Lurking Shadows

[Guest]

3:00 AM
Two weeks ago
South City Sphere Gardens

It was late. Darkness had long since descended upon the glorified pool of water that had been labelled as a city; sure, since the decimation of Amestris, they'd made some headway on 'repairing' it as a bunch of supposedly 'liveable' bubbles, but it was still little more than a technology convention with a few plants thrown in here and there. Ayden guessed that whoever was calling the shots must have been some sort of botanical genius; he counted orchids, chrysanthemums, rhododendrons...

Even an alchemical visionary such as himself had to dabble in the odd poison from time to time.

Whilst he was still working on his 'art' as a younger assassin in Creta, he had come across some of the best methods for delivering quick, efficient kills; poison. He'd developed a good few brews, and whilst his pistols and alchemy had since made methods such as this somewhat long-winded and obsolete, it was a true nostalgic blast to take a look amongst them and wonder of the old days. Paralytic brews to allow for brief windows of 'mercy', poisons that instilled fear or lethargy... or for the... higher-value targets, maybe something that got into the bloodstream and worked a hell of a lot quicker.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before Ayden found himself enthralled; ten minutes became an hour, and the sun had set upon the horizon as he looked from plant to plant, desperately brushing through to see if the gardens contained a specific strain of nightshade; he'd always been one for using nightshade, even in some of the brews where it was unnecessary. The look of pain in a man's eyes when he'd been struck with a nightshade-tipped blade... even the memories of it brought him back to those moments. The adrenaline surging through his veins... ah, how simple and yet how fun life had been back then.

What he'd give for a kill where he was given free reign once more; but, no, everything had to be specific. 'An execution', they said, or 'an accident', they said! The audacity. To direct and force an artist such as himself - an innovator! - into such a narrow conduit? Why, it was a marvel that he even produced a worthy end product... although, it was him. What could he say? Business was business, and even the most worthless of the scum deserved treatment as grandiose as his.

Long story short; he never got to use poison any more. It had been rendered useless; and forgotten. Like an old pistol left in the cupboard to rust and deteriorate; to have its frame weaken. The thoughts saddened him; it was petty sentimentality, twisted, too, but Ayden had always been passionate of his work.

Indeed, poison had been where he'd derived some of his earlier transmutations from; those that sapped the lifeblood true from a target's body... why, he found himself licking his lips, tonight's hunger yet unsated. He'd told himself that this routine lifestyle would stop for a while, as he tried to express himself and delve into the Amestrian research libraries... but, oh, what was life without the small luxuries. "Maybe I will kill tonight, after all~!" He mused quietly, before the statement found an abrupt pinch in volume, and he burst into near-maniacal cackling.

[Shula Brighton]

If you were to ask Shula, she would define that there were places in the conscious world that divided themselves away from the rest of functioning society. Small pockets that one could sidestep into and escape reality completely; everyone had places like that. When Josef was alive, his escape had been the libraries. Spade escaped himself in the bars and casinos. Shula had her gardens. The massive five-sphere garden was meant for everyone, but it was of her own design and paid for with money given to her out of her brother's love. This garden was her escape from all the things that hurt and was her peace; in here, nothing could touch her. In here, she didn't cry. Not about the work she was doing for Raistlin, how afraid she was of failing or being found out. Not about losing Aaron and that Acra may never wake up, nor about her feelings for Spade that she still fought with. There were no tears here. Only acres of flowers and benches, small waterfalls and fountains, candles illuminating the sphere with the giant rangoli, butterflies for the children, and so many birds.

The garden was still under construction. Volunteers came every day to help plant and arrange flowers, feed the many birds, and install the millions of engraved tiles with names on them in the first sphere. In the largest sphere would be an eternal flame for her comrades, but it hadn't been lit yet; it wouldn't be until the gardens were officially done and opened, and this was a massive undertaking. But Shula was patient, and coming here daily helped to keep her mind from dark thoughts. Spade knew where she was, and she'd told him before to not worry when she was out late because it meant that she was here. All volunteers were told to go home around 5; South was warm in the winter, but it still got dark early like anywhere else, and this was volunteer work. People should be home with their families. Shula, however, had keys (and the authority) to be there whenever she liked.

