Chapter Text
Roy... might just start coming to the Jörmungandr Theater for more than just Hamilton. Especially once he inevitably got reassigned to Central.
And it was inevitable, they could only shove him into obscurity for so long before they decided they needed to keep a better eye on him. Especially since he had Fullmetal on his team, and the recent murders. And once he was stationed in Central, well...
He might just have a secondary information network in his hands by then.
He'd just have to see what they wanted first. He already knew Alexia was firmly against Bradley, and with this knowledge in mind, even Hamilton got a different meaning. Or perhaps he was projecting his opinions onto the character that was King George. Bradley was much smarter than the character, but it was an obscure way of mocking him, if that was what it was.
But no matter, what he was currently focused on was the music. Every seat had had a pamphlet with a list of the songs to be played that evening, possibly so that people could buy the records that had the songs on them should they wish to do so.
Roy just might. It would go straight beside the three Hamilton soundtracks. Of course, he had three, he listened to them often enough that they would inevitably break and then he would have no soundtrack.
The first song of the evening had been... unsurprisingly... “Pyromania”.
He could appreciate the humor, really, he could, but he also hated himself for liking the song. Though, it would seem they didn't have quite enough songs about fire to be able to use only those. Though many lyrics had fire in them somewhere, the titles themselves did not. Although he couldn't say he was surprised by the many songs with Hell in the title or lyrics. It fit, he supposed. As did the explosion ones.
They even had some about war. Just, in general, not any actual wars. Possibly because they didn't want to trigger anyone with anything that had actually happened, but still wanted to appear patriotic somehow. It was no wonder no one had noticed their anti-military stance. They must've taken inspiration from actual battles and soldiers, but then changed the names and possibly dates too. It was obviously set in the imagined world they had based “Hamilton” in. They probably fudged up a lot of details so that you couldn't immediately draw parallels to any real people.
But some of the songs felt like they were aimed at him specifically. He knew it was stupid to think like that, but-
“The Colonel's Journal” had no true place in the sequence unless it was meant for him!
Although, perhaps it was just because “The fight was never over” was part of the song's lyrics. He remembered both of Doctor Oak's companions saying the phrase. Or, close enough, at least. It had stuck with him, alright?
“Nothing is true.”
The Flame Alchemist flinched, cursing himself for not noticing someone entering the box, having been too deep in thought. Turning around, he was met with the visage of the miner from Youswell. The man's face was unreadable, but his mere presence sent Mustang spiraling.
Just what the hell kind of operation was this so-called theater running!?
He didn't let his perturbed thoughts show on his face though, and instead finished the identification-phrase “Everything is permitted.”
The man nodded, before jerking his head diagonally to the back-left “C'mon. No one's in the halls now, so no one will notice you going backstage, and it's not weird to leave this place after most people have left. You seem to follow that trend, anyway.”
Well, he wasn't wrong. Roy liked to wait until most people had left, then leave once the halls weren't packed with people.
He wasn't sure he wanted to know why these people knew that. Honestly, that tidbit may have just come from Maes, it wasn't incriminating.
This man's presence, however...
The Colonel rose from his seat and followed his escort through the halls, through a door that said “Staff Only” and was locked besides. Made sense to lock it, especially if they were running some sort of operation, whatever it may be.
Honestly, now that he really thought this through, he should maybe have brought backup just in case this got ugly.
But then again, bringing backup might have just made things ugly.
He was finally left in a recording room. It made sense that they had their own, and it also meant that the room was soundproof. All visible recording devices had also been removed. This meeting was going to be serious, he could already tell. He'd assumed, of course, but this-
Well, it told him a lot.
The ravenette sat down on one of the couches to wait, his back to the door. It gave him the chills, but it was best to appear casual at the moment. He shouldn't act like he had any power here.
Besides, he doubted he was in any real danger here. If they had wanted to kill him, they could have done so very long ago, what with Alexia being married to his best friend.
And wasn't that morbid? But he wanted to trust these people... and he wanted them to trust him in return.
Needs must.
He just hoped he was right.
He looked behind him at the sound of the door opening and came face-to-face with Edwina, along with Doctor Oak's two friends. Alexia's sister was the leader, huh. He wasn't as surprised as he thought he'd be.
The woman eyed him as she stepped past the couch, toward the second one “What is our creed?”
The second identification-phrase. They were thorough, if nothing else.
“Safety and peace, brother.” Roy didn't deviate from the written word, no matter how much he wanted to. He did not wish to see what their reaction to that would be.
