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shiroi---kumo · 1 year

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Royal Knights of His Majesty || Accepting

Send ‘ you’ll have to get through me first… ‘ for my muse’s reaction to yours stepping in and defending them from someone they’re scared of

@flameleads is growling:

"You’ll have to get through me first." [ because Roy said so ]

There had been a small bit of a squabble when the Amestrian Colonel came to learn what he had been doing all this time. It wasn't that the Misterican had been keeping the nature of his activities from the man out of ill will but more because he did not want to cause the man anymore turmoil that he had already been feeling and he also did not want to bring anyone else with him because of his airborne nature.

It was just simpler to search from the skies when he did not have to worry about what was happening on the ground, at the same time. Black Wind would have been the only suitable searching companion, but this wasn't adding to their on going search for Chaos so - so that wouldn't have been a productive conversation either.

So now he finds himself walking through the first town they've seen for at least a day. Cid had been gracious enough to give him more time on that blasted timer since this time he was out with company but there had been a long talk between the Misterican and the Mechanic about staying aware of his surroundings, keeping his head down, if he feels unsafe for any reason they are to return immediately without hesitation.

There had been a groan and a sigh from the prince in question to ultimately he had agreed to the commands. Eversti was adverse to flight, so that meant they were stuck on foot with only the supplies the swordsman's travel bag could carry. He didn't know how long they would be out this time but he can't imagine that Eversti would want to return before he found some kind of information on his children.

This village was much like others he's visited in this patchwork world. Nondescript buildings surrounded by nondescript people. A girl of blue hair, and young but still an adult looking in age made eye contact with him when they entered so he only looked to offer her a smile even with hidden lips.

Her head was snapping away as quickly as it could until his voice chimes.

"Excuse me, Miss? Can you help me for a moment?"

And pink eyes only widen as her face pales and the woman finds herself practically frozen in place.

"L-L-Lord M-M-Makenshi." Her voice shakes in the same way a leaf would when the wind rustles through the trees. "What an honor it is for you to grace us with a visit today."

His face grimaces when she speaks as his shoulders raise in his tension only to fall again in defeat seconds later. His hands raise up, flat as if to stop her trembling without touching her.

"This is entirely unnecessary. I just need a bit of your help, if you would be so kind."

"Ah - I - Of course My Lord, whatever you desire."

"You really don't need - It's fine. I just need to know if you've seen any children recently that don't belong to the town. Humans. One would have yellow looking hair and dresses in red. The other tall and in a suit of armor. Have you seen anyone matching these descriptions?"

Her head shakes quickly as her arms stay folded with her hands close to her chest. The fear in her eyes made plain as she looks at him.

"N-n-no My Lord. No one. No one has come through the village for several days, but I can't claim to pay proper attention to all who cross these parts. Fo-forgive me for not being more useful."

He's sighing again as she sounds and waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss whatever wrong doings she thinks she's committed.

"That's quite alright. Thank you for your time. "

He can hear the man behind him groaning and as he turns to face his companion there are words he doesn't know if he's quite ready to deal with at the present moment.

"When we met, you told me to call you Makenshi. Not Lord Makenshi. Why do these people call you that?" The Amestrian inquires. "What's more... they're terrified of you."

There is no motion to turn around and face the man. There's no motion to stop as he simply starts walking again instead of answering his question.

"That's not... important. We need to focus on finding any information we can about your sons before Cid's blasted alarm goes off and checks in on us."

He's still not stopping, and the only other motion the Misterican makes is to lift his left wrist where the mechanic's invention lives and he shakes it as if to draw attention to it instead of him.

The dark haired man's eyes are narrowing on his companion as he speaks again.

"I'd say that's pretty important. People don't tend to want to help someone they're afraid of. That, or they'll be too busy panicking to remember anything. So, what's the story?"

But the Misterican fails to turn once again and continues to keep walking. They don't have time for this right now. Cid might have given him more time this round but the blond was still checking in on him regularly to make sure progress was being made or seeing if they could do anything on their own end should useful information come about, so the words

"I will explain it all later. We need to focus on the task at hand."

are all that leave the Light's Unlimited, causing him only to stop in his tracks when he can hear the man's body practically shift and become ready to fight back. Misterica's heir does the only thing he can think to in that moment and that is to turn on his heel and he swings his arm snapping his right hand clearly in front of the younger man's vision as if to pull his attention straight to him.

His voice raises and he yells "Focus. Do you want to find your sons or not?"

But obsidian eyes are burning. Burning like Brother's fire and he can feel their heat rolling in his direction. He can't say he much cares for it either.

"I am focusing on the task at hand. We won't get anything out of these people if they're afraid. I know that for a fact."

There are eyes on them now and he can feel the village's gaze fix on his person from his back to his front. They're making a scene and now this village is fixated on the ghastly intruder that has crossed into their sacred land.

"Well I can't change that, so just keep moving." The annoyance is growing in a tone that is normally so very gentle as jade eyes narrow down and his nose wrinkles from behind his mask.

"He's angry."

"Oh no. That poor man."

�� "That's Lord Makenshi isn't it?"

"It sure is. That poor fool's spoke his last line."

"No one escapes the devil's wrath."

"Children go inside. You don't need to see this."

"Only an idiot would raise their voice to one of the Lords of Gaudium."

"Especially of all of them - him."