The hours of the evening pressed on into the night, and Shula knew she was far from sleep. Her mind was just too heavy that night, her latest discoveries in research bothering her greatly and leaving her to wonder if it wouldn't just be better to try and lie to Raistlin about what she was finding out for him. Shula knew she couldn't lie to him; he gave her life and breath and could easily take it from her. But Spade was living with her now and had become so close to her, knew her so well; how long could she keep on hiding so much from him before he found everything out and left her because of it? And what would Aaron have thought? Or her grandfather? No, no... Sleep refused to be on her agenda, and Shula knew she probably was going to be in the garden all night until dawn and then just go right back into her office without stopping to sleep or eat. Shula's uniform coat lay draped over a small sitting bench in the third largest of the spheres, as well as the wide belt that held the two massive panels of fabric around her pants. Damn useless things that they were, Shula felt they were a waste of material and that without them she could get around much easier and quieter.

Shula looked out the side of the sphere where eventually giant glass panels would be to enclose this garden, and stared for a moment at the cold winter moon hanging over the vast lake of South. Silent stars reflected in the black water below and made Shula sigh out her troubles. It was coming on 3 in the morning and finally, as a long stick of incense was lit in front of the small shrine she was painting, Shula felt completely relaxed. Finally. She might be able to go home and crawl into bed and get some sleep after all. Shula had started walking to gather her coat and side panels, when she'd heard something that didn't belong there. All the birds in the largest sphere were usually asleep at this hour. But that cackling...? Her uniform bits and parts could wait for now. Shula slipped quietly out of the small sphere into the connector.

She stepped carefully from the connector into the fourth largest sphere that would house the giant lotus rangoli and meditation lights, and then into the largest. The largest sphere was where the birds were, and the widest variety of flowers from all over the world. That laugh had to have come from in here. Shula looked around at the giant swirl of colours, looking for the person who had laughed, chiding herself that it probably was a bird waking up from its roost and laughing. Lots of birds did that. "Hello," she called out cautiously, her voice firm but not threatening, loud enough to carry over the vast field of flowers and their paths. "If anyone's here, I'm afraid we're closed right now, but you can come back in the morning. Is anyone here?"

[Guest]

"If anyone's here, I'm afraid we're closed right now, but you can come back in the morning. Is anyone here?"

Brushing and perusing through the various branches of nightshade - limited as they were - that the Sphere Garden possessed, Ayden's entire body stopped when he heard that voice. His neck snapped towards the sound and its source; no footsteps had stemmed forth. She was probably fastened to her place; the voice was female. Amestrian language, although with an exotic accenting beneath it. Something Ayden had never heard before, but something far too familiar. It was odd.

What to do, what to do... A panther in the night, thanks to his training and his clothes' natural camoflauge against the darkness, Ayden carefully extended upwards to his full form, pivoting and contorting, a growing plant in the garden. Would he play with her? Would she become a toy for his amusement tonight? Or would she present... difficulties? Perhaps she was even one who shared the same interests as he.

Either way, tonight's activities had taken a turn... presumably for the better. Licking his lips like a glutton ready to have his next meal served, Ayden took a long, though near-silent sniff, drawing in the air around him; fresh with pollen and intermingling flavours and flowery scents. It was beautiful. Enriching.

Ayden, however, had decided on a course of action. This was a journey home; too many times had he indulged himself with toying with others... the girl in Creta, even the emperor of Xing himself... she was most probably official and associated with Amestris in some way; perhaps his newfound rank, courtesy of General Aeries, would come in handy. First, a little conversation was in order.

"Aye, I am no spirit of the garden, I walk among you, flesh and bone," He paused. The voice he'd offered was smooth; unlike her firm tone, it was almost entrancing, a tone which appeared malleable, very much tailored to the voice on the other end. The charisma was an ever-changing shape, it had a form much like the product of a pottery wheel; not yet complete, but still... workable. "You have a fine garden here, miss. Brilliant work with such... limited resources."

And so it was. He had not yet lied; simply having told her of his humanity - in form, anyway - and his appreciation for the garden, he was telling the truth, albeit in a somewhat convoluted manner. He was a wordsmith as well as everything else; conversational exchange was a pastime of his. "I am simply a passing soul with an interest in botany, and an intrigue piqued upon catching sight of this garden of yours; but if you say the garden is closed... what would you be doing up here?" Unless she was the curator, this would be... hypocrisy. Perhaps the pair of them could talk further after her motives were established.

