Riza Hawkeye walked through her front door, Hayate running past her heels and bounding towards the kitchen. As soon as the door closed behind her the perfect mask of respectability and professionalism broke with an almighty sigh. However – ever the routine, orderly person – the restlessness and frustration now evident in her face and body language didn't stop her from neatly hanging her outer coat and satchel, as well as her shoulder holster, before passing through the kitchen to give Hayate his daily afternoon meal and fixing her customary cup of tea. Drumming her fingers against the countertop Riza decided to change the bottom half of her attire to something alittle more comfortable.
Five minutes later, in slacks and bare feet, she was answering the whistle of the kettle. After the menial task of preparing her tea, Riza meandered over to the living-room, settling in a comfy armchair by the north window, and prepared to relax with her favourite form of entertainment – a good book.
After about a minute she looked up, glancing about, and then returned her gaze to her novel. Not a few seconds later she was shifting in her chair. The next time Riza caught herself she was staring out the window and sighing.
And then she was drumming her fingers.
Then she was tapping her feet.
Finally she got up and paced, aimlessly wandering through the various rooms in her apartment until finally – fifteen minutes later – she stopped back where she'd started. Hayate lay in his dog basket in a corner of the room, head over the edge, eyes following the perplexingly agitated actions of his normally still mistress as if this was a normal occurrence.
"Rrrgh!" Running a hand through her hair in frustration, Riza Hawkeye decided there was nothing else for it and headed towards the shower; Time for my third favourite form of stress relief.
After a little under an hour later, in a homey little café bar tucked away from the main lights of the club and theatre districts, Riza Hawkeye walked in and up to the bar.
However, this was a Riza unrecognisable to the world as 1st Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye; the professional and respected 'Hawk's Eye', the formidable and feared gun-toting 'Ice Queen' or the reserved and elegant just-plain 'Riza'.
A full-length trench-coat covered the her body completely, cinched tightly at the waist emphasising her extremely slender waist with only a slight band of colour peeking above the neck high collar. The slight 'Clack, clack' accompanying her steps told the older woman behind the bar that heels were a likely accessory. Long, blonde hair loose and flowing around her shoulder completed the ensemble. The only other noticeable change was a softened, more vulnerable expression and a slackened posture; almost like a child-like vulnerability in the mature woman, an aura that assured that she would be unrecognisable to those who knew her.
Luckily for her the bar was empty – save for a couple of waiters setting up the tables. The woman behind the bar, recognising the blonde, nodded in acknowledgement then proceeded to polish the beer glasses. In her early forties, her permanently tanned skin and faint rolling accent hinted at foreign origins, her creased face and single working eye an indication of a life of hardship. Still her expression was one of recognition and respect, a welcome better than what she gave most. Reassured about what she was going to do, Riza walked up to the bar, flashing a wry amused half-smile as a segue way.
"Hey stranger"
"Hiya back"
An assessing glance was spared for her trench-coated figure. "I see you got yourself dolled up…"
"Mm, a little bit" the blonde lifted a hand to her fringe then – uncertainly – untie her coat to display long flowing turquoise and verdant material. "Can you help me with the rest? Please?"
"Hmm," putting down the polished beer mug she lifted the end of the bar. "Come to the back."
WitW: I said I'd update and I have...about three weeks later. ¬_¬
This one's a bit of a cliffhanger too, with little secret hints. Just what is it that Riza Hawkeye sneaks away to do when she's not at target practice?
(I don't even know myself XD lol ~ and neither will Roy!*maniacal laughter)
Roy: *whine*Come on Witch, I'm a character! *schmoozer voice*Can't you let me in on the secret?
WitW: *performs the Summoning-Maes-Hughes-Chant to scare Roy off*
Roy: Oh come on! You think that's really going to scare me? I'm the great—
Maes: Hey Roy! I got a whole week's worth of photos to show you! You'll never guess wha— huh?
*In the place of Roy there is now just a puff of smoke*
WitW: Thanks for scaring him off.
Maes: My pleasure. Can't have any spoilers can we, besides if he knows then I can't brag at the end can I?
WitW: *Indulgent smile* No you can't can you? *Sits down and gets comfortable* Now, let's see those pictures of your daughter...
AN: I've always had a soft spot for Maes. I'm a real Daddy's girl myself. And I have this weird feeling that if I ever met a person like that we'd hit it off instantly...
Ps-I'm aware this has nothing-whatsoever-to-do-with-the-story. Indulge me people and write constructive criticism.
Also - finally something to do with the story - I want your conspiracy theories.
Anything, everything, hit me with your best shot!
Just what do you think Riza Hawkeye is doing?