It's then that the Amestrian's eyes burn hotter than ever before as he bellows

"You think I don't want to find them? Do you know how agonizing it is to not know if they're alive or not? I told you already that I lost my son once. I've been nothing but forthright with you. Can you say the same?"

The town fills with the sounds of small gasps and doors closing. There are as many people fleeing the streets as there are now staring at the man in white waiting to know what he'll do next. What will Lord Makenshi -

"I have told you what was relevant to finding your children and getting you and your people home. That's what matters here. Returning you to your Amestris! So stay focused!!"

The masked man's voice echoes as he meets the Amestrian's passion in kind and doors slam all around them.

"This is the end."

"Surely Lord Makenshi is going to kill that man."

"Get the children off the streets. They don't need to see what is about to happen!"

"That boy. He dresses in white."

"That devil no doubt."

"Are you a fool? that's Lord Makenshi"

"Lord Makenshi?! Why would he be here?!"

"You know if he shows in your town then everyone is doomed."

"We've done nothing to anger Gaudium why would he be here."

"Lord Makenshi truly is the white devil."

"We're all going to die."

"Keep your voice down, they say he has the ears of a demon."

"Because he is one."

"Oh how have we been scorned by God to deserve this."

"We're all going to die because of that human!"

And that was when the volcano erupted. Everst's voice ringing loud to encompass the space around them.

"I am. No one's going to talk to us if they're afraid." He gestures to the closed doors. "I can't be much help if I don't have more information." He's pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please, just give me something to work with so we can at least get through this town." He pauses only to glare further.

"Or, am I really going to die because I pissed you off?"

He's been listening. Eversti has been listening to the space around them and he can hear doors slamming and a mixture of footsteps scattering and marching. He can hear so much going on at once that he can't answer. He can't answer as his hands raise to cover his ears as he feels his body shake from the fool of emotions that are rushing his system faster than he has a chance to process -

Marching. It's a little further off on the edge of town. He can hear marching. The organized sound of boots against the dirt.

"Search the town. Leave no stone unturned."

"If we can bring our God, Lord Makenshi then surely he'll reward us."

"I don't care if you have to burn it to the ground - no one leaves this town until we find him."

"Spread out."

His breathing is picking up by the second as his mind fills with static. It's happening. He's caught. He's caught if he stays here too long and he can't fight inside the town. He can't give these people more of a reason to hate him then they already do. He's panicking as his head darts up and his hands fall away from his ears.

He's looking in one direction and then the opposite as if to check to see if he can spot any of the opposing threat. His incoming captors if he's not careful. They won't - they can't harm the town if he's not in it.

"They're here." He states frantically, looking at the Amestrian with a wild look in his eyes. "They found me."

The man in white looks as if he could be spooked by his own shadow before he turns away from his companion and runs.

"We've never met." echoes back from his trail as he forces himself into what is left of the crowd in the streets, only to weave in and out of buildings and back alleys until he can find himself coming to forest on the outskirts of town.

There's no time to look back. He'll find Eversti again once he knows the coast is clear but he cannot let Gaudium take them both. He cannot let Gaudium harm Eversti or the town. So his left hand is flying up to his left ear, thumb pushing against the button along the bottom while he sounds out trembling.

"Cid? Cid? Cid can you hear me? Cid are you there? Cid answer me! Cid answer me! It's - It's Gaudium. Cid answer me! It's Gaudium and they're on my trail. Cid! Cid I need Black Wind! Cid you have to tell Black Wind! Please Cid! Cid Answer me!"

'Why would anyone answer you, Little Cloud? You think they're your friends? I told you once and I'll tell you again. The people of this world don't care for you. They never have and they never will. That dog can't save you either. Why do you beg for someone who cares nothing for you?'

He can't be hearing this right now. He doesn't have the time. He needs to get away from the town. He needs to get away from the town so should they find him, they can't make the people of that village page for his disobedience.

Just like so many had in the past.

So many forced to pay his debts.

So his mask is flooding back as he lets his steps slow. His heart is doing no such thing, but his feet come to halt nonetheless. He needs to focus. He needs a way to run. He needs a way to get away unseen, so he needs to act like the Misterican he is and make himself some form of cover.

Quivering lips are parting as he lets himself exhale. One long and deep exhale to allow a rolling cloud of thick white to leave him. It floods through the trees, covering the ground to swallow all in it's path. This should buy him some kind of time. This should - give him some kind of advantage. At least this way they wouldn't be able to see and even if they could - it wouldn't be as well as he could. Not with his Mist in play.

No, his ears were far too sensitive for that.

He just needs to hide long enough until his soul's breath takes effect and puts them all to sleep. He just needs to wait for -

"This isn't going to work."

"If you think you can wait us out in your little cloud, you're wrong."

"We just want to talk, My Lord."

"His Excellency would just like you to return to him."

"If you can do that, this won't need to get ugly."

"There's no need to go to such extremes, Lord Makenshi."

' Little Cloud. Little Cloud, don't ignore me. You know if you don't come home soon, then more of Wonderland will die. You can hear it too, can't you? Our beautiful song? You know they all die for you. Just for you, My Precious Little Cloud.'

The voices of his pursuers are mixing with that monster's within his mind. If they get their hands on him they'll take him back to Anarchy. They will take him to that beast and - if that monster gets his hands on him again then - then - then - Oh he can feel himself growing sick while the images of Black Wind's corpse fill his mind.

