier as I spill some blood for their own personal enjoyment." Though the new president never made Reno kill anyone he dubbed useless or pointless, his beliefs stood true. Course Reno would always suffer from server punishments and demotions for actions like these, but he didn't care. The Turk was not about to get on his fours, begging for promotions or doing every little thing that they told him to do becoming some flea-bitten dog in the process. If he wanted that then he would have stayed back down in the Slums. No one was about to tell this Turk what to do, or would do.
But just as the fire within Reno ignited in a blaze of glory, it dwindled down into a mere match light burning up its last bits of fuel. And so, lucid eyes mourned for a lost unrenowned to their master. "He's....a bastard you know. A really big one." The usual fiery personality seemed lost in the undercurrent of unspoken emotions brought to the surface by the drinks. It almost made Reno consider to stop feeding himself such sin, but the thought went as soon as it came. "But I'd give my life for him." 'And again and again. As many times I needed. I would.' spoke his eyes. Thanks to Roy’s random and incongruous question, as quickly as the sudden angst washed over Reno, it receded leaving an unfazed but rather amused smirk behind. "Dance? Are we having a party now? What happened to our little drinking contest?" Needless to say, Reno stood up with his glass still in hand ready to show off his moves.
The bemused Flame Alchemist listened intently, bearing the vehement storm with steadfast poise and an infuriatingly undisturbed poker face. He'd heard passionate rebukes like this before, and the Turk's irascible professions and his roiling yet wounded eyes reminded Roy of a sin-encumbered, indomitably spirited youth he had once known (and guiltily loved). The flared-up redhead's retaliation seemed to penetrate the Colonel's stony facade, under thick skin and straight home -- an eerie echo of the beliefs he used to stand adamantly behind before he entered the service. Sacrificing pride and dignity, bowing and scraping, compromising himself as a sycophant with clipped salutes and mechanical formalities. Anything it would take to build that ladder to the stars. He started at the bottom with nothing but a vague, impossible dream and endured grueling work and shameful servility like the flea-bitten dog Reno alluded to. He'd established himself by the rank, propped up by loyal comrades and an inflating reputation with each promotion. It may have seemed like an ignominious path to destiny, but for all of the abuse, mind games, superiority complexes and ruthlessness, Roy Mustang had taken the reins and fulfilled a promise to himself that at a closer look was not selfish but selfless. But when you worked for the government, motives had to be concealed -- lest they be exploited and crushed. But that didn't numb the bitter ache Reno's cutting response left in its wake. He practically winced.
"Not everyone has the guts and fortitude you do to refuse... is why I asked..." Reno had successfully exhausted the Colonel without even lifting a finger. He was wilted and merely shook his head mutely as the Turk continued on. "I can understand that... I can understand all of it..." Roy, docile and recumbent, gazed blearily into his empty glass before fingertips rose to pinkened cheeks -- evident indication of inebriation. But no sooner could he return to reality with his own reprisal, Reno was standing before him. Only then did his washed-out expression take on a devious guise.
"My roommate doesn't like to dance... and I so miss having a partner." Ah, so it was ballroom dancing? Rising in one fluid motion, Roy collected his gloves and stashed them in the recesses of pockets. "You can drink and dance can't you?" Smiiiirk.
After the words had left Reno's mouth, there lay before him a broken man. Had his words really done that much damage? Had this Colonel been one of those low-life dogs that Reno especially loved to kick once they were down on their luck? Step on their broken limbs and rub salt in their fresh, fresh wounds? Use their blood to paint portraits of their foolishness and disgrace of even being in the skin of a human being? The Turk hated nothing than those that listened to rules blindly, and refused to muster up the courage to stand up for their beliefs. Not like he was a noble person, the redhead would bash any person's head in or rip families apart one member at a time if given the right incentives. Reno was a man of many talents, morals and lack of morals. He'd kill not for money but for the thrill and the challenge. Though the thrill alone didn't mean he would kill just anyone. He was an oxymoron in the making. Living. Breathing. Breaking.
"Then I suggest people start learning how. It's not that hard really. It's only an order if you want it to be." Hard, cold eyes not usually seen unless he was on one of his missions, returned to a porcelain face decorated by crimson threads and deep blood marks cheek bones to accent what was there. 'Untouchable. I'm untouchable.' His face. His pose. Everything about the Turk. That's how it all read. "Not that hard you know... not hard to break and order, defy all what you thought you believed in. Guess kinda become your own god and carve yourself a new destiny if it sucks." Crossing his arms for a moment, Reno scratched the back of his neck and looked at his empty glass. Of all times to be empty. Reno needed a drink after spouting all of that semi-self righteous crap. He could barely believe what he said.
Though Roy's quick interruption came as a pleasant mood breaker. Brooding was certainly something the Turk did not enjoy doing. It made him feel like soft or worse, like Cloud. "Didn't I tell you I was a jack of all trades?" a wicked smirk growing on his face. "Drinkin' and dancin' are nothing..." With that all said and done, the redhead held out a hand to the alchemist. "Shall I demonstrate some of them for you?"