[Shula Brighton]

"Aye, I am no spirit of the garden, I walk among you, flesh and bone." Well that was reassurring. While Shu knew the garden would attract more than a few spirits, it was at least nice to know right off the bat what she was talking to. "You have a fine garden here, miss. Brilliant work with such... limited resources." The voice was smooth and had a warm lilt to it, and certainly didn't sound threatening. Shula stepped toward the wall of the giant, half-done sphere and flipped a switch to turn the lights on from dim glowing UV lights kept on at night to the bright walkway lights that lined the paths so guests wouldn't have to walk in the dark. And goodness knows Shula wasn't silly enough to go walking toward strangers in the dark anymore.

She walked forward on the main path slowly, listening again for the source of the voice. This sphere was large and there were plants everywhere, several of the birds waking and complaining about the sudden invasion of light. "Thank you very much," she replied as she walked along slowly, looking carefully for the man. The tone had gentled, though was still edged with a wary lace. Damn her for making this sphere so big! "I've worked very hard ti make this garden what it will become, though we're still a ways off from completion."

"I am simply a passing soul with an interest in botany, and an intrigue piqued upon catching sight of this garden of yours; but if you say the garden is closed... what would you be doing up here?" His tone was almost honeyed and had a certain alluring quality to it. Shula moved past a young cassia tree. She chuckled faintly to herself; indeed, what WAS she doing at a half-built garden at three in the morning when there were people at home waiting for her?

"I am the garden's designer and founder. The volunteers leave in the evening, but I come here whenever I feel the need to get more done." And when I just can't sleep, but that's besides the point. She looked around carefully for movement, listening. He had to be around there somewhere. She called out again as she spotted the center up ahead, her tone growing a bit more curious. [/color=green]"I'm very glad you like what's finished so far... If you're into botany we wouldn't mind an extra pair of hands to help."[/color] Shula trotted up a bit further, her pace quickening as she made her way to the heart of the sprere and stood in front of the pit that would have the special array in it to keep the fire ever-burning when it was ready. "Which path are you on? I'll come and find you."

[Guest]

"I've worked very hard ti make this garden what it will become, though we're still a ways off from completion." Ayden smiled to himself. Ambition. He liked that. More... he could relate to that. Everyone had their own ambitions, their own targets, their own goals... it was something humankind, from the lowest of the low, to ascended beings such as himself who really saw the world as it was; a blank canvas.

"It's beautiful, miss..." He called, idly humming as he did so. The garden was huge, but, acoustically, it was well-designed; it appeared his voice travelled for more or less its entire width. Musing on the process and painstaking work so many people must have gone through to see the garden through to its completion, Ayden scratched his chin idly, before her voice rang out a few more times. The man was too busy, entranced with the biological network of plants which surrounded him, only hearing her last sentence in the form of a query.

"Which path are you on? I'll come and find you." Focusing on the source of the noise, he realised it to be closer now; he triangulated her position, and looked towards her, a speck on the distance, standing in front of some odd platform-like pit. He'd seen it upon entry, but had never considered it too interesting. With a smile, he called out once more.

"Stay near the centre, I'll be there in a second." It was stern, and loud, but didn't sound too excited. Ayden picked up into a sprint, almost silent in his running, thanks to the padded boots he wore; it wasn't long before he near her, and recognised the source of her accent. Dark skin. Red eyes. Ishvallan. This was distinctive. He'd heard about this woman before. General Brighton. She'd got herself something of a reputation.

Now... time to play. Ayden ran a hand through his long silver locks, and grinned to himself, before letting the smile become slightly less unsettling, and more... friendly. Charismatic.

"Ah, the famous General Brighton! I thought I recognised an Ishvallan accent in your voice," Flashing that deviously charming smile of his, he drew close, and put in a few fake pants for good measure. Humanity was something most could relate to, as were the limits of a real body. "Looked longer than it actually was, heh..."

He 'recovered', quickly, and offered his hand. "Major Ayden Derocha of Central. Pleasure."

