Categories > Anime/Manga > Full Metal Alchemist > Come
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Some towns were too small to be worth mentioning. They had hardly been worth naming in the first place, adopting the name of whoever had stopped there and obdurately refused to travel any further. Every countryside possessed a scattering of them, clearings and riverbanks, rocky bits of forced farm and pastures possessing an artistically arranged smattering of bovines, which housed the scions of one stubborn ancestor or another.
The cows made sense, wandering placidly along haphazard fences separating them from scraggly patches of desperate crops. The gap-toothed smiles of dirty children made sense. What made Havoc narrow his eyes, ever so slightly bite down on the crumpled cigarette between his teeth, was a bright bit of cloth that adorned a rather worn out looking doll firmly in possession of one gawking child. Albeit torn and soiled (with what Havoc fervently hoped was nothing more then a bit of dried mud), it bore a remarkable resemblance to one of Ling's favorite shirts. And honestly, how many individuals in Amestris tended towards Ling's singular taste in wardrobes?
"Damn, damn, daaaaaaaamn." Havoc muttered around the soggy bit of cigarette. Kinds never were his strong point. They should have sent Alphonse on this one. The kid was good with people. But, well, Ed was a scary sort of frantic over Ling's long absence. Like hell anyone was going to pry Alphonse out of his sight.
Adopting what he hoped was a non-threatening sort of manner Havoc lazily made his way over to where the children were playing. Squatting down so his lanky height was less of an imposing factor he beamed at the gap-toothed face of the doll-bearing child, "That's a pretty dolly."
"Her name is Jenny." Innocently happy to have someone to boast about her beloved doll to, a bit of wariness left the girl's wide eyes.
"Don' talk to strangers."
Hell. Havoc looked up, meeting the narrowed glare of what had to be a Big Brother. Only older brothers looked that possessively ready to fight when someone came around little girls. "Don't worry about me. I'm just passing through." Havoc stood, slouching just a little, and offered the youth his hand. "I'm Jean." When his hand was ignored, Havoc pulled his arm back with a shrug. "Your ma must be some sort of seamstress, making something pretty as that there doll."
Deciding that Havoc couldn't be all that bad of a guy, seeing as he had said something no nice about his mother, the kid loosened up enough to shrug. "She sure is. People are always liking her dolls."
"She make the clothing for them too?" Havoc whistled in appreciation. "That is some fine work on the shirt there. Amazing embroidery on the cloth."
"Aw, she just found the scrap of cloth. Made a nice shirt out of it."
Bingo. "Found it, huh? Bet someone is feeling a draft somewhere, with a piece that big ripped from their clothes." Nonchalant...stay nonchalant...children could be like feral dogs; they could smell the emotion in you. He didn't want to get them all riled up and suspicious again by being overeager. After all, he was merely some fellow what wandered through and was taken in by a shiny bit of cloth on a well-made doll...
"I dun know. The whole shirt was out there. Kinda beat up and torn." He nodded sagely; most likely copying an expression he had seen on his father face, most definitely imitating the vocal tone. "Don't suppose whoever it belongs too will need it anymore. Looked like there had been a fight of some sort."
Ah. Hell. Exactly the opposite of what Havoc had been hoping to hear. In a perfect world Ling would be curled in the kitchen of this house, flattering some unsuspecting housewife into making him a fourth or fifth lunch...
"Well, be sure to tell your ma I liked her doll there. I need to get going though." Havoc cracked a forced grin around his drooping cigarette and started off. What the hell was he going to tell Ed?
At least he was going to be safely on the other end of the phone. Mustang, on the other hand, was not going to be so lucky...
Some towns were too small to be worth mentioning. They had hardly been worth naming in the first place, adopting the name of whoever had stopped there and obdurately refused to travel any further. Every countryside possessed a scattering of them, clearings and riverbanks, rocky bits of forced farm and pastures possessing an artistically arranged smattering of bovines, which housed the scions of one stubborn ancestor or another.
The cows made sense, wandering placidly along haphazard fences separating them from scraggly patches of desperate crops. The gap-toothed smiles of dirty children made sense. What made Havoc narrow his eyes, ever so slightly bite down on the crumpled cigarette between his teeth, was a bright bit of cloth that adorned a rather worn out looking doll firmly in possession of one gawking child. Albeit torn and soiled (with what Havoc fervently hoped was nothing more then a bit of dried mud), it bore a remarkable resemblance to one of Ling's favorite shirts. And honestly, how many individuals in Amestris tended towards Ling's singular taste in wardrobes?
"Damn, damn, daaaaaaaamn." Havoc muttered around the soggy bit of cigarette. Kinds never were his strong point. They should have sent Alphonse on this one. The kid was good with people. But, well, Ed was a scary sort of frantic over Ling's long absence. Like hell anyone was going to pry Alphonse out of his sight.
Adopting what he hoped was a non-threatening sort of manner Havoc lazily made his way over to where the children were playing. Squatting down so his lanky height was less of an imposing factor he beamed at the gap-toothed face of the doll-bearing child, "That's a pretty dolly."
"Her name is Jenny." Innocently happy to have someone to boast about her beloved doll to, a bit of wariness left the girl's wide eyes.
"Don' talk to strangers."
Hell. Havoc looked up, meeting the narrowed glare of what had to be a Big Brother. Only older brothers looked that possessively ready to fight when someone came around little girls. "Don't worry about me. I'm just passing through." Havoc stood, slouching just a little, and offered the youth his hand. "I'm Jean." When his hand was ignored, Havoc pulled his arm back with a shrug. "Your ma must be some sort of seamstress, making something pretty as that there doll."
Deciding that Havoc couldn't be all that bad of a guy, seeing as he had said something no nice about his mother, the kid loosened up enough to shrug. "She sure is. People are always liking her dolls."
"She make the clothing for them too?" Havoc whistled in appreciation. "That is some fine work on the shirt there. Amazing embroidery on the cloth."
"Aw, she just found the scrap of cloth. Made a nice shirt out of it."
Bingo. "Found it, huh? Bet someone is feeling a draft somewhere, with a piece that big ripped from their clothes." Nonchalant...stay nonchalant...children could be like feral dogs; they could smell the emotion in you. He didn't want to get them all riled up and suspicious again by being overeager. After all, he was merely some fellow what wandered through and was taken in by a shiny bit of cloth on a well-made doll...
"I dun know. The whole shirt was out there. Kinda beat up and torn." He nodded sagely; most likely copying an expression he had seen on his father face, most definitely imitating the vocal tone. "Don't suppose whoever it belongs too will need it anymore. Looked like there had been a fight of some sort."
Ah. Hell. Exactly the opposite of what Havoc had been hoping to hear. In a perfect world Ling would be curled in the kitchen of this house, flattering some unsuspecting housewife into making him a fourth or fifth lunch...
"Well, be sure to tell your ma I liked her doll there. I need to get going though." Havoc cracked a forced grin around his drooping cigarette and started off. What the hell was he going to tell Ed?
At least he was going to be safely on the other end of the phone. Mustang, on the other hand, was not going to be so lucky...
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