Video

[heart_wrenching]

[ Even after the video starts, the image is mostly obscured, the figure still way too close and fiddling with her device. ]


Is this really broadcasting now? Amaaaaazing. I can't even see the microphone or camera! It's almost unbelievable.


[ When she finally sits back the area around her is a mess. The tables are strewn with tools and machine parts, knobs, springs, coils, piping. If one looks carefully, one may be able to spot a number of control panels suggesting she has possibly dismantled every major appliance in the home. Like ya do. ]


Well, hello! I'm a new imPort, my name's Winry. Winry Rockbell. And . . . does anyone out there know how to build a "microwave"? Well, rebuild, technically. The locks and turntables are pretty straightforward, but then there's all these wires . . . who knew electricity was going to be such a big deal, anyway?

Comments

[vorbarra]

[ If he was a dog his ears would be perking up. On human Gregor, it's a subtle reaction, but his interest is piqued. ]

Oh? Is he trying to remake centuries of precedent as well?

[fullmetalbrat]

[His posture closes off abruptly. For a moment he let his guard down too much; opened up more than he really meant to.]

He's dealing with a shitty military. It's close enough.

[vorbarra]

[ That was enough of a tell for Gregor to be making some solid assumptions with, and they're very interesting. He had the sense from his character that Mustang wasn't someone with small goals.

Out loud, he merely makes a thoughtful noise. ] And you? Are you dealing with them as well? He said you're his subordinate. [ Probably in the same way Galeni says Miles was once his subordinate, Gregor reflects with some humor. ]

[fullmetalbrat]

[Ed snorts, clasping his hands behind his head in a lazy, careless pose.]

Please, I barely count as military myself. I just travel around on my own doing research. If he called me his subordinate it's in name only.

[vorbarra]

[ Speculatively, inviting comment: ]

He must take his duties very seriously, to be so protective of an in-name-only subordinate.

[fullmetalbrat]

[That . . . actually catches him by surprise.]

Hahh? What are you talking about?

[vorbarra]

When we met and you were unconscious, you were his only priority.

[ Not first. Only. ]

[fullmetalbrat]

Don't be stupid. Why would I be—? He must have been going after something else without you realizing it. An unconscious subordinate makes for pretty a good cover.

[It would just be ridiculous if Gregor were right, right???]

[vorbarra]

Newly blind and asking for references to healers to check they hadn't overdosed you, rather than to restore his sight? Hard to misinterpret that.

[fullmetalbrat]

[. . . Nope this still doesn't make a lot of sense to him.]

So—he wanted to make sure I wasn't dying. That just seems like something any decent person would do.

[vorbarra]

After the amount of military inspections I've done-- I'm commander in chief, you realize, for a whole empire-- I do know how to read officers.

[ Which is his droll, oblique way of saying, Not buying it. ]

[fullmetalbrat]

I've known him for years. He's the guy that recruited me. Maybe you know your own officers, but you're reading him wrong.

[vorbarra]

[ Wow, he really is like Miles. Unbelievably dense. Gregor decides Mustang probably wouldn't thank him for quoting him directly (I've been dealing with this brat for years; I'm used to the weight) and backs off smoothly. ]

I must be mistaken, then. Clearly he sees you as nothing more than a tool for his own ends.

[ Okay, he can't quite suppress some snark. ]

[fullmetalbrat]

[Snark, a language all Amestrians can speak practically from birth.]

Ha ha, but you're right. What other reason is there for recruiting a kid?

[Possibly Winry isn't the only one with some lingering bitterness.]

[vorbarra]

Desperation, usually.

[ Whoops, that might be getting too real. ]

[fullmetalbrat]

[DO YOU MEAN THE MAIN EXPORT OF AMESTRIS???

Ed scoffs and scowls down at his gloved right hand, clenching it tightly.]

Desperation sounds right.

[vorbarra]

... From both sides, I imagine.

[ Now he sound careful, picking his way out into a minefield. ]

[fullmetalbrat]

Yeah, well . . . He probably had some quota to meet, and I . . .

[His mouth twists unpleasantly and he stuffs his hands into his pockets, posture tensing up even more. This minefield is one he's too aware of, and much too unwilling to let anyone venture into yet.]

Anyway. Where the hell are those neuro books you were talking about?

[vorbarra]

[ Gregor follows that cue without any protest, but he's not surprised there'd be a tangled web of complex relationships beneath the surface with this lot. That's exactly how it is for them, after all. ]

Over here.

[ And he'll just dutifully lead him over to the stacks on neurology and cognitive science, to which Gregor waves a hand at them in absent presentation. ]