An Unexpected Meeting in the North

[Xan]

A Homunculus is essentially the evolved form of a human in the theories of certain alchemists. This is rather appropriate considering their vast array of 'super'human abilities: they do not age, they do not fall prey to disease, they can heal from virtually all wounds, they do not truly have a need for mortal sustenance, and they cannot die. For all intents and purposes, their lives sound like the literal pinnacle of existence. Xanthus's thoughts sounded to him like a gilded contract; pleasant sounding on the outside, until one is living the existence on the inside. Xanthus Icarus, former Brigadier-General, State Alchemist, Elite 'Super-soldier', Rebel Leader, Second Leader of Briggs, and now Lord Captain of the Black Company now faced something that he should have seen coming from months ago. He had surpassed his original purpose, and in so doing, had lost both it and himself. For one who could not conceivably die as long as he continued to devour souls, he felt as though he were dying an extremely slow and excruciating demise; the loss of all purpose, or rather the realization that he had lost all purpose literally made him feel empty inside.

Even now the Homunculus was simply wandering about in North City in something of a stupor, literally going through the motions of life without truly feeling anything that was happening to or around him. With something of a dejected sigh, Xanthus looked up towards the sky with a hope that there might be some form of inspiration hidden in the clouds that were always circling high above the buildings of North City. As expected, a crown of gray and white hung above the heads of passerby. There was no snow today, which was rather unexpected and unfortunate, but rather the sun would peek through the clouds at random intervals to shine its light upon the citizens of Amestris. With a shake of his head that sent his silver-white hair into his eyes, Xanthus turned his gaze back upwards and kept himself moving along; continuing motions that had long since lost all meaning to him. What was the point of him existing if he had nothing to do with his now unending life?

[Iris]

Snowflakes christened the earth more by the second. Each one unique as was said. A crystal with so many forms and so many colors. Each one landed upon white and made more white until someone came along and smashed their boots into it. Each step led to the body of a woman in her own world upon the small city of what was known as being the north. When she was little, she remembered calling it the North Pole and how Santa had to be the one who ran it. Silly things from silly children. Though the person running was just as mysteries, she was by no means a fat man with a white beard. Soft and crisp air flooded her nose as it jostles the items in her bag more. Both hands occupied and holding something.

A lonely wonderland in her head. White painted her eyes, but not in the same way. A piece of paper and a new day. It had been hours she started and hours she was left with nothing but ripped sketches she'd grown impatient of. As with sculpting, material only stayed fresh a certain amount of times before it became old news. A brief glance came up as she peered about, making sure she didn't run into anything before she cast her eyes down once again. Where had she even been? the muse ran short but still she would try.

Iris continued to sketch. Though her muse was trying to kill her. Her book never left her hand as she stepped, foot after foot to lead her in the snow. Eyes never left the paper and her nose slightly wrinkled when it came to details. A movement of the slightest and barely noticeable from her determined stroke. Each line had its place. When it took over space it wasn't supposed to, she had to nudge it back with her eraser. A gentle push, marking the gray with white and vice versa. Her work of art was hard to officialize today and she wasn't sure why. Once malleable paper had fought her all the morning and so with a disheartened sigh, she flipped the page and started over for what felt like the eighteenth time. It seemed today that things were just not cut out for her.

As she made her way through the snow, she could feel herself bump into a man. her hand scaling across the paper in dark black and for a second pain was on her face. That mark wouldn't come out, she knew it. Her beautiful white had been stained by an unwanted line of white. Not even straight, simply a scribble and her pencil was left in a imprinted hole. That was a waste of paper! Her heart sank, but her body readjusted from stumbling as her pink eyes rose to meet the being she'd bumped into.

The man looked Ishvallan, just by a single glance. Dark skin, white hair and red eyes all filled her eyes. A hand moving from the paper, she flipped closed her book and took a bow. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you." She spoke softly after resting the tablet upon her lap. Long pink tresses fell over her shoulders. Sliding a finger through some she would straighten up and size him. Was he an attacker of sorts? No. It seemed he was someone familiar. She hoped not from wanted Ads, but that wasn't where the face struck memory. A vague similarity to something she'd seen in the past only akin to Deja Vu. Of course it was only polite, so the young woman would offer words. "You seem to be lost. Did you need help with something, sir?"

