http://ripthehunter.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] ripthehunter.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] tampered2006-06-08 11:56 pm

Log: Ongoing

When; Tonight.
Rating; Eh...PG-13? Probably shouldn't go much higher than that, given I'm a minor.
Characters; Rip van Winkle ([livejournal.com profile] ripthehunter), Roy Mustang ([livejournal.com profile] pet_my_ego)
Summary; Rip drops by Colonel Mustang's humble abode. JOLLY FAMILY FUN AWAITS
Log;

Eins.

Rip sauntered past the first apartment door, mentally counting it off. Considering who she was about to visit, the flattering black dress she wore seemed more than appropriate. It was unusual, not roaming the city in her familiar suit and trousers. Which wasn't to say she didn't find it a refreshing change. Nothing could be further from the truth, in fact. When you've been living (and dead, in this case) for nearly a century, deviations from the norm tend to be welcomed with open arms.

Zwei.

All that annoyed her were the high-heels serving as a mild hindrance to the almost constant spring in her step. But she'd endured them before. Or, rather, the colonel had.

Drei.

Ah, the colonel, Rip mused.

If his apparent abilities were anything to go by, Herr Major would eagerly have given an arm and a leg for a man like Roy Mustang on Millennium's side. Obviously not his own, Rip imagined. Why do a silly thing like that when a subordinate's limbs could be sacrificed without a second thought?

Vier.

From what Rip had observed of him, the colonel appeared to be a dedicated individual. Surely he'd been a source of admiration to his fellow soldiers in the world he arrived here from.

A tad bit arrogant, maybe. Though she herself was far from above that sort of attitude.

He was also decidedly charming. Always a pleasant quality. And while she rarely paid attention to such things anymore, to say he wasn't attractive would be a terrible lie. The vampire allowed a thoughtful smirk to cross her lips.

Fünf.

Rip van Winkle always held a motive, however. Just as Kaspar attempted to offer up the soul of Max rather than his own by persuading him to cast the magic bullets.

Sechs.

Integral Hellsing respected the colonel as well, or so it seemed. Perhaps to the extent that she would command lenience of her leashed devil upon the man's request.

Sieben.

Indulging humans often proved to be quite an entertaining activity. So if this particular human could possibly provide a veil of safety, well...

Acht.

...That just made said indulgence all the more worthwhile, didn't it?

Neun.

Rip gave three sharp knocks, took a slight step back, and waited.

[identity profile] pet-my-ego.livejournal.com 2006-06-11 08:23 am (UTC)(link)
From an outside standpoint, the prim and proper masquerade of theirs might be utterly laughable considering their personalities. Though the Flame Alchemist carried himself with a prestigious air on most days with most people--too well acquainted with ceremonious mannerisms and formal (feigned) sociability--Mustang often tired of the charade he'd donned as routine. He could be caught outside his authoritative countenance, acting as flawed or as normal as any other human being.

But for the evening he was strictly about humoring a more self-indulgent side. If the woman was willing to humor him--hell, even encourage it--then Roy Mustang had found his perfect match for a night of escapism from the all-seeing City.

From his nightmares. From his past. From his future. From his personal tragedies. Escape from everything.

Speaking of those infamous ignition-gloves, Mustang was tugging the right of what was possible pair on one-handed (due to the last experience, he'd be damned before he went unarmed, even in spite of an amusing fear of exposure to flammables) as he flashed a bottle of Absolut.

"I know you're not for it, so I'll mix something worthwhile. How about a Cosmopolitan?" Always with the damn martinis -- one of Roy's lesser-known yet painfully obvious guilty pleasures. Beer is all well and good in the bar scene, but Mustang's pallet cried out for something with a bit more pizzazz. Such a prissy Colonel at times.

Regarding the bag with a gentle upturn of lips, the polished man tossed a nod toward the coffee table. "There is just fine. Actually -- put one of them on." A now-gloved hand gestured lazily to the simple stereo system hooked up across the room. Simple, yes, but the speaker set-up was particularly intricate with sound amplifiers occupying each corner. He was quite the music afficianado.

Yes, Roy Mustang off the clock could be rather interesting.


( You read my mind. :D )