This is really short, but the next chapters will be longer. I just started this as a break from life...kinda. Thought it would be a fun idea to play with, and somewhere to make use of some of the concepts I learned in art class, maybe. Feel free to criticize, flame (literally?), whatever!
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What would he think of this? Roy studied the painting with a false eye of interest. There were two other people standing around looking at the painting, which depicted the Elric brothers, both human. One was a local artist, a chubby man with a curly black mustache. The other, a skinny woman who looked anxious for a closer look. Roy noticed her anxiousness and moved closer to the painting. A second later, he yawned.
The woman's face flushed with anger, but she remarkably retained her composure. Roy was surprised, nonetheless. Usually the people of art bore very furious tempers when tampered with and, with the Elric brothers gone, it was one of the only things he found entertaining. Others in the gallery found him entertaining as well--he gained the nickname "The Cause of Flaming Rage," from the gallery operators and the regular visitors who found seeing a different side to their cocky and confident artists refreshing. It even gave the gallery more business.
Roy lazily raised one hand, as if observing one of the lines on Edward's jacket with his finger, though his face looked dazed. He partially obscured the view of the portrait from the woman. The man had realized immediately who the man was, shook his head and went to the next painting.
A tap came to his shoulder. "Sir," the woman said as persuasively and politely as the combination allowed. "Would you mind moving for a moment so I may observe this art?"
An eyebrow went up, as did the other hand--connecting the line from the shoulder of the jacket to the end of the sleeve. The woman shifted her feet impatiently. "Sir?" she asked again. "Are you deaf?"
An elderly chuckled as they walked past. "He can hear you, dear," the old woman said fondly.
A confused expression appeared on Roy's face as his two hands somehow connected together Alphonse's right hand and Edward's left arm. Blinking in confusion and wrinkling his brows together, he looked closer to see what he had done wrong.
"Sir, can you--" she was cut off as Roy suddenly stepped back and walked away, hands in his pockets and calmly whistling to himself.
"There's the Cause of Flaming Rage, Mama," said a young boy, who didn't appear at all interested in the portrait his mother was studying..
"Say hi to him, dear," his mother said, her eyes not leaving the abstract painting. The brunette boy ran over and tugged at Roy's sleeve. "Hi, Sir," he said, grinning.
Roy smiled, content, and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a lollipop. The boy took it cheerfully and ran back to his mother.
"Are you ready to go home, sir?" Riza asked, she had just arrived ten minutes ago and was waiting by the door.
Roy was still smiling to himself as he walked past her. "I think so."
