A/N: Heyoz. Thanks everyone who reviewed. The delay for this crap was RIDICULOUS. I'm not gonna get over the original being deleted, but as all things do, life (and this story) must indeed progress. SO without further a due: Chapter 12.
Warnings: Language, discriminations, touchy sort of subjects…
Pairings: Envy x Ed, implied Bruno x Envy x Sonny
Disclaimers: I'm pretty sure everyone knows I don't own FMA by now so yah…
Chapter 12: Giving Thanks for Floozies
Strange enough I was in our school gym…but it was no longer the mass of chaos I had left it, but as empty as ever.
"Interesting…" I murmured to myself.
"I know, right? Friggin amazing." A voice jumped in behind me enthusiastically. I spun around to find Edward Elric…or someone, something that looked very much like him-only not like him. Fuck, I can't make any sense right now. It was Edward's basic features but just not Edward okay? Not his personality. Not his presentation. Not even his fucken clothing!
This Edward Elric wore a pair of jersey shorts low on toned, 'too rounded to be a boy's' hips. I'd bet the roundness came from the muscle...What looked to be like a quarter of the Jersey's top was stretched over a well formed, tanned expanse of chest and muscle, while the shorty's usually bound hair hung past his shoulders and fell messily in his face-as if he'd just been playing a fierce sort of game.
"You're late." He said, adjusting the ball under his arm and peeking at me impishly from underneath long tendrils of hair.
"Late for what?" I asked incredulously, looking at the boy as if he'd lost his mind. I didn't even know this shorty. What the hell would I be late for? In my dream of all things?
"This is when we fuck, remember?" He insisted, sauntering over to me and nuzzling his face into my neck. I was honestly surprised he could reach.
"But that's okay. Fun has no real schedule." He purred, wrapping his arms around my neck. Next thing I knew, something long and hot was moving up my neck and I jumped away from Ed, his amber eyes twinkling at me mischievously as he flashed his teeth lecherously and twirled a lock of hair. He chuckled or giggled or something-but the sound was light on the air yet managed to make the gym quake and the temperature rise. My body was hot.
"Aww Envy don't be like that. We can just play ball if you want. I mean, we're both pretty good at it….should be fun right..." He trailed off, winking at me suggestively and twirling the orange hunk of whatever basketballs are made of (rubber?) on the tip of his finger. The shorter of the Elrics' stared up into my eyes and I was reminded briefly of an elfin sort of demon. The small flighty kind that bite you when you're sleeping...
"No!" I said indignantly, getting a bit unnerved and smacking the ball out my face, only to blink and have it there twirling forever more on Ed's finger tip-like it'd never went anywhere in the first place. Ed simply rolled his eyes and grinned before whipping around in a flourish and draping himself over the bleachers. A champagne glass instantly appeared in stead of the basketball. He took a lazy sip and made a contented hum.
"What is that?" I demanded.
"Gatorade. Want some?" He offered, raising the glass filled with red liquid in my direction. I glared. Did I look like someone who wanted fucken Gatorade…in a champagne glass? Just who did this Ed think he was fooling? Thought he was so cool and self confident… (grumbles)
"Not in the least." I muttered, dryly, looking at this Ed suspiciously. Tumbleweed bounced through the gym in our silence, until Ed finally grew restless. He tossed the champagne glass to the floor and pouted his lips in satisfaction as it shattered to pieces.
"Are you gonna just stand there like you're brain dead?" Ed asked, bored, throwing the ball (which randomly appeared again) at me playfully-in the same manner a sprite might splash water in a bird bath (or magical fairy puddle of sorts at you. I caught the ball easily, throwing it somewhere over my shoulder in disdain. Ed's) eyes still twinkled at me and he smiled and shrugged innocently.
"Fine...maybe balls aren't as common as I'd originally thought." He made a small 'hrm' sound and focused his eyes on me in a wicked expression.
"Since this is my dream and all...there should be a restart button around here someone if I want it enough right? I mean surely you must come with a remote control..." I tried reasoning with the elfin blonde boy. He snickered.
"Nope. I'm all auto drive, baby." He purred. "Wanna see what I can do?" This statement accompanied by another one of those suggestive winks. I sighed.
"Let me get back to you on that while I curse every and all things okay?"
"Ok."
Yah. I needed some time to figure out THY THE HELL THIS WASN'T GOING MY WAY? AS IN ENVY'S WAY?
This Edward was a bit too-not Ed ward-ish for me. I mean he was so god damned mouthy! I and my usual dream Edward had a nice communication system going on! It consisted of 'yes, please', 'no, please', 'harder, please', 'faster, please'-things like that! But this one….this one…. Not only was he trying to embarrass me but he was almost succeeding. Envy didn't do embarrassment very well. Hardly ever, in fact.
I grew tired of this. Sexy or not there was always one true way to deal with blonde, elfin shorties.