The moment was one of truth. Her soft pink eyes staring him down but not out of bitterness. No, only a kindness and shyness flooded from the irises of the defending woman. Memory fished for a name or where this man came from, but nothing showed up. It seemed to be forever before she gave up and simply awaited his answer.

[Xan]

The sounds of crunching snow did little to pull the Ishvallan out of the prison-type area that was his inner conscious. Snow had begun to fall whilst he had been trapped musing within his own labyrinthine mind, and without truly seeing them, Xanthus vaguely registered that they were there. One of nature's little oddities snowflakes were; it was said that no two were ever alike, that they would forever be as distinct from each other as humans were from each other. Mayhaps snowflakes could be compared to human lives, if this were the case? Temporary, fragile, beautiful, and unless they were disturbed, peaceful. Of course, if a normal human was like a snowflake, then what could Pride be compared to? An iceberg as likely as not; with a glance one might see but an Ishvallan, but with further study they would see an immense power such as could never be fully destroyed.

How appropriate it felt to compare humans and homunculi with terms of ice in the depths of the iciest city in Amestris, and until only some months ago, Xanthus's own essential 'home.' It remained a strange thought that he would never again be an officer at Fort Briggs; then again, he had made his choice to resign from the Amestrian military at long last and had accepted that his time 'serving' had come to a rather sudden end. But of course, this only brought him back to the realization that without at least being part of a military, Xanthus was in fact without purpose yet again. With a dejected sigh, Icarus thought to himself that he would probably not recognize a purpose to remain in Amestris if it hit him in the-

BUMP.

Having not been paying attention, it should have come as less than a surprise that Xanthus would bump into someone in a crowded place such as North City. However even as he felt the contact, Pride's shadows crept around invisibly beneath several inches of snow to strike at whatever unfortunate victim was trying to potentially harm or mug the most powerful being on the planet. With one look however, Pride's shadows retreated back into his body and Xanthus's face took on an expression of slight surprise. Pink. A world of pink invaded his vision for a few moments before Xanthus realized that there was a girl underneath it; a rather pretty girl at that, with a rather familiar visage. "No no, it's fine. If anything I should be apologizing to you." Xanthus took a moment to look at the girl that he was talking to again; something about her seemed to be truly familiar, though he could not quite place it...

"Lost? Oh, no I'm not lost. Actually I used to...live here...in a sense." Xanthus looked just past the girl for a moment, almost being drawn back into his dream world, but resisting for the sake of politeness. Afterwards he found himself fishing for words, his skills of social grace having waned from lack of use over the past several weeks. Finally he settled for his favorite cliche. "So, this is some beautiful weather, don't you think? Snowflakes are the best part about living in North City." So saying, Xanthus let one land in an outstretched gloved palm, knowing that soon it would either melt and slip through his hands or break. However, he secretly hoped that the beautiful thing would stay with him for a while.

[Iris]

Eyes of red analyzed her. The way he stared gave her chills, as if her were something not human, but a predator. Such a man surely wasn't based on the history of Briggs? She wondered with curious eyes that narrowed at him in their normal way. Who was this man? She knew it had to have been an article she read, but of what, when and where were all the questions that gave no answer. She'd blink twice while her mind processed and his words soon interrupted her confused mind.

"No no, it's fine. If anything I should be apologizing to you." That kind of amused her. A bit of a smile on her lips for a moment only to vanish as fleetingly. A brief laugh from her lips and she found herself in an awkward silence for a moment or two. "Lost? Oh, no I'm not lost. Actually I used to...live here...in a sense." He had replied to her earlier comment. So he wasn't lost but he looked lost. Perhaps he wasn't lost as in didn't know where he was going but Lost as in he didn't know where he wanted to go. Two things that were entirely different. Both sounded ultimately legitimate to her.