He has to hold his hands over his mouth to stop himself from making any form of noise. Back pressed against a tree trunk, he feels like his heart is beating with the ferocity of a thousand war drums. He can just kill them. He could just slaughter them all but if he does then what will that say to the people of this town and what will it say to Eversti?

Killing them all would be so easy and he can feel that beast wrapping around him from the corridors of his mind and urging him to do so. It has become such a thoughtless motion in recent years. It wouldn't cost him more than a couple of minutes to strip these men of their entrails but doing that would - doing that wouldn't be right.

He isn't supposed to kill unless he doesn't have any other choice. Lady Tiamat would be ashamed that he even considered doing so... but ...

Finally does he find enough composer in himself to pull his hands away from his face and swing around to look for the men hunting him. He can hear them for the most part. He can hear leaves crunching under thick boots and as he squints through the Mist that's when he catches sight of one of them enough to notice the state of his mask - a - he's wearing a mask.

He's wearing a damnable face mask! They came prepared for this! They came prepared to take him in at any cost.

"We'll make you a deal, My Lord. Come with us and we won't take it out on the town."

"Refuse us and the town burns to the ground. "

"The White Devil takes another town tonight or you come with us and no one gets hurt."

"But what do you care about a few hundred lives?"

"You've slaughtered thousands in the name of His Excellency, haven't you?"

"So come out here and we won't hurt you or the town."

"We know you've sided with the Black Wind."

"His Excellency is most disappointed."

"It's time to return home, Lord Makenshi."

They're right. They're right and he knows it. They're right and he knows he can't run anymore. If he just gives himself up and goes back to that beast.

If he goes back to that beast then he's going to die.

How many times?

It's better if he's the one that dies than the town -

It's better if he's the one that dies than if Eversti were the one to get -

There's a sigh of defeat and he can already hear Black Wind cursing him in his mind. He can hear the Windarian cussing rolling off his Other's lips as he allows his body to float out from the position he was hiding in, hands raised to either side of his head.

He got away once, he can do it again. He got away ....with Black Wind's help. He'll be furious but he'll come for him. He just has to believe that Black Wind will come for him again. For the sake of that village, he can't risk doing anything foolish and -

"That's right. We only want to talk, My Lord. It's time to go back to His Excellency."

A man appears behind him, grabbing his wrists and pulling them down behind his back.

"On the ground." He demands and the Misterican obeys allowing his feet to sink to the ground. He can feel his captor working to tie his wrists behind his back and it takes everything in him to resist the urge to shake the man off of him. It takes everything in not to flip the man to the ground then and there only to summon the Maken to his aid.

He doesn't need his hands to defend himself and they will learn this in the grimmest way possible if they cross him and harm the town outright. There's nothing else to do here and he just has to trust that Black Wind will come -

"You’ll have to get through me first."

A voice roars through the forest, echoing all around him like a grand dragon declaring war upon on all that stand in it's path. There are those same burning obsidian orbs glaring darts in his direction, but this time they aren't looking at him.

This time he could have sworn the Amestrian was trying to burn the man behind him to ASH.

#ask || inquires of the cloud #meme || knights of the king #flameleads #arc: amestris no more #v; jaded king #//All of Mustang's speech is written by Kai - we talked this out on Disco #tw; long post #tw; ultimatiums #tw; gaslighting #tw; PTSD #tw; panic #tw; panic attack #tw; arguing #tw; fighting #tw; threats #tw; mental illness #tw; death #tw; murder

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kittygirlinlovewithhumanity · 1 year

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#it's a roy mustang spam day #i'm officially sorry to all of you who follow me here #roy mustang #has my brain #in gridlock #i love him so much #somebody stop me #or him #whichever comes first #flameleads #i've put your tag in a lot of things today

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reigningsniper · 1 year

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@flameleads | is reaping the consequences of the apocalypse she has unleashed

Initially, a rush of apology surges through her body. That wasn’t the reaction she anticipated from what appeared to be an innocuous observation. She understands why for some it would be so jarring to discover, and in public no less. She can certainly extend her sympathies even if it’s not the world ending cataclysm his yell suggests.

Cocoa eyes level towards those in the office startled by the outburst. Once they’re sufficiently directing their noses into paperwork, equipment, or at least seeming as though they are not focusing in this spectacle, she sighs so only he can hear her.

Voice is soft. “Burn it? Sir, please tell me you’re joking?”

#riza vc: i will suffer the consequences but this desk will NOT #ic.#v; main #flameleads

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ftwpositiviity · 1 year

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WYRDIFY, FLAMELEADS & HAWKSIGHTS.

ANONYMOUS SAID; I think it's about time we talk about how amazing a writer @wyrdify is. Kai mans a multitude of blogs their most active being @flameleads and @hawksights but it doesn't matter WHAT character they're writing it's always fantastic. Kai has the ability to give each and every character they write their own unique voice that is so specially them and I'm just always in awe of it. Kai is just amazing and I think we need to talk about this a little more.

#wyrdify #flameleads #hawksights #♥ spread the positivity.

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galeleads · 1 year

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@deathleads has requested. ╳

SEND FOR MY MUSE TO DIE IN YOUR MUSES' ARMS (ALTERNATE VERSE EDITION!!)

When she was a little girl, Aurora dreamt of flower fields. Untamed and overgrown with endless amounts of color. Every night, she’d roam those grassy knolls, dirtying her dress as she rolled in the dirt, building flower crowns for her to wear, and bossing her sister around. ‘One day, I will be a Queen!’ she would declare. But as she grew older, the field became more tamed. Laid at her feet were cobblestone paths, organized flower beds, and soon enough, a fountain. Instead of being Queen, she wanted nothing more than to be recognized.