[Shula Brighton]

Blood-coloured eyes scanned across the edge of the small platform of the pit and looked over the giant bowl constructed to keep the fire contained. The bowl was massive, and the array inside of it was, too, and nearly complete save for a few tiny things that Shula would add when it was time to finally light it. It fed off natural pulses of the earth and water that connected to the sphere, and by feeding off of them would never need fuel and would never go out. It would be a beacon for Amestris and the rest of the world. But for now it was simply a giant empty mixing bowl. "Stay near the centre, I'll be there in a second." The man's voice had called back and Shula decided that she would comply and stay put rather than fuss with him; he didn't seem to be hurting anyhting in the garden, and she would just have the volunteers look for missing or newly added plants tomorrow.

She couldn't hear footsteps coming nearer to her, which seemed... odd. The place was empty, save for them, and the plants didn't muffle all the sounds because of the massive walls and ceiling. So where was he? The quiet was a little unsettling... she'd have to see about getting the stereo to play through the tiny speakers in the gardens at night if she was going to stay here alone more often. Shula looked around to the different paths. There wer so many. They all emptied out here to the center so he couldn't have been too far off, right? Finally the sound of two footsteps coming to a halt and puffing for air lightly. Shula moved quickly to the paths that had been behind her, and looked at Ayden. She hadn't heard him coming until he was right there and panting. I think the exhaustion's starting to get to you, Bright Eyes. She shook her head to herself and smiled softly, approaching Ayden.

"Ah, the famous General Brighton! I thought I recognised an Ishvallan accent in your voice," She laughed lightly, the sound tired but warm. She'd never get used to people knowing her before she introduced herself; she couldn't fathom how Spade, Mura and Reila handled it for so long. It was just weird. Shula reached out, accepting the offered hand. "Major Ayden Derocha of Central. Pleasure."

"It's nice to meet you, Ayden." Even outside of work hours, her personal policies regarding rank still sat firmly. Ayden seemed nice enough, his smile seemed pretty friendly, and it was always nice to meet another militant. Better than just meeting some random psychopath in the middle of the night. She pulled back, looking at him, wondering how long he'd been at Central. But then again, there were plenty there you didn't know, just everyone near your department know you. Not the other way around. "Everyone's been gone for hours and locked the doors behind them... How long have you been in here?" There was no trace of suspicion in her eyes or voice, her prior unease replaced by friendly curiosity.

[Guest]

"It's nice to meet you, Ayden." Ayden inclined his head silently, waiting for her to finish talking before offering a response. "Everyone's been gone for hours and locked the doors behind them... How long have you been in here?" At least Amestris picked its generals with some level of intelligence. She had fine deduction skills indeed.

"Sharp." He said quietly, sitting himself down on a nearby faded wood bench. "Sorry. Running takes its toll, I guess," He smiled brightly, before letting the grin fade into a pale face and responding, as he should've done seconds earlier. "Half an hour, ish. I have my ways." He tried to make the accompanying smile seem as warm as possible, but coupled with his words, that didn't seem like it was going to be possible.

In reality, Ayden always kept a few transmutation circles with him on stickers, for basic alchemy, when it was necessary. One of these was usually the ability to reshape metal into a flat or circular shape, and it was used only to bypass doors. It wasn't like the alchemist to dabble in arts that weren't of his own patent and design, after all.

He sat there for a few moments, admiring the ambience. "It's good to see that the people of South are still driven by ambitions and hobbies alongside patriotism..." He trailed off idly... ambitions were good. Hobbies, too. Infact, he had a few of his own; with a fairly unassuming smile in Shula's direction, facing her once more, he giggled mentally at the thought of how well his tangling with the young woman was going.

"How long have you been in the military, General?"

[Shula Brighton]

The garden's soul guest moved to sit on one of the benches that surrounded the center, Shula watching Ayden for a moment beore sitting as well on the next bench. His smile seemed very bright, and his personality rather warm and approachable, which at least put her nerves at ease. Shu hadn't been sleeping well at all lately, despite knowing there were eight locks on her door to keep her home built above the ground safe, and three adults in her home with her. Between the wolf chimera and the other General, nobody should be able to sneak into her home without someone knowing. And yet, Shula still didn't sleep. She still was paranoid and knew she felt watchful eyes on her whenever seh left her home's interior or sat on the balcony, or walked through town. By herself, but never alone. "Half an hour, ish. I have my ways." Because that didn't make her uneasy at all.