"Let's get something straight, shorty." I growled, leaping upon the bleachers and pinning Ed in a manner I hoped would shake up the foundation of his attitude a bit. No dice. A dreamy sort of smile played at the boy's full...lips instead.
"I'm listening, Envy." He said as calm as ever, still starring directly into my face, amber eyes glazed over in a false sort of mellow.
"This is my dream. You're submissive to me damnit!" I hissed, shaking him. Ed made a confused expression and pouted his lips. I pulled his hair for emphasis and he growled and pressed his body against me.
"Orwwwzah….Eddi-boy likes it rough! C'mere you!" He demanded, forgetting for the moment I was in control.
"Ack! Control yourself. What the hell is wrong with you...did your parents let you get into the coffee jar again?" He doesn't answer, just shrugs and looks at me innocently.
"Well anywho...I always let you been on top. Is that a problem now? I mean I could be on top if you-" His lips started to curve into another one of those evil little grins before I cut him off with another sharp pull on his hair.
"Okay...the first time was kinda sexy...but you're pushing the limits and now it's getting kinda irritating..."The boy drawled beneath me, scowling as if I'd blow a dandelion in his face.
"No! Stop being so chatty." I commanded.
"Well I wouldn't be so chatty if someone was doing their job." He remarked, fixing himself under me in such a way that he probably would've crossed his arms if he could. A moment was spent like this before I sighed.
"You want me to fuck you?" I asked in bored tone, figuring that if I did he might go away and end my suffering.
"Don't try to make this about me, mister. You want to fuck me? Just say so please. No-as a matter of fact-just do it." Okay...so this shorty was mouthy, quirky, rude and horny...I must've been missing something. Must've sold a chunk of my soul to the devil before I went to sleep and now he gave into some other entity to torture me with...cuz I sure as hell didn't seem to be meeting the bar today.
"Oh what the hell." I sighed, deciding to make the best of the dream.
It didn't take long to have Ed laid out over the bleachers, moaning and moving against me.
"Uh huh….now you get it…." He sighed contentedly, shivering as I took one long languid lick up his spine and the base of his neck. The air was thick and heady with the smell of sex and rubber- courtesy of Ed's stupid basketball.
My hands took their time feeling out Ed's flesh and slipping through the sweat coating his body….from the span of his shoulders to the plane of his chest to the valley of his thighs….
The thing about dreams was that even though you had free reign. There was always an un known time limit. Some idiot could wake you up by blowing up your house or trying to make you go to school. They weren't guaranteed things. But I wasn't complaining...because whatever time I did have...when it came to sex it was always more than enough for me to get off...more than enough for me to sink into and enjoy Ed as many times as I wanted. Definitely more than enough to taste the almond and salt of Ed's skin as much as I wanted. And absolutely more than enough to enjoy the younger boys moans and screams.
Maybe this was a better dream than I had thought it would be. I mean…this Edward was a satisfying Edward. No surprise there…..Eventually most things ended up my way...cuz I was Envy. Mmkay, losers?
(X)(x)(X)
Morning started off well enough. It was quiet and one of those rare-yet nice- days when the sun wasn't too high in the sky but it isn't exactly cloudy. Just blank white sky. Nothing to kill brain or skin cells, thank the powers of fuck.
I snuggled further into the cool comforter and smirked while going over my dream. Dreams like that always had me feeling surprisingly good come morning….even if this one wasn't exactly one of the norms. It was almost as if the real Edward had walked in on me and dream Edward having sex…….though even dream Edward wasn't even acting like himself. Now that I thought of him, the real Edward hadn't been to classic either. True to character were the few episodes lately in which he'd submitted to my demands and so forth…but he'd been gutsier lately. Not so much the type of gutsy that would lead him to rebel, but the type that made arguments more inevitable. Ed was becoming a schizophrenic sort of blonde-or since that seems like way too much credit to just hand over to someone like Ed we'd say he was a confused blonde. One moment he was passive and the next he was ready to raise hell in piercing parlors and waste my time to make points.
Though I could see this might partially be due to Russell. Even if they didn't talk, it seemed Ed was at least insightful enough to see a link between us. He asked questions now and I could feel him watching me during the rare occasions I was among the masses of high school. Russell only made the inquiries more insistent since he wouldn't just butt out the group's business. Stupid, dramatic, whore that he was. Ever since freshman year….. But Ed was the kind that liked answers. A scientist by nature I'd guess. The further away his answers got, the more threatening he became.
"Nyeh….but who the hell cares anyway…?" I yawn and stretch, tossing the thought over my shoulder for the moment. Comfort lay in the fact that I was more violent than the shorty was curious. Whatever loser said the pen is mightier than the sword must've not taken reality into account. Both could be used to stab someone I guess, but my bet is on the sword any day. Ed writing down my name and formulating all sorts of plans couldn't work out unless I magically became a saint and went along with them.
But those were problems for later. Right now this bed was making love to me. I swear it.
