maskormenace | 1, Video

[Even if the video feed is rolling, the blonde woman on the camera is apparently unaware of it. Or rather, she seems to be regarding the camera with a perpetually sour expression.] This little thing...? Tch, this is absurd. I have better things to be doing.

[Instantly, her voice changes, taking on an authoritative tone; she is clearly someone who expects her words to be smartly and quickly obeyed. She's carrying herself differently, too, the expression on her face and in icy blue eyes no longer sour but fierce.] This is Major General Armstrong in a wide-frequency broadcast to any Amestrian military units within range. Major Miles, Buccaneer, if you're hearing this, contact me ASAP; we'll regroup.

[She pauses, glancing to the side and muttering to herself; without her trusted aide or field commander, her options are limited. It may be apparent at this point that she is unaware of the video portion of this broadcast.] ...Hell, at this point I'll even take Mustang. He can't be any worse than that good-for-nothing coward brother of mine.

[Her voice and expression change again, returning to her sense of authority, this time with a slight tinge of added contempt.] And Fuhrer Bradley, if you're hearing this, consider this my resignation, you cyclopean son of a bitch.

Armstrong out.

[She reaches for the device, and after a moment of fiddling around with it, the line abruptly goes silent.]

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[Well. She seems...pleasant.]

Good day, ma'am; Miles Edgeworth. [A lesser man might make a joke here about "not the Miles you're looking for," but Edgeworth is not a lesser man.]

Are you perhaps referring to Roy Mustang?

[Not her Miles, no. He's a badass. And this guy's wearing a... cravat?

Wait, she can see him? So he can see her, then. Hm. She keeps her expression neutral, though he might be able to see her gritting her teeth at that name.] Male, average height, unkempt black hair, a perpetual aura of incompetence about him, yes?

Then he's here as well.

[Dammit she was kind of joking she's not sure she actually wants Mustang to be here.]

[It's clear that they're talking about the same man, but like hell is Edgeworth going to be party to blatant slandering of a good man.]

No; apparently not. We must be speaking of different individuals: Colonel Mustang is highly competent.

[GULP! He almost felt that icy chill down his back at just seeing her face on the network. But, maybe Al shouldn't be surprised that Major Armstrong's sister showed up around the same time but he kind of is.

Al didn't except the Ice Queen of Briggs at all.

Can he go crawl into a hole to hide now?]

[Better to face the music now than the wrath later.]

M-major General Armstrong! I'm afraid there aren't any units, just some of the alchemists.

[At that she actually laughs, a short, braying bark.] Competent? Him?!

Maybe by the standards of his Eastern army, but he wouldn't last two days in the North.

[Oh. Now this is interesting. Mildly disappointing, but she hadn't really expected Miles or Buccaneer to be around.] Elric.

Alchemists, hm? I know about Mustang and my brother. Who else is there?

Hmph. I take it you are from the North.

[If they are, they've been especially quiet.]

Just my brother but Winry is here too and Lt. Hawkeye was for a while but left.

That should have been obvious.

It's possible I could toughen him up with half a year on icicle duty, but I wouldn't bet on it.

Correct me if I am wrong, ma'am. But if someone under your command would crumble in as little as two days, is that not a problem with your unit rather than with them? A good leader, after all, ensures that newcomers have adequate time to adjust to their surroundings, to give them the best chance of acclimating and adjusting to the life there.

[Winry... the girl they'd had with them. And Hawkeye, Mustang's aide. She files this information carefully away.]

She "left." Surely not of her own choice, if Mustang is here.

[Oh no you fucking didn't, Edgeworth.]

Briggs has little mercy for those who fail to adapt. There's a reason my men are known as the toughest in the nation, and it isn't because I've held their hands all the way.

He wouldn't make the cut. Simple.

[ Amestrian military. Interesting. Major General seems to be one of the higher ones so she'll tuck that away for now. Fuhrer is another peculiar choice, but she's not going to get into a discussion about that today. ]

Your brother. [ Flatly spoken. ]

The one earlier?

And you would determine this in the span of two days.

I've known Mustang for much longer than two days.

But yes. Over the years, you develop an eye for that sort of thing. Even cowards can show glimmers of promise.

If they don't, they leave in disgrace or in a box.

[Sigh.]

Unfortunately.

[A nod of his helmet.]

Everyone leaves the same way we're brought. But the other two people who are here, you wouldn't know. [Read as: you aren't supposed to know.

Good thing about being a suit of armor is having the best poker face in the world.]

[And Edgeworth's voice goes very dry.]

An eye. I see. Convenient, then, that all who are not up to your eye's standards are forced out in disgrace in a matter of days; after all, if they were to succeed, that would undermine your snap judgment. And God forbid we have to question ourselves.

[Somehow, even over the video screen, he can tell that he's been given a very capital-L Look.]

I don't care if I knew them before or not, Elric. Tell me about them or don't waste my time.

[EEP! He is very used to getting Looks from Winry and Teacher but that doesn't make it any easier to take.

Al holds up his hands.]

It would really be a lot easier to explain everything to you in person. [AKA don't trust the communication devices.]

For a man as in love with his own self-righteousness as you are, you assume more than you should.

It might be two days. It might be two weeks, or two months. They'll crack sooner or later, and won't take long to figure out who they are. The capable adapt to Briggs, the weak give up. And if they don't give up, they die.

Survive, or don't. Your commander can only hold your hand so much.

[She gets the meaning immediately.] I'll find you, then.

Where are you?

Ah. A fine philosophy. I wonder how many soldiers with true potential have been wrecked upon the shores of your pride.

Family. [ Natasha speaks with ire in her tone as if she can relate.

She doesn't, but no need to let that up. ] Not many are as lucky as you.

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