The jinjas that watched her had never trespassed too closely on her, not without good reason, but she was still worried and afraid. Ayden wasn't one of them, she knew. She knew the ones that watched her and reported on her doings were far more subtle than this man. They would have never been caught by her cackling in an empty, locked garden at three in the morning. Despite Ayden's friendly smile, his words mixed with it just made Shula feel rather unsettled, and secretly wondering if anyone else, ninja or not, were also hiding within her sanctuary. She swallowed the feeling as best she could, however her tiredness ate at her defenses slightly. I'll have to see about getting proper security installed in here before it's officially opened to the public.

Shula let out a small, tired sigh as she lifted a hand to brush a few stray locks behind her ear. This garden was meant as a sanctuary and place to feel peace, so why did she feel so ill at ease? Surely not simply because someone else had snuck into it without her knowing. Maybe it was just that sort of night. Since she'd gotten back from Drachma a few motnsh ago there were many like this where sleep had left her. She'd almost drifted away from the here and now completely when Ayden's coice caught her attention again, reminding her of where she was, that she was iwth someone right now, and that bed wasn't near here. "It's good to see that the people of South are still driven by ambitions and hobbies alongside patriotism..." Hm?

"Oh, very much so," Shula replied warmly, letting red eyes gloss back around the garden she was working so hard to create for all. "There's still a lot to do, but when it opens officially in a few weeks it'll really be something. And that's just for this garden... I guess you could say I'm a big planner." She chuckled lightly, thinking about it. She had helped to do so much to restart South from a conquered crater and turning ito a flourishing melting pot for Amestris, and she had a list of goals and onectives longer than she was tall.

"How long have you been in the military, General?"Now that was a question she heard often enough but whose answer still confused even her. Sure, she'd hoped to be a Brigadier General some day like her family before her, but while she was still so young, and now the first Ishvallan to run a whole HQ?

She smiled at Ayden, her guard relaxing further. [/color=green]"Only about five years, honestly. I joined at 18, and was in a department that almost never leaves the office."[/color] Ayden didn't seem much older than she was, and yet he was a Major. One shortcut came to mind for such things. "And you, Major? Are you one of our State Alchemists?"

[Guest]

Ayden noted the sigh, arching an eyebrow and jotting it down mentally, drawing himself a picture. Tired, possibly from insomnia? Something... haunting her? Dreams, nightmares... there was something laying beneath those red irises, sorrow, a past too sad to speak of... but, alas, all had secrets to keep. Ayden's nature, supposedly, was not to pry.

"And that's just for this garden... I guess you could say I'm a big planner." Ayden smiled, nodding. She had a lot in mind. Ambitious, again. Good-hearted, kind. A good person. The assassin almost felt sorry for her, before remembering that he had to suppress his mercy, keep it in check; the best he could do was hope that no-one wanted to kill her, and that if they did, they hadn't heard of him. Which wasn't likely, of course, when you're the best guy in the business.

"It's always good to have ambitions, General." Formality. Key. She'd probably tell him to dispense with the nametags; they'd laugh about it. Further progress. It was good. Develop, toy with your plaything, make gestures of respect, like this, which then lead to bonding. Emotive manipulation 101.

"Only about five years, honestly. I joined at 18, and was in a department that almost never leaves the office." Ayden arched an eyebrow. Most going into service were young, sure, but Jay had almost stunned him; it seemed like he was one of the oldest around, almost catching up to Hans, all things considered... and a desk job at 18? Sure, Amestris needed everything it could get, supposedly... but... hm. It seemed somewhat desperate, on the military's part.

"Well, in some respects, I guess that's good," Ayden chuckled lowly. "Stops you taking bullets, I guess. But I understand that everyone wants to serve; so many fire-hearted Amestrians, it warms me to be a part of the whole system..." He trailed off for a moment, mentally in a fit of hysterics from the icing-like layer of bullshit he was putting over the top.

He shuffled closer to Shu, and gently gave her a little childish elbow. "I'm ancient history, compared to you, though, but... five years ahead and you've got the rank advantage?" He chuckled once more, trying to make the atmosphere as warm as he could. He needed to be an approachable figure, establish some sort of... link, relationship between them. "Hardly fair, you can't be older than your early twenties, eh?" He said, sticking his tongue out and breaking into a little childish giggle. Oh, this persona was just the pinnacle of maturity, eh? Flattery, too. It was all, slowly, gently, fitting into place, folding neatly like the creases on a child's paper boat.