The brunette nodded as she practically fell into the middle of the rather plush piece of furniture, Marcus taking a spot against the back wall and Jim sitting on the woman's left, on the armrest. To Roy's right.
It seemed they weren't trying to crowd him, but kept themselves within his sight.
This was good.
It told him much.
As had the identification-phrases, if not the hand gesture. He wasn't sure what the hand gesture had meant.
It was a subtle but easily identifiable gesture, though, so kudos to them.
The woman in charge wasn't looking him in the eye, but rather at his tie. Hands clasped, faintly biting her lower lip, elbows on her knees. It was obvious she didn't actually want to have this discussion, whatever it may be.
“... Ishval...” she began, trailing off before taking a deep breath “There aren't really words to describe it. The guys told you already, that we saw things from their side, rather than yours, but... we learned to hide well enough that we did catch sight of the soldiers, too.”
She grew quiet once more, almost hesitant, before she looked him in the eye, a familiar fire in her expression even as he paled at her next words.
“There weren't many eyes like yours. At least, not on Amestris' side of things.”
She had- they had-
Then why-?
“Despair. Disgust. Self-loathing.” she paused, searching his face for something, before continuing “No, there weren't many eyes like yours. But we made note of the ones we saw. We made note... of you.”
That was-
Not what he'd expected.
The ravenette beside her picked up from there “I went to Xing around that time to learn this neat trick they're specialized in. They call in Chi-sensing. It's basically honing that sixth sense you get in battle, but way, way better. I used it to avoid soldiers, mostly, while delivering medicine and stuff to Leo and his friends. Then just Leo. I've gotten better at it over the years, so now I can sense emotions.”
“Which brings us to this conversation.” Edwina explained, straightening to lean against the back of the couch.
“No matter how composed you might have looked on the outside, I could feel that you hadn't changed. You may be able to hide it now, but your eyes are the same. You and yours are good, and Hughes-”
“For my sister to marry a soldier, they'd have to be special. That he is your friend... says a lot for both of you.” the woman continued, her eyes once again fixed somewhere below his eyes, seemingly lost in thought.
Marcus shifted forward, clasping her right shoulder, to which she responded by lifting her left hand to lay on top of his as he chose to speak next “We d'cided... a whil' ago now, 's soon 's we d'cided ta stick togeth'r... tha' things w'rn't ok. An aft'r Ishval? We d'cided to do somethin' 'bout it.”
Edwina huffed as she let a smile form on her face “No one pays attention to performers, nor the people who work in an establishment such as this. There is a reason “actor” and “prostitute” used to be synonyms back in the day. Which...” she trailed off, once again unsure of how to formulate things “It wasn't like we set out to do it, but gradually we formed a network. Coming up with codes is easy when you work in a place like this, and those who cannot stomach living here go to places there are fewer people. Less soldiers. So, we're very spread out... so...”
She looked him in the eye once more “You can take the high road while we take the low. We can help each other in ways you might not expect. We have many places where you can hide yourself or other people, we have many ways of making sure people are who they say they are or can be trusted. And, should you ever be trapped by those above you, we can help you from the outside, where no one looks. No one high up cares about us, only the Ishval veterans who feel like you do keep coming back for the real things. And-” she cut off, glancing at the ravenette to her left “after Leo's little episode, we found some of our people who could help. So, seeing as the Military's Psychologists aren't trustworthy... should you or yours need a therapist,” she said, looking at him in a way that told him that she thought he needed said therapist even if he denied it “we've got you covered.”
Roy clenched his hands together as his mind whirred around what he'd been told and what had been implied “What exactly are you hoping to achieve?”
He needed to know.
Edwina straightened her posture once again, leaning against the back of the couch, Marcus had moved his hand away once she didn't need the support anymore “We have some people in the military, not something we encouraged but, well, it happened. Your ambition isn't exactly a secret. I told you already, we know what kind of person you are. And if you were to succeed... it could only mean good things. For everyone.”
That didn't- “You know what I did-” he snapped.
“And we know how you feel about what you did!” Edwina snapped right back.
Roy glanced at Jim, whose brows were furrowed even as he was looking away. Of course. The man could feel everything Roy kept behind his public masks. It would be impossible to hide from him. But-
“Feeling guilty does not absolve me.”
“Perhaps not. But it's a start. The only thing you can do is redeem yourself through your actions. It is a debt you will be paying for the rest of your life. Death would not absolve you either. Dying is easy, young man, living is harder.”
This woman.
Roy chuckled “A partnership, then?”
Edwina grinned, stretching her hand over to him “A partnership, Roy Mustang.” she said as they shook hands.
