Roy Mustang (
ignitethesky) wrote2012-01-07 11:15 pm
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[video]
[Ever since New Years, he's taken to trying to stay indoors when he can, venturing out only when necessary. Since the arrival of a certain short blond alchemist's parents, he's been trying to keep an even lower profile... because it's cold outside, and automail is metal, and getting punched by a cold metal fist is not high on his list of priorities.
After all, what if it was like getting your tongue stuck to an ice cube? What if he wound up stuck to Edward's arm? And of course, this opens up a whole new can of worms that he doesn't even want to think about because he isn't the one with the metal limbs...
But even more pressing is the fact that he's noticed something here and there on the floor of his apartment: feathers. His feathers. Not a lot, but definitely not just one or two. This means the question must be asked, and so he turns to the journal and its video function.]
Perhaps someone else will be able to answer this, but is this [A pause as he turns the journal to point at the feathers on the floor] normal?
After all, what if it was like getting your tongue stuck to an ice cube? What if he wound up stuck to Edward's arm? And of course, this opens up a whole new can of worms that he doesn't even want to think about because he isn't the one with the metal limbs...
But even more pressing is the fact that he's noticed something here and there on the floor of his apartment: feathers. His feathers. Not a lot, but definitely not just one or two. This means the question must be asked, and so he turns to the journal and its video function.]
Perhaps someone else will be able to answer this, but is this [A pause as he turns the journal to point at the feathers on the floor] normal?
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There's always "professional arsonist", but that might be frowned upon. I'll admit, I'm not exactly in possession of an abundance of potentially useful skills here, and those I do have, I'm not entirely certain of how to make them into anything worthwhile.
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[But hey, more time to spend with his family! So. He's not complaining. Too much.]
You could always start a magic act.
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[VOLUNTEERS?]
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[If only so he can see the reaction.]
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[...] You know their father showed up, too, right?
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So what foods taste good when pureed?
[Hey, it's good to know for future reference, right?]
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And it's not like people can send women through a postal service, which Luceti may or may not have, so all in all, my chances for ever having to buy baby food are pretty well non-existent... unless I'm buying it for someone else, which means you and Gracia should probably get busy on giving Elicia a sibling.
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It's...a bit of a touchy subject. Especially as of recent and he's at a loss of whether bothering to explain that or just deflect.
...After a pause, deflection wins! Because that's not a conversation he's eager to have.]
...I'm sure you can find a baby around here if you're suddenly dying to feed one. It is a lot of fun to make the train noises.
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[And none of this "but what if" talk, because he's going to believe that should it ever happen, Hughes will still be there.]
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Of course! Someone's got to make sure you don't run off with cold feet. And seeing as how I'll be the one to talk you into it, it ought to be me.
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...I'm going to end up chained to the altar, aren't I?
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