"And you, Major? Are you one of our State Alchemists?" Ayden smiled quirkily, cocking his head, and sticking out his tongue with a look of determination as he stuck his hand into the black abyss created by his jacket, vest, and coat, all being worn at once in this weather; he was used to a Cretan sun.

In an instant, he drew the trademark State pocketwatch, careful not to reveal any else of his little goodies inside his jacket; he brandished it with an underwhelming, mockery of a 'ta-da!', chain wrapped around his pale-skinned finger in contrast to the darker tones of her gentle skin. He held his finger at the centre of the pair of them, letting the watch hang and sway ever-so-gently like a slow-motion pendulum in the air. "I always had a knack for science," He said, before wrapping up and pocketing the watch in a single, fluid movement, tucking his hands gently into his coat pockets, shivering gently. Reactions showed humanity. Humanity meant familiarity. Familiarity meant further bonding.

"Alchemy, specifically, though. Been my forté for years; generally chemical, and usually with lethal projections and results," He said, putting on a little glum, dull expression. "The way of the soldier, I guess. They put me into use as a Covert Ops head and force me into killing, but in return, I get state grants for research. Kind of a vicious cycle, but, hey," He gently tapped the base of his temple with a single, leather-clad finger. "Sates the brain's hunger, I guess,"

An ounce of truth within a ton of lies; 'force me into killing'? Ayden was having to restrain himself from laughing. She had lapped it up so far, and he hoped things went as well continually along the line; it was almost a pity to have to lie about his art, his specialty, but, alas, it was the way of the warrior and the way of the pioneer... this world, in the artistic sense, was now little more than the progeny of plagiarists and corporate fatcats; inspiration was, to say the least, sparse; so Ayden had required... a little reinvention.

[Shula Brighton]

There was something about the aviary sphere at three in the morning that was peaceful; it wasn't the same kind of peace as the rangoli sphere of the zen garden, and yet, it was. The gentle lighting of the bulbs that lit the paths, the black water all around the sphere as it floated completely over the dark water and millions of stars reflecting in its calm glassy surface, like a black mirror spattered with silver flecks of life. Even if all the birds around them were sleeping, it was as the world should be. Sleeping. Peaceful. Maybe that's why she was here so many nights, trying to absorb some of that peace for herself. "It's always good to have ambitions, General." Eh? Oh, right. That was her title again.

A small exhale passed through small brown nostrils as Shula gave Ayden a sideways glance before returning her gaze to her aviary, a Mona Lisa smile playing at her mouth. "Heh, I can definitely tell you're not from here now... Almost everyone in South, Military or not, know to just call me Shula. Even on duty in the office I have a rule about not saluting and not calling me by my rank." Shula's glance moved back to Ayden.

[i]"Well, in some respects, I guess that's good. Stops you taking bullets, I guess. But I understand that everyone wants to serve; so many fire-hearted Amestrians, it warms me to be a part of the whole system..." The tiny General couldn't help but laugh a little at how many of those were half-truths when it came to her, an elbow playfully poking at her side. "I'm ancient history, compared to you, though, but... five years ahead and you've got the rank advantage?"

She'd started in the Adjutant General Corps as a means to stay out of the line of fire, Ayden was right; she had her own reasons for that, though. Att he time her health was too big a risk. She'd joined half out of family tradition for her grandfather, and half to prove a point; once she'd met her goal, though, she stayed out of spite more than anything. And now? Now she'd come too far and earned too much to just give up and do something else with her life. What else would she do with herself? "Everyone should get a fair go for serving, I guess. I was assigned here to South when I started; once I got relocated to Central after South's destruction was when I started getting more field assignments... Central it didn't really matter if it was my job or not, if they could make it fit my department in any way, it became my job." Shu looked to Ayden. He didn't seem Ishvallan, but that mop of white hair definitely wasn't a marker of age. "I'm in my early 20's, but you're about the same age as my brother." Was.