It's not like I get many mornings like these (lounging among comforters) at 'home'… I'm either waking up extra early to avoid Greed or fleeing the house as soon I do wake my ass up…to avoid Greed. If it's not Greed then it's Wrath trying to make a tent with my sheets-while I'm in the bed. Or Wrath hiding from imaginary people, or just the knowledge that Wrath is even fucken living. Damned jerks they were: Greed and Wrath. So as any sane fuck tard could imagine, I was in no hurry to get up and go anywhere now that I did actually have the opportunity to lounge.
Besides…
Lust's place was pretty cozy and the first place I could think of to crash the minute I got out the gym. The bastards in black and blue weren't planning on letting any of us out anytime soon and I sure as hell wasn't about sit there and fight and inhale stink bombs until the wee hours of the morning. After stretching a bit more I realized my body wasn't as tired as I thought it should be and that was another bonus for the day. I had gotten into a fight (though, not to brag, a pretty effortless one) and I'd been pushing and battling my way through the gym half the night. For all of that I'd say I was doing pretty damn well. And now looking back …. I couldn't help but wonder how sore Bruno must be feeling right now. Good for that idiot bastard. I think I did a pretty nice number on the guys face-probably why that girl ran back into the gym, crazy a chicken with its head chopped off.
The night had been a strange one though…between the whole Bruno thing to the police locking us in the gym… Ed had passed out around the same time and if the powers that be favored him he wouldn't have been trampled. That's if the powers that be favored him. And since they favored anyone over me, obviously, I'd say Ed was probably ok. And that was good since I hoped to have some real fun with him next time we met up. But yea. Yesterday was strange and I woke up this morning feeling strangely good….but still strange.
Well I suppose it was time to try my strange luck out on the town.
"I really need to get going." I groaned tiredly to myself before sitting up and proceeding to throw myself together without waking up Lust. I wasn't ready to go home yet. And I knew that if Greed didn't send somebody by for me Lust would try to make me go back in order to avoid trouble, when in fact I'd be doing the exact opposite by returning to that damn place. It was better to go now anyways. Have some fun while I'm in a good mood so I won't be completely miserable when I go back and face Greed.
Once in the kitchen, I thought about leaving Lust a note and then laughed quietly to myself. Hell no. That wasn't even me. Even if I left one it wouldn't tell her where I was going, because I really didn't know yet. It'd only get her frustrated…..and that I noticed would add another bonus to my day.
Scribbling madly after grabbing an apple I left Lust a brief message and grinned wickedly down at the yellow stick note.
Kept moving. Don't bother tryna find me just yet lady. – Envy
After was a wicked little face I drew to further annoy her.
Yep. I was feeling pretty right with myself when I walked out the door. The morning was a good one. The sun wasn't too high in the sky. The birds weren't whistling and chirping about with their nonsense too loudly. Everyone was probably shacked in their houses, killing themselves over Thanksgiving dinner and preparing their various forms of cancer/ heart disease-whether it broiled, baked, or fried, possibly stewed and mashed. As for me, I was gonna take a stroll to some place un known. Find a creative way to make trouble of some sort. I wasn't even a musical person and I was already considering my own theme music. Maybe it'd go something like:
Good goodies beware. I like to pull on hair-
twiddle your thumbs and kiss my bum
because it's only fair
3 4 5
just try to stay alive
while i gut your aunt
and light up her bouffant
because she didn't pay her tithe!
"No…" I sighed "….. that's corny…and just what the hell is a bouffant again?" I muttered to myself just as I was shaken. The sky grew farther away and my ass hit something really hard.
"-the hell?" I blinked a lot-trying to figure out why the hell I'd fallen ass first in front of Lust's house. /Looking up might help. / The voice in my head supplied, in a helpful manner that wasn't really in its character. But we'd get to my bi polar mental voice later. It wasn't like it could go anywhere…
I looked up and was met with a satisfied smirk and steely blue-gray eyes.
"Can I help you?" I cocked my head to the side and grinned up at the guy...who was obviously much taller than me-and not cuz I was still sitting on the concrete. He put out a hand and helped me to my feet, dusting me off with his smirk still in place. I swatted his hands away.
"ACk- that's quite alright. No touching me please." Was my pointed 'suggestion'. I dusted myself off and took a step back from the man. By his side was a burly looking man with pale blonde hair and a very shiny bald head. He remained ever still by his partner, not even really studying me but instead just….well standing. The guy towered a good couple of feet above the other I would say.
"Well as a matter of fact you can help us." The shorter guy with the steely blue eyes said, the eerie smirk now getting on my nerves. He looked like he had an affinity for the same crimes of soliloquy Greed committed on a regular basis. I already decided I wasn't too fond of him. And not to mention he was dressed up in badge and blue along with his partner-cops hardly stepped in your face and knocked you down for anything good. Especially Baisley Cops…….and when we're talking about Baisley cops, we're mentioning a whole new breed of incompetence and stupidity to be observed and suffered…..one. gruesome. Moment. At. A. time.