A garden built in her name for her to roam long into her golden years of this earth.

Is it truly bad that she can see the fountain again?

Qistina has been pressing her wound, unable to stop the flow of blood. One who prized the cycle of life and death like a precious stone was gently reassuring her that she would be okay, and that all would be well. Aurora knew much better than that. Behind Qistina and Atlas, she can see her beautiful garden. No, this was Windborne’s grand finale. How fitting.

The Major can’t bear to look down at the fatal wound, opting for a more pleasant crimson within her Mistress’ eyes. She can see the fear and hurt; could she blame The Belladonna? It’s becoming much too difficult to concentrate on anything. Qistina and Atlas’ words are starting to blur together in a fit of panic.

Her breathing is slowing. It is hard to move, but she manages to place her hand on top of Qistina’s. “Stop… Qistina please- Atlas, make her stop.”

Her grip tightens, attempting to slip underneath the other woman’s palm. She can feel the force on her wound lifting. Though Atlas remains close, her field of vision can only focus on the one person right in front of her. She must’ve been poisoned by this deadly nightshade, for it’s only in Qistina’s arms that she feels safe enough to say, “Qissy, I need you to hold me. I’m scared.”

Tears have begun to stream down her cheeks. Her body rattles and shakes without care. Still, she continues to stare into Qistina’s eyes, mustering her strength, “Sergeant Serrano of South HQ has my last will and testaments. Make sure they’re given to my family.” She pauses. There’s blood in the back of her mouth. She tries in vain to swallow, only for a cough to lay the damage out in full view, “My research… take it. It is yours now. It’s not your field, I know- but you built me. Is it not right for this to be our parting gift?”

One last movement of a hand-painted by her own blood. It brushes a stray piece of hair from Qistina’s face, staining beautiful snow white, as she gently guides her Mistress to come closer. Then as gently as a summer breeze, she pleads in her ear, “Don’t let… don’t let him know… not until it’s all over. He doesn't need to be distracted…”

It’s a promise that perhaps is far too much to ask for, but who could deny the wishes of a dying woman? (It's all well-intentioned. Perhaps Roy will forgive her someday.) From what she can see, there’s a nod in response. Thus, Aurora begins to allow her body to rest. “Thank you.”

Is the sun shining? She’s sure it is, even if she can’t see it. Her body is incredibly warm. As her muscles all begin to relax, and she is left with nothing but a feeling of contentedness, she asks with her last breath, “Poppies… would look lovely in the garden of the manor… don’t you think Qistina?”

#death tw #deatheleads #hmrtia #flameleads #HEHEHEH

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alchemic-elric · 1 year

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Golden eyes spot their target lazing about on the couch, as per usual post shift activities for the man in question. So that's when mismatched feet start to move. One step, two and then his cane to keep his balance. He's had his own rough share of a day with all the walking he's been doing around town.

Classes were long, tutoring took forever. Golden hair sways as he walks until he finally makes his way through the hall and across the living room to find his now-father passed out from a long day's work. Several options go rolling through his brain as he looks the man over. One, being to kick the couch as hard as he could to rouse him so he can ask him what he wants for dinner or if they can just order a pizza. Two, being to simply flop on top of him and take a nap as well.

And honestly option two sounds much more enticing. So the elder of the golden pair does just as his mind insists that he should and he's allowing himself to take a set and flop himself over his father so he can just be close for a moment. They've both had rough days, let alone weeks. Let it be Friday already. For now, the elder Elric-Mustang will just lay here to take a nap.

||| @flameleads your eldest wants attention.

#|| you're my papa and no one else | flameleads ||#flameleads #v; modern - my family found me

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proserphinas · 1 year

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@flameleads has entered.❓+ "Did you mean it when you called me Dad?" [ Roy at Mar ]

"WHAT?!" She's been rather calm and collected up until this point. Navigating this strange place with strange people; But when the other breaks the unspoken promise to not bring up her mistake that she made only TWICE, it doesn't mean she won't shove Roy rather forcefully, "Don't ask me to boost your ego with stupid questions! Ask Aurora to do that!"

She knows it's not about ego, rather, it's a genuine inquiry. Roy knows well enough that the man who is legally her dad just... isn't. Not by anyone's fault, he's just her uncle with papers that say he's her father in the eyes of the state. She was too young to get attached before he left, but he still sends her presents and wishes her happy birthday like she's his own. Nick just doesn't get the sentiment returned. That title is reserved for someone who deserves it more than anything (and there's a bit of betrayal in her heart that she gave it to someone else besides her papa so carelessly.)

She crosses her arms in a huff, "You're a dad, so yeah, I meant it. Just say y' don't like it and y' don't want me to do it again. Don't make it weirder, loser."

#flameleads #mar vc: who wants you to be my dad? not me!!#also mar vc: :'(

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angcrmanagcmcnt · 1 year

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She had no part in this one . She swears on her(remaining) lives.

#you would be angry too.{ic | anger}#little talks.{dash comm.}#and it’s lovely to live in.{house a habit v | alchemicelric | flameleads}#flameleads

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stonedeafdogarch · 1 year

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@flameleads

falls asleep in the middle of a ( maybe ) important meeting and slams his head on the table in the process.