A silver glint and shine of a pocket watch pulled out, seemingly produced from the nothingness inside of Ayden's coat. The dragon on its cover roared and clawed at the air silently. Shula often wondered who that mighty dragon was roaring at now. Before, it was a symbol; it roared and clawed at enemies and brought Amestris to the top. Now that they were defeated and wounded, did it rawr and claw to keep hungry predators away while defending its wounded pride? "I always had a knack for science," the Major continued as he tucked his watch away after playing idly with it for a moment. He shivered as he opened and shut his jacket; it was a bit chilly in there, the heat on low as not to disturb the delicate life in there. She'd been hot working on the Zen garden but now that she was still it was becoming cold again. Maybe I'll start escorting us both out and grab my coat on the way. "Alchemy, specifically, though. Been my forté for years; generally chemical, and usually with lethal projections and results. The way of the soldier, I guess. They put me into use as a Covert Ops head and force me into killing, but in return, I get state grants for research. Kind of a vicious cycle, but, hey. Sates the brain's hunger, I guess,"

"I suppose so," Shula replied. "My own alchemy can be more than lethal, but it got more than enough criticism since I refuse to use it as such." The truth was Hild had liked that Shula's fire alchemy wasn't used at its full lethal force and that the Ishvallan refused to aim it directly at another human. But the fact that Hild had been such a dear friend was her secret; even Spade and Acra hadn't known. But given the new circumstances of the country... that would go over like a fart in church. "But hopefully things will be changing for the better soon, and we won't have to rely on alchemists to use power capable of such beautiful and good things for destruction. The resources may sate the mind, but they're too heavy on the heart and soul for me." Shula was many things. Pacifist was notably top of the list.

Small brown hands moved to rub up and down her thin arms as Shula pushed off the bench and stood up. "We should probably start heading toward the exit or we'll both be here till dawn." Shula smiled gently, her tired eyes warm and full of trust. "I know you said you found your own way in, but I'd feel better if you walked out with me." Then tomorrow I'll have people look for where he'd have come in at and work on getting the security installed a bit faster...

[Guest]

"Heh, I can definitely tell you're not from here now... Almost everyone in South, Military or not, know to just call me Shula. Even on duty in the office I have a rule about not saluting and not calling me by my rank." Ayden nodded slowly. Rank had always been a marker of respect for him; an indicator that he was higher than those below, a simple principle that most hierarchies ran upon. And physics. It let the privates, lieutenants, and warrant officers have something to look up to; a figure of authority, no matter how skewed and corrupt he may be.

But his nods continued. "So close to the troops. I admire that," He spoke staring off into the distance, smirking to himself. She was almost admirable in how committed she was to making the city a dynamic, natural haven in its rebuilding, despite it having been devastated and being nothing but a glorified pond. "I'm in my early 20's, but you're about the same age as my brother." Her brother? He arched an eyebrow. He dared not to dig any deeper just yet; the silence was far too quiet for him to even consider dare breaking it. Even the ambience left the short awkward moment vacant; no birds fluttered, no chirping upon the wind. It was almost depressing. Something lay too far beneath that facade for him to recover it whilst still this distant from the General.

The resources may sate the mind, but they're too heavy on the heart and soul for me." One of morality. Ayden had been able to tell from the moment he'd caught wind of her; she just had a kind aura about her. Many would praise her, applaud her for her generosity and pacifism despite holding an officiated military position, with the lives of many in her hands, rolling alongside the dice of fate she practically controlled... it took its toll on everyone. Most strained and broke after too long... tactics were one thing, but playing a game with people, forms forged of flesh, blood, and soul... the two weren't the same. Most people didn't see eye-to-eye with each other on the expendability of assets; everyone seemed to have a definitive, differentiating opinion on what the country's 'best interests' were, when it came down to it.

And the truth was, that was why war broke out. It would always be why war broke out. War and its triggers never changed, and never would do; Ayden knew that. Diplomacy hasn't ever been able to resolve everything; it has its limits. Beyond that, the only thing that will solve some issues are armies mindlessly massacring each other, letting blood spill forth and flow like a crimson river across the ground. Men and women releasing their most primal and savage of urges, forcing them into a conduit and just hoping that it's someone who isn't on their team on the receiving end.