Another pause took over the air. the man seeming to debate on what to say and even looked past her. Perhaps she was overstepping the boundaries of conversation. Depression raised its eager head for a moment until Iris regained control of herself. It was neither the place nor the time for those sort of fits and as such, she kept her emotions in check. the rigid feel of pain was sated by a feeling of self worth if only for a moment.

Pink eyes watched as he held out his hand and caught a crystal beauty. A heat through the glove still made snow melt as it was a sad sight. Snow was beautiful, but lived such sort lives between trampling and unexpected heat. In comparison how could something so tiny be so beautiful? It symbolized so much in cultures, that at times Iris found it to be unreal. The frozen dances that left sweet memories in her hair when she walked home, only to leave her looking as if she'd taken a run through the sprinklers at a beach. Something that everyone watched from their windows. The way they swayed, twirled and spun and yet each one was of a shape not often seen by human eye.

"So, this is some beautiful weather, don't you think? Snowflakes are the best part about living in North City," he finally spoke once more. the comment was something Iris couldn't agree on more. The snow was part of the reason she was excited to transfer to Briggs A way to watch it fall daily and bask in the neverending blanket that laid out before her.

"I adore the snow," she admitted with ease. Her eyes lighting up, while she smiled softly at the man. A gentle smile that showed no malice or fear towards him. A conversation had been killed already it seemed as he spoke already of the weather. Yet her interest bugged her, so her face furrowed a bit while she spoke to him. "Mind my asking for your name? you seem really familiar and I can't place it." How she hoped she wouldn't get more questions from the terrible one she'd just asked. She wanted answers, no tricks and no strings attached. Her curiosity was killing her.

[Xan]

Strange waves of regret poured over the Ishvallan's form no sooner than when the words had left his mouth. Commenting on the weather? Even though the truth of the matter was that the weather in North City was beautiful, it was virtually never a wise idea to mention weather in idle conversation; that was typically a sign that the conversation was deteriorating. The pink-haired woman before him seemed to respond rather easily however, admitting that she loved snow. This caused Xanthus to feel some small measure of relief; relief that was quickly brought to a screeching halt as the woman asked him a simple question:"Mind my asking for your name? you seem really familiar and I can't place it."

Icarus's mind quickly scanned several different scenarios at once, presenting options upon options that could prevent the release of his actual name. He could simply use an alias, considering that he possessed at least one for every country, including in fact his own country of Amestris. He could simply refuse to answer, but then that would simply be considered rude. Or he could say something rather philosophical to dodge the question: 'What's in a name? A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet.' Even as he thought of it Xanthus nearly shook his head; his time away from social interactions had not just taken away a small amount of his charisma. It had also apparently made him rather paranoid. "Icarus. My name is Xanthus Icarus, though some people call me Pr...ah...some people call me Xan." A mental kick woke Xanthus up as he had been about to reveal perhaps what should have been one of his more dangerous secrets to someone he had only barely just met. With a mental sigh, Xanthus made a point to start interacting more with people; he was obviously slipping.

Knowing that he must seem to be awfully distracted, Xanthus raised a dismissive hand and waved it rather nonchalantly; though whether this was to banish his thoughts or to imply that he was still paying some attention to the real world was up for debate. "Well, fair is fair my new acquaintance. Since you know my name, it's only fair that I should get to know yours too, am I right?" Xanthus did not mention it, but the young lady in front of him was really starting to seem eerily familiar; Xanthus felt as though he could probably have identified her if he had been having a better day. In fact, he felt as though he should have recognized at the least her face...something about her face...

[Iris]

"Icarus. My name is Xanthus Icarus, though some people call me Pr...ah...some people call me Xan." She took in account the hesitation. The man had something to hide and in response, she would narrow her eyes. What was it that he was hiding? The thought passed as swiftly as it came. She'd go over it later when she had resources. "Xanthus." She spoke softly, repeating the name. It rolled off of her tongue with such beautiful ease. Such an interesting name, unique and oddly fitting to the Ishvallan man.