#flameleads #roy : ok listen up theres --#emil : CLUNK

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justaradioguy · 1 year

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@flameleads is being open for once ->

"I love you too, Sergeant." The words were quiet as Roy endeavored to make direct eye contact with Fuery. "I don't typically get to say those things because of my position, but, well... we're not exactly in typical circumstances here." One hand gestured to their current surroundings in Wonderland. "You're not just another soldier to me. You're my family, and I will do everything possible to protect you."

The words seem to hit him in an almost physical way, and not only because emotions are high.

He doesn't have anything to do with his hands except fidget nervously, and his face has already started to tense up as he tries to process what he's just been told.

There's no doubt in his mind that Roy is a person who cares for his men, but there have been doubts about just how far that extends to someone like him. He knows better than to ask for clarification or even a response to anything he says, though. He's not willing to do anything that would jeapordize Roy in any way - his goals are vastly more important than a bad day of Kain's.

However, now, after several years of continued, unwavering loyalty and being hurled into a hostile, unfamiliar world, it's... very nice to be offered something affirming. He's not looking up anymore, and all he can manage for what he thinks is a proper reply is using what little he has in him to push himself to the edge of his bed to close more distance between them both.

If Roy's not going to keep up with the expectations that don't apply to this new place, neither will Kain. He doesn't know what details Roy knows of the situation he'd been placed in before this whole Wonderland teleportation fiasco and he doesn't plan to tell him about it or about what had happened outside the Comodeen, but he's still been shaken enough to want to make triple sure that the people he loves know that he loves them.

And so, he wraps his arms around the alchemist as tight as he can. As much as Roy is an excellent leader, strategist, and combatant, he isn't any of that to Kain right now. Right now, he's another human being just barely less lost than Kain. Right now, he is a friend. Right now, he is someone who probably needs the hug more than Kain does, even if it will never be spoken.

"Thank you," he says, his voice only a notch above a choked whisper. "Thank you so much."

#picking up the phone ;; asks #OUCH #damn roy #that shit hurted #flameleads

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shiroi---kumo · 1 year

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@Flameleads [ X ] || There is a discussion of the Kings

Eversti says - no Roy says he can trust him. Miss Riza is just the same. It's going to take some adjustment to stop calling him Eversti when he'd been so strict about it beforehand. He understands the idea behind it though. They can't be equals, if he's always addressing the man by proper rank and not by name, all the time. It's always been different with him because he's always had them address him by name - even if the name he gave them was really nothing more than a translation.

It counts though right? Maybe they'll get to the point one day that he gives them in his name in his native tongue but for now he doesn't think it necessary for them to have to deal with the mouthful that was Valkoinen Pilvi.

But this moves them into new territory because Ever - Roy says he's willing to help in any way possible, even if that means explaining Amestrian Alchemy or doing whatever he can. He just - refuses how to control the hellfire that Miss Riza's father created and honestly the Misterican Prince finds himself without a desire to learn such a thing anyway. It would have been more up Usva's alley and Brother already knew how to control his own hellfire.

If he were going to learn how to control the flames then he would much rather spend the time to attempt to master them through his Mist even if that meant he would have to deal with the recoils of when he inevitably messed it up due the mismatched nature of the required Mist's colors. This could have been avoided if Brother had not been so stubborn and just taught him himself but No, the elder Misterican had refused to teach his little brother anything of the sort while he was still alive.

He supposes that means both he and Evest - Roy have things to learn then, because if the man before him can control in his Mist in any facet he still wants to know how and why. He still needs to understand how this human managed to bring about his death even if he had been injured at the time and even if it was completely accidental.

So his hands are gripping at the mug within his grip for the moment, only to pause his thoughts for the time being and trade them out with the soothing sensation of a warm liquid coating his throat. He's had just about enough of breakdowns and panic attacks today. Both sides of the situation has had their emotions stirred around like a bubbling pot and the contents were just as rancid as Black Wind's cooking.

He knows the man says he'll do whatever it takes and he's willing to teach whatever he's able but what is he willing to learn? Being ready to learn about Wonderland is not being ready to learn about Mist and bluntly put he still doesn't know if this man can even channel such a thing being a being of soil at his core. Wouldn't that be a miracle? A being of Soil commanding Mist itself? He supposes he shouldn't be too surprised, he's already done it once. It could have been a fluke though, and he needs to know more.

What he needs is Cid to restore his mask to him, so he can get on with these lessons because not one person in the entirety of the Comodeen will let him go through with the little scheme that twisting around in that head of his without it. Cid might not let him do it at all and well what Black Wind doesn't know won't hurt him because he highly doubts his Other will be pleased if he tells him that he has full intention to recreate the scenario of his death in order to try to figure out how this Amestrian Soldier managed to activate his Mist.

It should have been impossible, unless there was something else at play. Could it have been with the way that Ev - Roy can manipulate the oxygen levels in the air? Even if it he can't actually control his Mist but he can do that - well that could prove to be quite problematic in battle if he can't keep track of how much of an explosive charge is behind the Mist he's allowed to seep into the air. It could create charges he has no control over or ones that he isn't prepared for and as Revon used to tell him while he was growing up -

'A Knight who cannot control their magic should never take the initiative to cast. An out of control spell can be twice as devasting as one cast by a Master of their craft but that is only because its wielder cannot bring its destruction to a halt.'

He might have trained in the ways of a knight when he was growing up but they practiced safety before all else. Mistericans still believed in Life over All after all, so that meant theirs too. There was no space for out of control spells or unruly behavior.

