milliways_bar | (no subject)

Roy Mustang is unfamiliar with pizza, so while the smell is intriguing, it's not one that he deems worthy of investigation. And, as he does not generally walk around with his nose in the air, he doesn't notice Steph.

He does, however, look oddly content with the state of his existence.

Nevermind that the collar of his uniform coat looks a bit... out of place. Almost as if someone grabbed it and pulled, and he was so preoccupied that he didn't even notice.

There is a certain technique to dropping out of the rafters. Earlier today, Steph demonstrated How Not To Do It, when she crashlanded on Molly's table. Now, she gets it just right.

Well, would, if she wasn't still shoving the last slice in her mouth. Blonde teenagers lack a certain intimidation factor to begin with, and blonde pizza-eating teenagers, mmm, yeah, it really doesn't work so well.

But there's a Steph! Landing just in front of him, out of NOWHERE.

Unless, of course, they drop down right in front of you during the process. After all, anyone's face distorted by the stuffing of food can be a bit alarming (even to someone familiar with mess hall manners).

Roy instinctively drops into a crouch, right eye narrowing and a now-gloved hand coming up in front of him, fingers poised to snap at any second and the oxygen concentration around Steph boosted exponentially. Then he realizes who it is, and relaxes. Marginally.

'You are Edward's friend,' he says calmly. 'We've met, but I don't believe that anyone told me your name.'

"I'm Robin," Steph says. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She isn't, at all. But saying that as an opening gambit brings the question of hurt up nicely, and reminds people that she's - usually - capable of hurting them.

"I just want to talk."

Pizza swallowed, she folds her arms and gives him a level gaze.

And as a dog of the military, that's also what Roy is trained to do. Efficiently. Alchemy in the name of warfare, no matter the personal burden.

'Well then, Robin,' he replies, and it's obvious by his tone that he's more or less aware the term isn't her real name. His gaze is equally level and dispassionate. 'If you believe that we have something to discuss, then by all means let us proceed. Shall we sit?'

Steph gestures toward the booths, in the back.

"I think that's a good idea, don't you?"

She's still using what she thinks of as the Robin Voice - not the Bat Voice, that's different, but the Robin one. Cool, calm, prepared to understand and be reasonable, but with a hint of a threat behind it.

Steph likes the Robin voice.

'I believe so. Judging by your tone, this may not be a conversation that we would wish to hold where it might be subjected to mass public scrutiny.' Roy's a good judge of people. When you have his aspirations, you have to be.

He heads for a booth in the back, where it's quieter and more sparsely occupied.

Once they're seated, Steph leans back, folding her arms, and waits.

Roy leans back in his seat and observes her calmly. He's not one to be easily intimidated, though that doesn't mean he's without a measure of guarded caution. A good soldier always is. If he doesn't keep that around him, well. It's hard to be a good soldier when you're dead.

'I believe that as the instigator of this converation, it would be most apropos if you would enlighten me as to its nature.'

"Can you think of anything I might want to talk to you about?" Steph enquires lightly, dropping a pointed glance at his collar and gaining a small, pleasant smile.

It takes a moment for Roy to grasp her meaning. After all, when Edward Elric has his tongue in your mouth, the state of your dress tends to be rather far from your mind, and it's a mental state that lingers for a good deal of time after the event itself. Roy reaches up and brushes his fingertips over the disturbed fabric.

'Ah. You have concerns, I take it.'

Which he understands, and on the whole rather approves of. Ed needs someone to look out for him, after all.

"You're thirty-one," Steph states, frankly. "He's not yet seventeen."

Not judgemental; just stating the facts.

"You're also his superior officer, I believe?"

'I'm quite aware of the discrepancy in our ages.' Roy arches his right eyebrow.

'And I was his superior officer. After he went off to that parallel world, he effectively left my command.'