Yes it would seem my morning was spiraling down the drain. God, what could I have done to receive such a bad omen as the one clad in blue with the booger up it's nose that stood right in front of me.
"I am Lieutenant Archer and it would please me greatly if…." He rummaged along the inside of his coat and I tried not to look interested in whatever he was looking for. Finally, he pulled out something very familiar and silver with an exaggerated 'click'. "…you put these on."
I stared at 'Lieutenant Archer' like he'd lost his mind.
"You're kidding, officer-man." This would be the special nickname he'd be known by from this point on. Whatever others I would think of would be added on randomly at my leisure. And trust me I could definitely think of a few others….
"I'm afraid not, Nat-"
"Envy." He smiles condescendingly at me as I cut him off. Of course he must be superior to me...I mean he's a 'Lieutenant Frank Archer' and I'm just a lowly 'Envy'. Please let us be blessed to cue the firework and confetti display with such a great presence before us!
I look back up at him and snort. Figures. I have his number already, the bastard.
The blonde guy next to him bristles like he's expecting me to pull a gun out of air space. I raise an eyebrow and scowl deeply at both just as Lust steps outside on her front step.
Archer dangles the handcuffs in front of me tauntingly.
"Just what is going on here?" Lust snaps, her face livid at the sight of police officers and I together. I raise my hands in defense and sigh.
"Lust I have not the slightest idea why these tight asses are here for. Haven't done anything. Cross my middle fingers and hope to fry." Lust pushes past me and sucks her teeth. "Yea as if you're word is reliable." She grumbles, shooting a glare back at me before turning her gaze to the police officer. She stands between me and Mr. Steel, looking mean and surly-Lord knows her alarm clock probably hadn't gone off yet. Archer smiles charmingly as if about to ask Lust on a date…and then it occurs to me that the bastard looks smug enough to do so.
'Miss after I finish arresting your young brother here would you like to accompany on my next mission and possibly a stroll after hours? Then maybe we can head back to my apartment and you can fondle my balls.'
Why are guys who are supposed to dealing with me always trying to work Lust into the deal? And their timing could never be more off…poor Lust. She's always attracting tight asses and losers. I snicker to myself and look on, waiting for whatever exchange will take place between Lust and Archer.
"You are…?" Lust asks pointedly after a minute.
"Lieutenant Frank Archer-and this here is my partner Officer Armstrong. We come upon your doorstep investigating serious matters." Lust 'hmpfs'.
"Just what 'serious matters' being 'investigated' would involve my brother, here?" Lust tightens her robe around her waist and puts a hand on her hip, her perfect eyebrows raising themselves, expecting an answer.
"Yea...really... I'd sure like to know." I chuckle only to have Lust step on my foot with her own slipper clad heel.
"Shut up, Envy." Lust snaps, without turning to look at me. I continue to stand behind her, weary, and cross my arms. These guys are ruining my day. If I had my way the whole world would be aware of it…cuz I really feel like torching something in hopes of saving this day….but it's too late for that...saving the day I mean, of course. I learned a long time ago that it's never too late to torch. By God, there is never a time when it's too late to torch…
Archer looks over Lust's shoulder at me and then at Lust.
"We have reason to believe Mr. Sin here, is responsible for the murder of Bruno St. Cabins." Lust in un fazed. I look at officer-man like he needs a new face. Damned if I knew Bruno even had a last name-and just why the hell would I murder him! For what! He has no money, his girlfriend's a nasty whore, and I'm not married to him and even if I was a hill bill red neck like him definitely wouldn't have insurance. So what purpose would I have to kill Bruno?
/Because he doesn't understand the word 'no'./
/Well yeah that, but still./
Besides even if I wanted to kill Bruno I didn't even have the time-
/Oh crap. The fight. My chain... SHIT./
"Well you're just questioning him, correct?"
"Yes. That would be absolutely correct." If possible, he's gotten even more pleased with himself than he was a minute ago.
"Then there is no need to handcuff him. I'm pretty sure if you just asked he'd come along quietly." Lust insist, sounding like she hasn't realized the airiness (as in up in the air/ up for debate) of this statement until its all out there. All eyes turn to me and I just shrug and smile 'politely'. What the hell else do they expect me to do? Dance for them? Froth at the mouth and scream 'I'm not guilty' before making a break for the barbed wire fence over yonder?
"That may be true." Archer begins in that conversational tone he seems to favor just for the sake of pissing people off. Who the hell wants to be conversational with an officer who's arresting their poor, horribly wronged, misunderstood brother? "But we're following the protocol according to what's in the best interest of our fellow officers and the community-including yourself, miss." He replies coolly and I can tell Lust is probably scowling-equipped with the eyebrow twitch and everything. The guy knows he's plucking nerves right now. And he loves it. Total Greed type.