"Well, fair is fair my new acquaintance. Since you know my name, it's only fair that I should get to know yours too, am I right?" His words picked up as he spoke once again. Her name? She smiled a bit, a greeting. A sweet glint in her eyes as she bowed towards him. A signal of humbleness with a hand cradling her stomach. "My name is Iris." She spoke in a soft voice. An introduction aside, she stood up.

Xanthus was a familiar name. It resounded in her head like a popular song. It couldn't be placed, but she knew she'd heard it. However a misplacing of the words often left her taking assumptions. She wouldn't be for sure on anything until he spoke of his past or she looked it up on a later date. Just to make sure she was safe from the possible criminal, she only gave her first name. Her mistrust of people would possibly get her in all sorts of troubles. "So Xanthus Icarus, is there any way I can be of service today? Please don't hesitate to let me know."

[Xan]

Introductions were made rather smoothly in Xanthus's opinion, considering the circumstances. Though he could have done without the hesitant nature of his speech, he had to admit that he would simply need to find his old manner of speaking some other day. The woman introduced herself with a bow, a sign of humility; under normal circumstances Xanthus might have merely waved his hand and advised against bowing, but in the woman's...Iris's case, the movement was so...Xanthus could not quite put a word to it, but the movement seemed to simply flow with her persona. Iris? Named for the goddess of the rainbow, this one was. This was fitting considering her brightly colored hair and eyes. Her bright pink colored hair and eyes. Her pink colored...pink.

With a sound similar to a click inside of his skull, Xanthus's mind shifted to an image of the only person he knew who possessed naturally pink hair. At first he could not remember because her hair used to be a strawberry-blondish color, or something along those lines. However, when the dye came out, only one person's hair had the sort of color that Iris's hair had. Then again, it really was impossible for such a thing to be anything more than coincidence. With a rather suspicious expression, Xanthus raised one eyebrow hesitantly in the direction of the woman. "This will probably sound like the most bizarre question to ask someone upon first meeting them, but you would not happen to know a woman by the name of Reila Tsukino would you? About ye high, Lt. General, Head of Ft. Briggs to the far north?" So saying, Xanthus raised a hand to show Reila's approximate height, give or take a few inches. He then pointed in the exact direction of Ft. Briggs, which was literally to the far north of their current position. Truly Xanthus was not sure what he was expecting; he merely made a connection on hair color and was curious as to what pointing out that connection might accomplish.

[Iris]

"This will probably sound like the most bizarre question to ask someone upon first meeting them, but you would not happen to know a woman by the name of Reila Tsukino would you? About ye high, Lt. General, Head of Ft. Briggs to the far north?"

That.. seemed kind of like a dumb question. then again, Iris never stated she was a militant. Naturally she HAD to meet Reila once or twice, but that was all required. The pink haired woman stared at Xan thoughtfully for a moment. Was he a foreign ambassador perhaps? Judging by his appearance it seemed kind of likely. For a few seconds it tumbled through her head, but it would be rude not to answer him. Of course in some instances a rude answer would be ruder but she wasn't worried about that.

Looking towards where his hand was pointed, more out of curiosity than anything, iris simply let out a silent laugh. "Fort Briggs? I know where it is." She turned back to him and gave him a gentle grin. A hand pushed back her pink locks again as the wind blew them askew. "I know OF her, but I'm afraid I don''t know her personally, I'm sorry." Her frown had faded to a stoic glance. Her interactions with Reila had been minimum if any at best. Two exchanged words barely and only if needed, as she was a busy person and as of lately, so was Iris. Why did this man need to know? Was he a spy? "Why? Did you need to speak with her?" She asked not in a curt manner, but in an urgent way.

What if this was important? Was there some sort of news she should be rushing to the head of Fort Briggs? So much whizzed through Iris' head she could barely think straight. Her hands pressed firmly to her notebook while she cast her glances to the large wall and the buildings she knew very well were built inside. So long had she been there now. A few months in the harsh weather and by her own surprise, she was healthy. She hadn't gotten sick, yet. It would be coming soon, she simply shirked at the idea of vomiting. Whatever the case, she wasn't too concerned on getting sick. If she had her choice she would go the rest of her life without it. Aching bones and shivers in her stomach just were less than satisfying in her eyes.