War was a necessary factor in evolution. The survival of the fittest and adaptability; the newer models transcended the last. Made them... obsolete. Humans were far more lightweight and flexible than the Neanderthals of old had been developed to be; changing and ever-reforming, chimeric alchemy proved this to a T. Essentially just forcing evolution down the same path faster, chimeric offspring would, in a few generations, cull the 'lesser beings', those unfit to call this land their own. It would start with a handful. It always did. Ayden still had time to go about his will and work unfazed by thoughts of natural selection and the bloodiest wars that the world had supposedly ever seen; but in comparison to dinosaurs and amoebae, humans had been alive for only a sliver of time. A glimmer, a glimpse, sheer seconds in comparison to the endless massacres and devastation that the reptilians of old had suffered from. The truth was... the truth was, the only thing that differed between the world now and sixty-five million years ago was just the intervals. Life was still a dirty free-for-all of combatants and politicians sending those unable to realise the truth off into the fray; it was just organised, and kept to intense, suppressed, short bouts of combat.

And Ayden had given into that ideal. He enjoyed the adrenaline surging through his veins, turning his heart to molten steel, letting it thrum beneath his sternum and yearn to be released, seep through his rib-cage and burn a bloody path to glory. For his views, he was viewed and shunned as a murderer and a killer, but those primitive desires lay just inches beneath the surface for everyone, not just him. He knew it was universal; just latent. Locked down beneath decades of societal conditioning, manacles for the every-day working man. The schmucks, the idiots.

And how was this relevant to their current situation? Simple. Ayden knew he saw that desire burning within Shula as well. In branding herself a pacifist, she had tunneled so deep and buried those desires, a combination of personality and devastating willpower. But... nevertheless, he'd seen men and women change. Simply with the right triggers, the right events unfolding down the right path at just the right moment... people snap. Something within them changes, and they reforge themselves into beasts. He knew that the inverse rang just as true as their current predicament. Willpower could bury something just as easily as it could dig it up. Even someone as iron-willed as her in her own pacifism had boundaries, boundaries still just within her grip.

It wasn't fair to change her, though. Jaded by today's world, he couldn't 'corrupt' her 'innocence'. The lies fed to her on a platter had redeveloped her, and she was blind... yet she could see. Somehow, she had carved herself the path less-travelled yet harder, the path of morality. She hadn't yet collapsed under a strain big enough to kill. He couldn't see that murderous glint in her eyes warriors possessed; Heart had once had it, though it had since faded. Wu's too was only a shadow of its former intensity, and he could see the shame and introspective stigma just in those odd, small irises of his. And... most of all, he remembered it. Fragmented, and faint, like echoes upon the wind, but vivid as it had ever been... his father. His father had killed, time and time again.

"I know you said you found your own way in, but I'd feel better if you walked out with me." And back to reality once more. Azure irises fluttered; pupils dilated against the faint moonlight as he locked gazes with her once more, nodding slowly, a warm smile upon those pale lips of his. A suggestion he should probably adhere to. Hierarchy, after all, even if he was technically on vacation. Plus... the relationship had only just developed. He yearned, ached to learn more of the woman; she had a presence, an aura, that felt warm and trusting, kind. Legitimately. So stubborn, fighting against the determined currents of false loyalties that the white-water rapids of this country's political web with just a true, warm-hearted smile on her face. In some manner, he could appreciate it, but in another, it was stupid to disregard them and fight on anyway. Her drive was admirable. Her blind kindness... somewhat less so.

"Ah, yes. I was on my way out anyway," He pondered collecting a few samples to come full circle with his poison-related nostalgia. Perhaps he'd visit again tomorrow. It bore some thinking about, really. Shula here had piqued his interest so far that the one night of reminiscing in South had a chance of doubling. She was interesting; he wanted to see if there was more to this kind Ishvallan exterior, and perhaps ease her open and see what laid inside. He wasn't sure how he could become such a close confidant as that in a matter of days; he could sense already, from the stark, awkward silence of the room moments earlier, that she was most likely not one to lay all her secrets and feelings on a silver platter; not as open as he would've preferred, but, ah c'est la vie. Ayden enjoyed a challenge, anyway.

With smiles on their respective faces, Ayden and Shula tied up their conversing, made their goodbyes, and left the building. The assassin to go about his nightly - or daily - business, and the General to hopefully return home and go to sleep. And beneath the starlit sky, as the silver-haired wanderer exited and slowly walked about the edge of the crater, raindrops whetting his hair, he sighed, and thought to himself.

"Until we meet again, General," Sticking his hands into his pockets and letting the light shower of rain gently assault his silver locks of hair, Ayden continued to stroll down the road, moonlit sky above him as he made his way to the sleek R8, locked and targeted in his plane of vision. "Until we meet again."

[EXIT THREAD]

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