"Well if he was a damned serial killer, terrorist, or psych patient I could see the 'logic' in your use of supposed 'protocol'." Sarcasm. "But he's a 16 year old who you suspect for a crime he probably didn't even commit." Lust hisses before adding "And I can protect myself very well thank you." She looks him up and down in a loathsome manner and Archer frowns, making a small sighing sound as he rubs the crease on his forehead.
"Probably would be the keyword now wouldn't it? The evidence pointing to, Mr. Sin, here is remarkably strong. If I had it my way he'd probably be behind bars already." Archer remarks with a confidence and disrespect that only a fool would take to Lust's face. Just as Lust opens her mouth to give the guy a right thrashing, a series of police cars pull up and neighbors begin poking their nosy little heads outside.
"What the hell is this?" Lust bites out, her gaze on Archer becoming even more fiery than before. Archer raises his hand and makes a gesture with his fingers towards the house and suddenly cops are stomping past Lust and pouring into her home. I whistle lowly while watching all the commotion.
"Looks like you're gonna have some serious interior designing done, Lust." I can't help but snipe, flinching for effect at the distinct sound of her silverware draw crashing to the floor. Lust doesn't even look at me…or the house as a matter of fact. She shakes her head and laughs lightly to herself before running her hands through her hair and giving a cool reply.
"If that is the way you will have...Fine, then." Her eyes promise a later vengeance even as she stalks over to her car in her bathrobe. Most people in bathrobes aren't considered threatening...but Lust is a different story all together. I believe she could be threatening in a damned gold fish suit. Touché Lust. Touché.
"This is officially a murder investigation." The smirk on Archer's face disappears and his face becomes colder...there is still a disturbing sort of passion for punishment present in the guys tone and stance. He hands the handcuffs to Armstrong and makes another one of those fluid orchestra-type gestures with his fingers-this time at me.
Armstrong looks at me expectantly. I sigh and put my wrists out, noting with amusement that you can barely see the guy's mouth when he talks. He has one of those big, life like General Custard/ 'The Colonel' type mustaches.
I snicker. "Go ahead, officer-man." He doesn't say anything, just snaps them on. They're cold, I say so. Handcuffs or not, I'm inclined to say whatever the hell I feel like saying.
"Tighten them a bit Armstrong." Archer request and suddenly the steel is biting into my wrists and they don't seem so cold. Just irritating. I tug at them and grimace.
"Gee thanks." I mutter sarcastically before Armstrong begins to guide me towards the car.
"Something tells me this is more your way of things than the department's way of things." Lust says in a strained tone-across between pointed and aggravated. Archer, I imagine, probably stays true to form and only smirks before responding:
"You're welcome to come along for the ride." Cool. Challenging. It was meant to come out in a way that sparks fight in someone. Piss someone off. Not the same way I'd piss someone off though. That's how you can tell a guy is a serious punk. When he strings all these polite SAT words together and tries to make them threatening. If I really wanted to piss someone off I'd just hit them if I really felt like it. Other days I might be more creative...but this guy didn't look too creative. So I'd expect him to be doing some hitting. And if he wasn't hitting then he had no business going about sparking someone's temper any other way. 'Tis the way it should be.
But tactics like those don't really work on Lust anyway. She's too cool headed to go scratching someone's eyes out because she thinks they tried to threaten her.
"Is that a threat?" Last replies calmly, an eyebrow slowly rising as if amused at the idea of being threatened. Taking a field trip to the slammers might not be so bad so why fight about it? Life's a party. Huzzah! (laughs dryly) God I wish I could believe that shit. I mean sure life is a party, but Archer's talking about questioning and all this other crap that doesn't sound to good for my health.
"No, of course not. Merely an invitation, miss." He returns smiling a bit at Lust who smiles back at him. An unspoken message-which I'm positive isn't a friendly one-passes between the two. It's Lust who breaks eye contact first, opting to narrow her eyes at her watch. Archer tips his hat lightly and spins on heel. Within seconds he's in the driver's seat just as Armstrong pushes me in the back seat.
"You know I didn't-"
"It would be in your best interest, Mr. Sin, if you just sat back and stayed quiet for the remainder of the ride. It won't be long. You'll have plenty to say later I'm sure." Archer cuts me off serenely, making an 'aaaah' sound as he starts up the ignition successfully. The sound you'd make if you just to a 'refreshing gulp of sprite'.
"Whatever." I shoot back, leaning my head against the window and cursing Bruno. Stupid bastard……couldn't he go and die and make it look like I did it some other time? I'm not even gonna think about if I killed him by mistake because I know I didn't. Me knocking Bruno's face into a sink wouldn't have killed the guy…he's way too annoying to just die off like that. You know...like fleas or cockroaches. So naturally I'm wondering…if Bruno died at the game last night and I know I didn't kill him…who did?
I mean...that is the obvious question to ask, right?
/Or maybe I should already know. /
(X)(x)(X)
I haven't seen her in so long. Her eyes are still a bright turquoise, but I know that's not right, because…
"Edward, I waited for you." She looks at me and smiles softly. I wanna hug her, like I used to when we played. But I still know it's wrong.