"I just transferred to Briggs. I can't say I'd be of much assistance, but if you state your business and identification, I'm pretty sure you could get a word in with her." Her words flew out professionally and filled with enunciation. Loyalty, Iris knew nothing less than the utmost loyalty to her world.

[Xan]

One look at Iris gave Xanthus a fleeting view into the inner world of her thoughts for a few seconds. He had to admit that he probably could have phrased his questions slightly better, but frankly the thoughts running through Iris's head appeared to be ranging from the benign to the extreme in terms of why he had asked what he had asked. It was almost rather comical, and for a moment Xanthus nearly let go of some stress long enough to release a slight chuckle. The moment was short lived however, as the Ishvallan soon returned to seriousness in a way that would have earned the respect of even the most cryptic businessman. Judging from even her voice, and not just the looks in her eyes, Xanthus sensed that an explanation was probably in order if he was to avoid a particularly lengthy problem. With something bordering on a sigh, he raised his hands in the air briefly in a gesture of peace.

"No no, my business with Reila is not overly important. As to needing to speak with her in general..." Here Xanthus smiled with a rather amused expression that faint traces of the abundant pride he held within himself. For a moment his eyes seemed to be filled with the dark fires that always seemed present when he would walk within Briggs's ice cold halls; just as well, he seemed to stand taller, become stronger, and in general to appear to be...in essence his old self. "I am sure that she could spare a few moments for her former second in command if it was requested." Merely mentioning his past seemed to give Xanthus a proverbial 'second wind;' he was standing at his full height, and he seemed to be feeling rather well in comparison to a mere few seconds ago. He extended a hand with a rather chilling smile on his face and spoke in something of a deeper, more powerful voice than what he had been using.

"Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Xanthus Icarus, formerly known as Brigadier General Icarus, second in command of Fort Briggs. You just got the orders to transfer to Briggs you say? Congratulations Ms. Iris, you were selected to join the strongest Amestrian branch of military remaining. I trust that you already know the golden rule of Briggs?" Xanthus's crimson eyes seemed to be burning the question into Iris, though in actuality he was merely asking because he was curious. Now that he was feeling slightly less pitiful, perhaps he could at least hold a half-decent conversation.

[Iris]

"I am sure that she could spare a few moments for her former second in command if it was requested." He stood tall. Intimidatingly tall. Iris took a step back in surprise. The dark skinned man was rather tall, now that he didn't slump in the slightest. Of course it didn't help she was slightly shorter than most. Just an inch shy of five and a half feet and this man seemed well over that.

As he straightened, it took her a moment to register what he had said. Her former second in command. FORMER SECOND IN COMMAND?! She nearly jumped out of her skin. Well that explained how she knew him. She'd read in a newspaper while working in Central of it. Though she couldn't recall much of the details, the face smoothed in line with a 'click'. It made more sense now and of course she'd take another brisk bow, asking her forgiveness. "Ah! Sorry, sir!" Respect was given to those who deserved it and if he were the ex second in command, he deserved a little respect. At least, that was how Iris saw it. From what she had remembered (though her memory wasn't that great) he hadn't been kicked out for destroying the place, then again who knew?

Clearly, Iris took her job seriously. Her pink eyes rose once again to stare into his crimson pools. She was giving him her utmost and undivided attention. A breeze blew once again, sweeping a small wave of snowflakes to dance in front of her face. The cool air felt amazing to her, though freezing to most. The man's face became more stern. An almost dastardly grin that would probably fill most with fear, or maybe not. Her eyes simply set upon him with vague interest at what his words would be.

"Allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Xanthus Icarus, formerly known as Brigadier General Icarus, second in command of Fort Briggs. You just got the orders to transfer to Briggs you say? Congratulations Ms. Iris, you were selected to join the strongest Amestrian branch of military remaining. I trust that you already know the golden rule of Briggs?" Instantly her hand flew into a salute and she stood up straight. Her face showed a completely serious side with pink eyes simply filled with dedication. There was one major rule at Briggs and she knew it well. Even though she hadn't been there too long.

