She's beauty and she's grace, she'll punch you in the face

[incendere]

WHO: Roy Mustang & Olivier Armstrong
WHERE: Some classy bar who do you think this is
WHEN: Backdated to August 3rd
WHAT: Chatting about the state of things, sharing information, embarrassing the Major General in public
WARNINGS: Major General Armstrong??

[The bar Roy chose was fancier than some of its neighbors, but that merely meant that the decor was a little classier, the music not as loud, and the drinks and food a tad more expensive. There's a comfortable murmur of chatter amongst the other patrons, and though it's crowded, it's not suffocatingly so.

Roy sits at a table towards the back, away from most of the activity of the room, a glass of whiskey already cradled in his hands as he waits for the Major General. True to tradition (or for ultimate irritation on her part), there's a box by his elbow, wrapped with a bow and a single sprig of lavender attached to it.

Roy takes a sip and glances at the clock. Almost nine. Perhaps now was a good time to close his tab at the bar.]

Comments

[darwinatrix]

[And at precisely 8:59, Olivier Armstrong is there, cutting a swathe through the crowd with her tall, imposing, stature. She glances down at him, down at the unmistakable box on the table, and her lip curls down in a sour expression. Of course. Mustang never changes.

She sits without comment.] Whiskey, neat. On your tab.

Hello, Mustang.

[incendere]

[If there is one thing that could be said about the Major General, it was that she knew how to draw the attention of a room. The fact that most of the other patrons were looking after her with frightened stares was another thing entirely.

As she sits, Roy waves down a waiter to relay her order, suppressing the sigh when he tells them to add it to his tab. When the waiter's gone:]

Major General. It's been a while.

[Even if it meant I would end up paying for you.]

From what I hear, it sounds like you've had a busy couple of weeks. I appreciate your taking the time to meet me.

[darwinatrix]

[She leans back slightly in her chair, one hand drumming a beat on the wooden armrest, the other curling against her chin.] It was busier a month ago. Now the work is done, we have staff and a workspace. The only thing to do is wait for some idiot to give us a target.

Taylor playing hero with that Archangel organization means we need a win soon.

[incendere]

Considering some of the people here, I doubt we'll have to wait that long until they give one to us.

[He takes a sip from his drink as the waiter comes back with her order.]

While it's true that Mr. Taylor was not as successful as he hoped, it wasn't a complete failure. The fact that they accepted your proposal means that they're willing to work with us as much as possible. If that's the case, then it may be used to our advantage in the future.

[darwinatrix]

I'd have at even described it as a success. [She takes her whiskey, raises it and lets the light filter through the amber liquid.] Until the idiot got himself caught. Now they're just a liability.

But they may yet be the stick to RISE's carrot.

[She takes a sip, larger than most might.] But you didn't call me here to chit-chat, Mustang. Let's get on with it.

[incendere]

What's wrong, Major General? Don't tell me you're rushing off to meet another date after this?

[It's a small jibe, but it allows him to glance around the room at the other patrons and staff. One could never be too cautious in times like these, after all.

Once satisfied, he leans forward a little.]

Commander Shepard informed me of what he saw during that time people were having hallucinations about this place. Despite the circumstances, it was quite interesting to hear about. I was merely curious to know if you experienced anything similar.

[darwinatrix]

[Mustang's antics earn him an icy glare but little more, as she leans forward to hear him better over the din of the establishment.] I did not. I've heard some, but not Shepard's account.

What did he tell you?