"I came." I say, reaching out my hand despite what I really know.
That boy….with the void violet eyes….he appears behind her and smirks.
"Ya ever think about us, Ed?" He asks, putting his hands on Nina's shoulder and smirking at me, knowing I can't really give an answer. He knows I don't understand or know…..
"Who are you?" I ask, wanting to be frustrated, but finding the atmosphere won't hold my feelings and therefore makes me almost close to numb. Nina cocks her head to the side innocently and the boy, wild hair and all, shakes his head and looks to be whispering something in Nina's ear. She frowns and begins to say something, but leaves instead….leaving nothing but a red smear in her place.
"No……." I mean to shake and quiver, but instead remain still focused on where Nina once was.
"She can't be your friend Ed….because you don't know……." The boys says, almost disappearing into the darkness behind him.
"Don't know what?"
"I did say our paths were the same…..I meant it……."
And then I'm alone. The boys is gone. And then as usual there's nothing. Not darkness. Not light. Not sound or feeling. No boy…..and no Nina…..
I stand there and can't help but wonder….Nina is gone….but why can't I grieve?
(X)(x)(X)
Thanksgiving becomes one big, irritating blur. I want it to be over. I want everyone to stop looking at me like I'm a patient and walking on glass around me like I might snap…like I'm some patient. It's so stupid. So what if I passed out at that stupid game and had a mild seizure? It was way too stuffy in their anyway-I just needed some air or something.
My mom sensed how un nerved I was and brought me into the kitchen, away from everyone to 'help' her. Chances were that if that didn't work, they'd make me cool off and take a ride with dad. Truth was that I liked plan 2 a lot better. It entailed actually leaving the house...which looked pretty sweet right about now. Or as a matter of fact…I wish Jake would hurry up and get here. He could lighten the mood without really trying, just by being an idiot. And it's great to have friends who act like idiots because then who can be an idiot with them too and just forget. That's why I wish Jake would get here…
But anyways, Alphonse is here in the kitchen too…truthfully, I wouldn't expect him to be anywhere else. Al can always be found by mom's side. Always. I can't hate though…because he's actually helping. I was doing more staring and blinking than anything…..the kitchen wasn't a place of expertise for me. Someone might as well have chucked me in the middle of a strange Italian opera of sorts because I felt that out of place. The only time I came in the kitchen was to get food. That took 5 seconds tops, so you cold only imagine how I felt being stuck in the place for the last 30 minutes. Damn, I've never wanted out so badly.
"It's nice to have momma's two boys in the kitchen helping her, isn't it Edward?" Mom asks loudly as she fishes the lasagna out the oven. She gives me a pointed look and again she's sensed my mind wandering and notes my uselessness. I humor her with a 'look' and grab a rag. There has to be something I'm good at in this place….
"Of course. I'm a natural. It's no wonder mom'd miss me in the kitchen..." I drawl, twirling the rag around in the air and smirking. Mom sighs and Al, who's alternating between basting-checking the bird and putting away everything we're done with shoots a glance at me.
"Yea….a real natural at doing nothing and probably breaking stuff, brother." He mutters as I accidentally knock a salad bowl to the floor in my swinging. I jump away from it and scowl when I do notice it's just a salad bowl…an empty one thank God. My mom walks over and picks it up. She wipes her hands on a rag.
"Ed, I'm leaving the kitchen for a moment, just try not to knock over any of the casseroles okay? They took a while to make..." She trails off thoughtfully before perking right back up again. "Al, get the macaroni out the fridge and get it ready for the over the minute the bird's done. I have to pick up Shianne from the bus station." Al takes this in automatically, use to mom's rapid fire directions since he's spent at least 45 of his life in this kitchen with her.
Mom finally turns to me, obviously trying to evaluate my skill, just as I pick up a wet, dirty looking something to throw in the garbage. This has gotta be the 3rd nastiest thing I've seen in my lifetime…just what is it……? And why the hell is it in our sink? Around thanksgiving of all times?
"Ed I see you've discovered the dish rag….." Dishrag? This doesn't look like I believe a dishrag should… "I'm sure you can get that right hon. Have fun." And with that, mom's left the kitchen, giving me no time to respond and leaving me alone with Alphonse.
Deep down I dread being alone with Al right now. It's bad enough everyone in the house is looking at me like I'm a freak for passing out, but knowing that mom, dad, and all have to deal with what only they know, makes me nervous around them. Have they talked about me yet? How much do they know about what actually happened besides me just passing out and having a seizure. Let's face it…….seizures aren't exactly normal but still…….
I know Al is naturally worried and will use this opportunity to ask about what happened last night. These days questions suck to answer…because now I either have to lie or don't know the answer myself.