"I know well, sir. I assure you, my loyalty does not falter!" Her voice stated in a rather military fashion. Of course she took her job seriously, she had no jokes on the that topic. There was no betrayal in Briggs, but Iris wasn't concerned about that.

[Xan]

The smile that the Ishvallan had upon his face had been known to drill fear, respect, and even dread into all but the bravest hearts. It was all at once a predatory glance and one that promised a swift, but brutal end to any that would dare to oppose him. The cold fire that was swimming through his eyes relayed a pride that literally unmatched upon the planet upon which everyone lived, and if anyone could see into his soul, they would see that the maelstrom that generally revolved within his soul like a slow moving tropical storm had now picked up pace to become something near to a hurricane. Xanthus looked good, he felt good, and in his mind, he was good. Former attitude aside for the present moment, the Ishvallan now looked down upon Iris with that same dread smile for a moment before his features softened up slightly.

His smile lost its predatory nature somewhat, though the cold fire still remained within his crimson eyes. If for a moment Xanthus had seemed to become larger than life, he now returned to relatively normal size; however, even when he did not stand at full regal height, he was able to project presence merely by standing within the area. Taking a deep breath, Icarus allowed himself to breathe in some of the refreshingly icy Northern air. It was excellent for clearing one's mind when they allowed it to do so. "I know well, sir. I assure you, my loyalty does not falter!" Ah, so she knew the golden rule of Briggs, did she? Or did she? Xanthus beckoned Iris to step slightly closer, the expression on his face for all the world appearing to be that of a mischievous teenager feeling the need to express a deep secret that was better left hidden away. "The Golden Rule of Briggs, my dear new friend, is this..."

Pride's eyes would for a second appear to shine a vibrant violet color, and his pupils would become like slits as he would whisper the words that he had learned longer ago than he cared to think about. "Survival of the Fittest!"

[Iris]

Beckoning eyes pulled her closer; begged her to step near him and though it was a bit foreign to her, she had managed slowly. Her pink eyes showing the deep pools of human curiosity. What had he to say she hadn't heard before her? It was only a simple rule she'd bee told first, but it seemed that wasn't the one he had been thinking of. She felt a blush of embarrassment slip onto her pale face that colored her cheeks a bit pink. Was she in trouble now?

Her steps were almost hesitant as she made her few steps to shorten the distance between them. Her face near his and a satisfied smile on his face. The menace was gone, but instead a sort of playful grin took place like a cover. Her head tilted and she looked around. Was someone watching? Would she be scolded. "The Golden Rule of Briggs, my dear new friend, is this..." He started as his eyes seemed to shimmer with excitement. The words must have been locked up in his throat, waiting for a day to be unleashed upon the world before them. An ear to be whispered in and so they were.

"Survival of the Fittest!" A phrase often used that was hushed upon her ear and folded away into the wind. She knew that. It was cold in Briggs, but she thought it was a common saying, not a rule. How ironic. A woman of Iris's condition whom was working in Briggs and keeping her own as well. It wasn't as if she fell behind, but despite being sickly, Iris had managed to keep her head above water. In fact she shone at how well she was doing with things, or so she thought. Her hand pressed gently to her notebook and her eyes dipped. Amusement. It was so.. ironic that she was in one of the harsher branches. Were they trying to kill her or did they truly have such high hopes of her?

Her eyes rose again, slowly. Rose hint sat still upon her cheeks and her lips gently curved into a smile. It seemed fitting of the harsh climate. Eyes upturned, she beamed a bit. "I'll keep that in mind. Haha! Thank you." A gentle giggle escaped her throat as she placed it in her memory bank before pausing. "Now, you never answered my question. How can I help you, sir?" Her hand had at last lowered to her side and clutched the sketchbook to her chest. It was almost like a life force; her drawings were her life. Her hobby and when not at work, her dedication. No fear would sweep off of her, mainly a kindness and sincerity.

[Csilla Angelis]

{BUMP}

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