"Ever - Roy - Forgive me, this is going to take some adjustment. Regardless, there is a matter I wish to discuss with you but I fear you are not going to give me a favorable response. I need to know how you commanded my Mist. It should have been impossible for one such as yourself to do so, and by that I do not mean human, but instead a being of Soil.

I think it's important that you understand the basic building blocks of the universe, and by that being Soil and Mist. Black Wind is what is known by both his people and mine as a Soil Mage. I am what is known as a Mist Mythic, meaning we both can command these elements to cast spells and summon beasts to our aid.

Black Wind's arsenal far exceeds my own, but that is merely due to the nature of Soil as a whole. Where as Mist is my breath, and it is born of me - Soil is the crystalized souls of the dead. The vast army Black Wind commands is created through the temporary resurrection of previous Windarians and other species alike.

All beings are made of one of these two elements at their core. All beings except for Chaos. I think you see why I would like you to understand these building blocks at this point. Fighting Chaos is not a 'fight fire with fire' situation. The only thing this will serve to accomplish is more fire and the destruction of everything around it, therefore only further feeding Chaos. "

He sighs and shifts taking a moment to take a long sip from the mug in his hands before he returns it to the table before him. His shoulders raise and drop as he readjusts his posture and sighs again.

"I owe you both, a proper explanation. I only mentioned such a thing in passing to Miss Riza, not thinking about what was coming out of my mouth and in doing so I caused her much distress. I apologize. To you Ever- Roy I never not explained such a thing at all, and I owe it to you to explain just what the beast you're agreeing to do battle with is.

Chaos feeds on the negative emotions of living beings, but in my time observing it, I have come to learn that even attempting to suppress said emotions does little to prevent Chaos from getting what it wants. We are living beings and suppressing our emotions is impossible. I have come to learn that it is Chaos who should be punished and not the beings who are merely expressing themselves in the only way they know how.

While it is true that Chaos feeds on negative emotions, and it uses the power it creates from them to destroy - there's nothing we can do to prevent this cycle. The only thing I have found to do to strike back at Chaos in this function is to simply process my emotions and work through them so I don't continue to stew in my misery. I promise this when I say this, but there is nothing Chaos hates more than how strongly my heart loves.

So please don't try to shut your hearts down, simply due to the nature of our enemy. We just try to mend and repair strife wherever possible.

As for what I was speaking of before. One's soul is either comprised of Soil or Mist. There is no such thing as both as they are opposing energies. Soil is toxic to me, as I'm sure Mist can be quite damaging to Black Wind in ways we have yet to find out. Soil however, devours my mist and it burns my skin. So we have to be careful when we enter combat.

This is what I meant when I said Black Wind and I were inverted twin souls. A Commander of Soil and a Master of Mist. Aren't we quite a pair? Regardless, as a being of Soil, you should not have been able to have any agency over the command of my Mist. Mist is born of the being it comes from and only they can command it. So upon the return of my mask to me, I wish to recreate the conditions of my death.

I need to see exactly what you did in order to activate, and worry not - I will remain masked the entire time and with my hearing intact I will be able to contain the blast that should come from such an action with ease. You however have every right to refuse me. Still, if you can command my Mist at all, then I wish to teach you how to command it properly to avoid further incidents in the future. "

#flameleads #Fire that Burns like Sunlight and Morning Mist || Flameleads #Hawksights #She held my hand as we walked || Hawksights #v; Nobody Else Would Know #Arc: Amestris No More #tw; long post #tw; death

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kittygirlinlovewithhumanity · 1 year

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#okay WAIT #put everything on hold #holy shit #this looks nice #flameleads #roy mustang #this is actually a neat concept to explore

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reigningsniper · 9 months

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@wyrdify/@flameleads 7. if you were to hold someone's hand while walking ( assuming you are okay with holding hands ) , how would you hold their hand ? loosely or tightly ? your whole hand, or just a few fingers ? would you swing your arms together as you walk ?

CHARACTER BUILDING : An Interview to Your Muse !

First of all, she is very willing to hold hands! Not right away, it will take a bit of time in a relationship, as she needs to feel that her feelings are at least reciprocated by someone to initiate and accept most physical affection.

Handholding, however, is pretty low on the tiered list of affection types. Once she feels stable and comfortable with someone and those feelings really start to blossom, it's one of the first things she'll do in public and private. It might be when they're out on a walk, across the table while eating out, or just sharing the couch while reading books... Really, there are lots of instances for someone to take advantage and hold hands.

How she holds hands gets a bit more complicated. Riza considers lacing fingers to be more intimate. For however long it takes her to feel open to that, she'll accept your classic handhold. Loose at first, tighter later on. Lacing most likely will come after a first kiss. She doesn't really know why, but after that it simply feels right to go ahead and do!

She won't swing arms while walking. If the person she's holding hands with does it, she won't stop them. She'll more than likely send an amused glance their way in response, though.

Of the different kinds of physical affection, handholding is one she really appreciates and cherishes. Beyond communicating through just a touch like that with affection, there's plenty that she can learn in how someone else reciprocates her handhold. How quick they link fingers, if her grip is tighter than theirs and vice versa, if they hesitate, the list goes on.