"Ed, you should've won the game last night." Al says over his shoulder as a matter of fact. Yah. We should have. Who the hell knows why we didn't. Postpone my ass...it wasn't like the other team was gonna catch up with us to actually win, so why postpone the game like the outcome was so unsure?
"Yea. I know. The higher ups can be such kill-joys." I comment, picking up the cheese grater boredly and scratching at the piece of cheese that just won't come off.
"Why'd they postpone it?" I ask casually, knowing he's leading up to happy hour. Might as well just rush it there instead of waiting and letting him draw it out.
"You'd know if you hadn't passed out, wouldn't you brother?" Al says teasingly, but I know it wasn't meant to be a joke. Ouch, that was kinda cold for Al but I've been sensing something…different from him lately. I sigh. Everyone wants to know why when things like these happen. I want to know why too. But I can't focus on finding the answer if I have to stop to think up all the fake answers to give everyone else who wants to know. Everyone like Alphonse.
"That's real great, Al…."I mutter, looking down at the floor.
"Winry says you passed out and had a seizure. You say you just passed out and try to make that fly with mom and dad….why won't you just let them take you to a doctor and see what's wrong with you?" Al really doesn't understand…and I don't either. I just know that the doctor is the last place I wanna go. The last thing I need is some guy poking at me and asking me even more questions. I look up at Al, ready to throw the nearest wooden spoon at him if need be.
"How about we ask what's wrong with you, Al? Just what the hell is your problem that you won't get off my case?" I hiss. Al narrows his eyes at me.
"Your problems end up being my problems, brother." He says, as if that alone should be enough to appease me. That's exactly what I didn't want to hear. I tell him so.
"Brother…" He sighs as if I'm a lost cause.
"Damnit, Al! I don't want to, okay? There's nothing wrong with me!" Al looks shocked for a moment and then stands back and looks down at the casserole he's holding. I whip back around to scrub at a dish, not missing Al's next words.
"I notice a lot more than you think I do, brother…" My breath catches for a minute but I force myself to keep scrubbing as if I'm not listening. I've found one use in the kitchen and damned if I don't use it to my advantage somehow. But as usual my mouth gets the best of me.
"Yea, I'll bet." mumble, knowing Al will probably hear me anyway. Not that I don't know Al is observant, damned if he isn't. Just why the hell would I stress myself out the way I do keeping certain things from him if he wasn't. But, NO. Not only is he observant, but he's also emphatic as well. Damnit.
"I even notice those earrings you've been trying to hide." Al's voice comes out barely a whisper-not threatening in the least-but I've still had enough. I glare Al right dead in the eye when I turn around but he isn't bothered. He just stares back at me, with an expression I can't decipher. Begging him not to tell isn't even needed. I know he won't and so with one final glare I've decided to eave the kitchen.
The dishes are forgotten as I storm out the kitchen. Everyone in my house only glances at me as I walk up the stairs and plop down at the very top. Here they can't see me, but I can still see what's going on in the house and be left alone. My room wouldn't be the right place just yet. Isolating myself completely would only make them worry more.
/"I never noticed…your eyes…they're almost violet, like…" /
"They're always violet…" I muttered to myself, bringing the heel of my hand roughly against my forehead. My headaches were never the types of things that just came and went. They lingered for days on end and made me see things and hear things I swear I knew nothing about. Like violet eyes…..
/Keep dreamin' those dreams, kid, and before you know it, we'll fumbling towards ecstasy. I promise. /
I didn't want Al to notice my earrings. I mean, damn, I knew he'd notice eventually but I guess when a guy is knocked out he can't exactly conceal as many secrets as he could while awake and aware. He won't tell mom and dad, but….
"He's pissed with me." And he has the right to be. I'm such a fucking jerk these days.
I lean my head against the wall and watch the T.V. I think one of my aunts has the news on. It is the news. Nothing else could be so…….uniformed looking. Except for maybe the 'wanted' posts on channel 55. Grand larceny, arson, and murder don't exactly get to be too unique when scrutinized by the law and public alike. Channel 5, as I've said, was a testament to that.
/"A game at S.A. high school was called off about midway through the second quarter yesterday…."/
I wouldn't be surprised if the Lord just threw my name on the news to further my embarrassment. Further my punishment.
/…police are currently investigating the murder of Junior attending the high school…."/
What the…..?
"….name has chosen not to be disclosed as of yet by family….."
Somehow everyone in this damned house finds time to stare at and pussy foot around me, but not the time to tell me someone was fucking killed at a game I was playing in last night.
"Goddamnit." I swear, knowing I'm not supposed to take the Lord's name in vain, but unable to help it.
/"…more information to come….school board and faculty are horrified…."/
" AL!"
(X)(x)(X)
I haven't been in a police station in years. And even when I last came here it was just to get shuffled around to someone said 'By George I think I've got it! To Juvenille Hall with the lad!' For the most part police stations aren't really anything beyond what they appear to be on T.V. Busy badges and blues striding about all over the damn place. Handcuffed miscreants sitting in chairs, looking bored as they await the usual consequences (they've been here a few times). Then there's the psychos like me who are anxious to see how much fun they can have with a cop while their forced to wait about the place. Yup. Just your run of the mill Baisley Police Department.
