Categories > Anime/Manga > Full Metal Alchemist > Hughes v. Kimblee
A week later, they still had no tent mate, and Kimblee had been declared AWOL, a heavy price on his head. Roy got back to the room at the same time as Maes, and they lingered outside, enjoying the thin breeze that came in the evening. They hadn't spoken of the event since they burned the clothes, and they were on pins, wondering how long the military would look of Kimblee... strangely, they had never known Kimblee's full name, but now it had been used by their superior officer.
"Zolf Jork..." Maes suddenly said, and Roy cringed.
"Please don't talk about him... I'm still kinda." Roy stopped, and the two went into the tent... then stopped dead.
There, on his old bunk, in an extra uniform, was Kimblee, lazily peeling some sort of root with a battered pocket knife. He sliced off a piece, and stabbed it with the knife, putting it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, his eyes sparkling with an unknown emotion as he regarded the two. He finally swallowed and swung to stand up.
"How..." was all Maes got out before Kimblee held up one inked hand in the quiet sign. He smiled.
"You know how sand is easy to dig in?" he said, his smile widening. "It's also loose enough to give air." He flicked a hand dismissively, and began to peel again.
"What... what will..." Roy started and Kimblee cut him off.
"Not so sure yet... I could go tell Archer... after all, I need some excuse for being gone so long... but maybe I'll cut you a break." As he said this, he sliced off another piece and put it in his mouth. Then he smiled, cut another piece and offered it to their direction. "Want one?"
They both shook their head, not sure what it was he was eating. He shrugged again. "Well then. Its time for you all to listen... I'll do the talking. I was gone because I was scouting an enemy camp, I got back last night. I am very sorry, but at least I got the coordinates." he finished, and let them think on it.
"Why are you helping us?" Roy finally asked. Kimblee smiled.
"I might need your help someday, it's useful to have something to hold over people... it really is." he took another bit of the root, and then sat back down.
"Oh, and check the pulse before you bury someone... or hold a mirror to their mouth, especially with a head wound, it's the most reliable factor." He chewed thoughtfully. "You sure you don't want any? It helps that damn thirst that persists in this hellhole." Maes took a deep breath and took the piece he was now offering, half expecting Kimblee to stab him in the hand, but the knife was still, and he put it in his mouth, expecting a dirty taste, but it was a little tart, and almost seemed to turn to water in his mouth.
"What is that?" He asked after he finished. Kimblee shrugged.
"No clue... but the Ishballians eat it when they're on a journey." He kept peeling. "They don't peel it though... I suppose it must have more vitamins in the peel... most roots are like that. But the peel tastes very strongly of cloves, and is sort of unpleasant." He kept peeling, and Roy blinked.
"You're never this friendly.... This is the most words I think you've ever said without trying to wound..." He said slowly, hoping Kimblee wouldn't suddenly decide not to lie to Archer.
"True... I'm not friendly by nature... and it won't happen again for awhile... but this root is a little bit narcotic, so it helps my friendly-factor." He snickered, and Maes felt a little calmer. Somewhere deep in his mind, he knew he should feel angry at being fed a drug unaware, but somehow, it was too much work to get angry, so he sat down on his bed.
Roy was still sober, and now livid. "You drugged him!" Roy yelled, and Kimblee's eyes narrowed.
"I didn't do anything. If he wants it, I'll give it... besides, it's a good feeling." He cut a piece and offered it to Roy, who stared at it for a long time. It was white with slight red marbled in, and had a drop of liquid hanging off a cut angle. He took a deep breath and popped in his mouth, then lay down to sleep, wondering what would happen now. Soon he heard Kimblee leave the tent, and all these was, was a warm feeling, then sleep.
"Zolf Jork..." Maes suddenly said, and Roy cringed.
"Please don't talk about him... I'm still kinda." Roy stopped, and the two went into the tent... then stopped dead.
There, on his old bunk, in an extra uniform, was Kimblee, lazily peeling some sort of root with a battered pocket knife. He sliced off a piece, and stabbed it with the knife, putting it in his mouth. He chewed slowly, his eyes sparkling with an unknown emotion as he regarded the two. He finally swallowed and swung to stand up.
"How..." was all Maes got out before Kimblee held up one inked hand in the quiet sign. He smiled.
"You know how sand is easy to dig in?" he said, his smile widening. "It's also loose enough to give air." He flicked a hand dismissively, and began to peel again.
"What... what will..." Roy started and Kimblee cut him off.
"Not so sure yet... I could go tell Archer... after all, I need some excuse for being gone so long... but maybe I'll cut you a break." As he said this, he sliced off another piece and put it in his mouth. Then he smiled, cut another piece and offered it to their direction. "Want one?"
They both shook their head, not sure what it was he was eating. He shrugged again. "Well then. Its time for you all to listen... I'll do the talking. I was gone because I was scouting an enemy camp, I got back last night. I am very sorry, but at least I got the coordinates." he finished, and let them think on it.
"Why are you helping us?" Roy finally asked. Kimblee smiled.
"I might need your help someday, it's useful to have something to hold over people... it really is." he took another bit of the root, and then sat back down.
"Oh, and check the pulse before you bury someone... or hold a mirror to their mouth, especially with a head wound, it's the most reliable factor." He chewed thoughtfully. "You sure you don't want any? It helps that damn thirst that persists in this hellhole." Maes took a deep breath and took the piece he was now offering, half expecting Kimblee to stab him in the hand, but the knife was still, and he put it in his mouth, expecting a dirty taste, but it was a little tart, and almost seemed to turn to water in his mouth.
"What is that?" He asked after he finished. Kimblee shrugged.
"No clue... but the Ishballians eat it when they're on a journey." He kept peeling. "They don't peel it though... I suppose it must have more vitamins in the peel... most roots are like that. But the peel tastes very strongly of cloves, and is sort of unpleasant." He kept peeling, and Roy blinked.
"You're never this friendly.... This is the most words I think you've ever said without trying to wound..." He said slowly, hoping Kimblee wouldn't suddenly decide not to lie to Archer.
"True... I'm not friendly by nature... and it won't happen again for awhile... but this root is a little bit narcotic, so it helps my friendly-factor." He snickered, and Maes felt a little calmer. Somewhere deep in his mind, he knew he should feel angry at being fed a drug unaware, but somehow, it was too much work to get angry, so he sat down on his bed.
Roy was still sober, and now livid. "You drugged him!" Roy yelled, and Kimblee's eyes narrowed.
"I didn't do anything. If he wants it, I'll give it... besides, it's a good feeling." He cut a piece and offered it to Roy, who stared at it for a long time. It was white with slight red marbled in, and had a drop of liquid hanging off a cut angle. He took a deep breath and popped in his mouth, then lay down to sleep, wondering what would happen now. Soon he heard Kimblee leave the tent, and all these was, was a warm feeling, then sleep.
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