#'i've killed too many to feel sorry for myself' / about #wyrdify #flameleads

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deathleadsarc · 1 year

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@flameleads sent a love letter:

Before October 31 arrived, Roy decided that every second of it needed to be devoted to the love of his life. Qistina Leota entered the world on this day, and he wanted to celebrate that one fact. Most importantly, he wanted her to feel worthy of celebration.

With every detail planned from the start to the end, he almost didn’t sleep the night prior due to excitement. Almost. Rising before her was a challenge considering his disdain for mornings, and she was always quicker about getting out of bed. Yet, before she could open crimson eyes to find him missing, he managed to not only slip out from under the covers, but make breakfast. Was it the most elaborate of meals? No, one could certainly not argue that. Roy considered himself a novice chef at best, which meant he stuck to simple recipes: toast, eggs just how she liked them, and blackberry pancakes. Coupled with a strong cup of coffee, he brought all of it straight to her on a tray.

As if his Queen should have to get out of bed on her birthday to eat breakfast. Nay, she wouldn’t have to lift a finger if he had his way.

That was the start of the day. With a wide grin, and a kiss to her lips, he told her that, “Of course there’s more.” Her favorite and finest clothes? He wanted her to pick them out and wear them. They had places to be and things to do! Naturally, he coordinated with her like a proper gentleman. In all honesty, her sense of style led to more color appearing in his wardrobe. Beforehand, he kept to mostly neutral tones with nothing too bold or extravagant. Now? Greens, purples, blues, reds, and more—color could be found everywhere. She breathed life into him.

Was an opera matinee too much? He thought it would be a lovely experience to have together, something nice and a change of pace. Not only that, but he wanted an excuse to dress to the nines with her and let her show off. Day in and day out, the two of them wore either a uniform, in his case, or, in hers, something that could withstand stains and lab work. Not today. The outside world had the privilege of seeing them at their best, and they better get a good look.

Another reason for attending an opera of all things came straight down to Qistina herself. One of the facets of Qistina Leota he appreciated most was her voice–how she sang like those from an opera, clearly once destined to be on a stage of sorts. Her stage merely differed as she chose alchemy as her instrument all those years ago. Yet, a love for music had to still be there with the melodies he often heard echoing off the walls of her home. She created a melody, and he harmonized without so much as a second thought. When she began an aria, he stepped aside and let her voice ring out for all to hear.

Or just him. He’d settle for that.

A late lunch came after that at a restaurant not too far from the opera house. They needn’t walk far, and they could sit and chat about the show without interruptions. Another facet of Qistina that he adored, and it showed when she spoke, was her passion. Oh, how her eyes became rubies and sparkled when she spoke of something she had passion for, something that she felt strongly about or loved. It seeped into her voice, radiating like her alchemy and spreading over to him as soon as he heard her words. Fervor—that was the word. He loved hearing her talk, whether it be about the show they just watched, a new finding in her research or alchemy in general, Baskerville, or anything else.

He loved her. Could she tell by the adoring looks in onyx eyes that rarely left her? Or how his hand found its way into hers when they strode side by side? If not, he planned to be more verbose about it later. The last part of his grand scheme waited in his pocket for the right timing: when dusk fell, and the moon was high. On a crisp autumn night, with leaves colored in reds, oranges, and yellows, he planned to lay his heart bare for her to consume. She already had claim to it, but this? The words he wanted to say, and the question he wanted to ask, was permission to dig it out of his chest and take it.

Dusk came quicker than he thought it would. Good days passed far too quickly, didn’t they? As they arrived back home, and the sun set behind them, Roy put one hand in his pocket. Was it better to do this inside? No, outside had the ambiance he wanted, and it would call back to the first time they kissed—well, when she kissed him. Such a memory always made him smile. The two of them were drinking and talking alchemy, giggling to themselves, and he decided to bring her coffee the next morning because he wanted to be kind. Was that way? Or did he just want to see her again? Her presence just energized him.

“Get to it, Mustang.” They walked to their porch, and he paused. One deep breath. All right, he could do this. He just needed to look at the most beautiful woman in the entire world, his moon and stars, and say what he kept meaning to say for God knew how long.

“Qistina, wait.” How her name rolled off his tongue—he loved saying it. “There’s one last thing I have planned. Bear with me.” Another deep breath, and he smiled up to her. This speech came with preparation and many, many drafts he later burned. He wanted this moment to be as close to perfection as possible for the woman he deemed perfect for him. “Today I wanted to celebrate you and everything about you. I wanted you to know just how much you mean to me and how much I love you. You’ve made my life better—made me a better man just by being you. I can see because of you, and not just because you gave me my sight back. I can see a bigger and better world because of you. I can see new possibilities because of you. I can see a future because of you.”

At long last, he took the box out of his pocket. Long ago, when the two of them were still in Ishval together, he took the time to make it himself out of sand. Within the box sat a ring he also crafted himself out of palladium, their two arrays engraved on the inside. He opened the box for her to see as he knelt down in front of her, a Knight hoping to become a King beside his Queen.

“I want to wake up every morning to see you, hear your voice, and be by your side for the rest of my life. That future of mine is with you, Qistina. I don’t want one without you. Qistina Leota, Belladonna, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

― 🜛 ― Evenings cold rolls to warmth, just as the foam of oceans strong waves pass to the shore. Warmed by the beach, pushing and pulling its sparkling sands from oxygen to the depths ― much like the silken sheets that fall from the warmth of her body, exposing skin to the mornings cold air. Though Poe had taken to nestling 'tween herself and Roy by their pillows, and Basker to cuddle comfortably by their stomachs, that warmth fled almost the instance Roy had left the bed ( Basker waking up and taking the covers with him to follow Roy down the stairs ). Even so, why would she remove herself from the bed as well? The bird was still sleeping and snoozing peacefully, and Roy had tuckered her out from the night before as he'd promised. She deserved to lay and sleep that usual productive morning away. . .

Not only this. But it was her Birthday.

And a Lady deserves the World on her birthday.

If not the world, but the moon and the earth and the universe itself ― how wonderful it was to be so confident in that thought! To know that Roy would have done everything in his power to give her whatever she should ask for! To know you are loved! It was enough to make anyone want to lie down and hide their face within the fluffy feathers of their bird. But hark! A soft noise jostles the birthday girl from the reverie of flutters, the light steps of him carefully returning to the room with a tray brings her sitting upward in bed ( Poe now a-jostled from the pillow in a flurry of vibrating croaks ). All was well. All was well. Poe took a piece of her toast while she wasn't looking, Basker was licking at Roys fingertips, and she was able to look at his smiling face as he goes over what he's planned for her that day.

Ah, when had she begun to enjoy her birthdays again?

They dress in their finest. Opulence in deep, plum accents with an immaculate baroque lace regality to shade such colors by arm, quarter-chest and hem of the skirt. Gold jewelry that acted as crown and scepter, decorated in shining multi-hued stones framed along the wrists. Fortunately, as she was such a punctual planner, she had already tailor-made a proper suit in the same fabrics. Naturally, a top hat to match the color of her headwrap and bandeau ― a style in which she'd always longed to try ( finally able to with her newly shortened hair ). They walked along the streets as spring flaunting its wealth of life amidst the harsh winter. Tugging him close with a tight arm, kissing his cheek at every possible moment, with Roy bringing her fingers to his lips ― oh ― could they make it more obvious of their love? Their utter infatuation with the other extending far beyond words and actions, when the very aura they had grown to blinding levels of purest white.

Even on their drive home, each word is punctuated by the silent question of ' what have I done to deserve this? '. Is it all just a dream that she's yet to awaken from? Or perhaps the preface to her true fate? They had finally surpassed the worst of it all ― of Ishval not once but twice, of the Promised Day plot, of her duplicity and his forgiveness, and the supposed finality of her incarceration. Saved her once, twice, three times and more in ways she could not have possibly written on paper. An acceptance of his love perhaps the greatest of all, opening the cage of a heart smothered in thorns and carefully trimming them away with his gentle flames. Even by the touch of his hand as he guided her from the car and to the porch, she could feel that flame encompassing her heart and soul. No thorns to remain nor flourish, only his flames fanned by love.

Healing.

Just as she'd always told him that fire was. A cleanse upon the bastard monstress whose only purpose in life had been to maim and rip and tear to pieces all who opposed her, with an evil steadily subsiding by every breath and part of lips from this man who loved her. When she had done her best to turn him away, even by breaking things apart upon their return from Ishval. Yet, he continued to fight for her, and for the future they could have together. New friendships made between her freedom and now seemed to tease her that he ought to have proposed by then! Perhaps, even before their return to Ishval in the cleanup. But she knew him better than to make presumptions of his intentions, nor to think on it too deeply.

He loves you, fool, he loves you. Why else would he stay by your side? She could tell just by the look in his eyes as she turned 'round from opening the door, the house key in hand. Curiously, head tilted just enough so that her dangling earrings could tickle the shoulders. Then he spoke and it seemed as if the Opera of that evening were given an encore in the form of a love confession. Cheeks flushed a deep scarlet the further along he went, and it seemed as if he would never stop ( nor would she have wanted him to ). Just as she had the parted her lips to respond, he moved.

Roy had pulled something from his pocket and kneeled down and. . . Oh. Oh Roy! Oh Roy who was so in love with her! Oh Roy who stuns this witch so deeply! Oh Roy who continued to speak even after her tears began to roll ― all the warmth from her heart trickling down her face, finally unable to contain it all. By such simple words ― her name spoken from his mouth, the love he gives, and the honor of being his wife! No! The honor was hers! All hers! To be loved by this man and to receive his heartfelt proposal! She could stand no longer! Throwing her arms around him with an elated sob, ruining her makeup ( not caring at all! ), causing both Basker and Poe to throw a fit beyond the closed door ― Qistina, he calls her, Qistina!

A Belladonna who may be reborn once more! A woman who may freely love and become the Wife of the worlds future. Her own future so carefully woven with his ― so openly. Speaking to her so openly on the very same porch in which they'd first kissed. She squeezed him tightly, swaying the two of them before pulling herself back. To look at him fully! To make certain it was not a dream! When it was not, she leaned forward and kissed him. Pushing him down to the wooden porch flooring, not caring how dirty they could become! Further kisses later, she sat up, tugging him along, and held him again. Still with watery eyes, caressing his face in purest adoration.

" Oh Roy, to love and to be loved by you, I can think of no higher place I would rather be. Yes. Yes of course I will marry you. I will forever be yours, forever your Belladonna. " she breathed deeply and held out her left hand, trembling all over. " To be yours, Roy Mustang, there is no higher honor. I will remain at your side until my dying breath, your Darling Wife Qistina Mustang forevermore. "

#long post #flameleads #❥ Blooming in a garden of loneliness ; I see a flower that resembles you | HER KING ROY #im so sad im so sad and in love with them!!!!

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