Archer walks besides me on my right steadfastly, looking satisfied and purposeful as always while Armstrong walks along silent and weirdly stone like as ever. Lust can be heard talking urgently into her cell behind us, but between the two cops I can't help but laugh. I do manage to choke back the laughter somewhat though.
"Would you like to share what is so funny, Envy?" Archer inquires in a calm, confident manner, not looking at me but keeping his eyes ahead of us, glued to the indiscriminate blank walls of the department hallway. Who does this bastard think he is? Scrutinizing my actions and what not. I grin to myself and rub my sore wrist against my back. I got something for his ass…
"I was just wondering...when you guys become official badge and blue big wigs do they have a special ceremony in which they publicly insert that stick up your ass or does it just wedge itself up there over time?" I eye the man out the corner of my eye and smile sweetly trying to look as curious as can be.
Armstrong's mustache twitches a bit with a cough. Archer's smirk stretches into a tight smile. "No. It is actually worked up there over time by charming individuals such as your self, Mr. Sin." I pull forward a bit from Armstrong to try and look Archer in the face, laughter already pouring out of me.
"Seriously? And here I was thinking it was some sort of natural phenomenon. Ya know, like weathering...Amazing."
"Quite." Curt, short…pissed.
"So you seem like you've been here a while...met a couple of guys like me-although it's obvious I'm pretty special to you- but tell me...just how many of those are shoved-"
"This, Envy is our stop." Archer interrupts, giving me a courteous close mouthed smile. The kind that those bulky guards imprison movies give prisoners before taking their night stick and beating the living shit out of them for talking back. But Archer has no night stick so I'm wondering what the smile is for. "From this point on, your sister shall not accompany you and you will be left within my charge to answer any and all questions I ask. Is that understood?" He says sternly, speaking to me like I'm one of his recruits.
"Righteo, Officer-man." I drawl.
"No. I'd actually like-" Lust begins to protest when she is suddenly cut off by a loud, booming voice.
"Miss, I'm afraid you are not allowed to pass beyond this point with your dear brother. It would be unacceptable for a lady such as yourself to do so, seeing as how criminals seldom comport themselves in a decent manner. Please! Allow me to take you for a cup of coffee and I promise your brother will be fine!" The loud, righteous voice bursts forth from 'The Mustache' and Lust pales. Although I'm trying to decide if its because she's not able to pass 'GO' and collect 200 dollars with me or because of Armstrong's massive...whateverness...
Looking at them about the rip through his shirt, gives me the impression that his muscles are nasty….large and nasty.
"But-"
"Miss, Please! This way!" Armstrong cuts in, his voice proclaiming all the justice and right of the world as he drags a confused and disturbed Lust back down the hallway for their coffee time. I look after them boredly, yet somewhat sympathetic for Lust's sake.
"My partner is quite passionate about what's right as you can see... So am I." Archer speaks after a moment.
"Oh yeah. I can definitely tell. I bet you guys get the appropriate bad guys all the time." I snort. Archer shrugs in his 'I'm so macho and corporate' manner before opening the door we've stopped at. Those same blue eyes I've become familiar with over the last hour stare at me expectantly, offset by Archer's usual smirk.
"After you." I walk inside the room and realize this is indeed where I will be questioned. I rub at my wrist again.
"Can you take these damn things off?" I snap after a moment. Archer walks in behind me.
"After you've sat down, please." I plop down in the chair and raise my hands as if to say 'happy?'. Archer ignores me and sits down in front of me at the small white table with the metal bars as its legs. He sits down with a clipboard and a folder, shifting through the papers in front of him and making that fuck awful 'aah' sound I've hated since the first time I've heard it. The silence chews at my nerves and I'm tempted to get up and chuck the chair at the guy since he refuses to remove my handcuffs and get about whatever business we're here on. I'm not really for Thanksgiving, but I definitely don't wanna spend the day staring at a 'Lieutenant' with a whole stack of firewood shoved up his ass.
After a few moments, Archer puts everything back in order and sets it neatly to the side. With that taken care of his focuses his attention on me, the eerie closed mouth smile coming to his face again. I smile back with a nice set of teeth.
"So, Mr. Sin, since I'd like to keep this strictly professional for the sake of preserving time, I'm going to ask that you restrain whatever impulse you have to ask un necessary questions and perform random shenanigans-use self control. Is that ok with you?" I hold up my wrist and make a 'nice nice' face at him.
"Well I don't exactly have a choice here now do I, Officer man?" I reply with a false sweetness. "I only ask that you follow your own advice, and preserve some time by cutting the formalities and getting to the basics. And before you do that I'm only gonna ask one more time for these damned manacles to be removed." My voice worked its way down to a growl and Archer simply nodded before pulling my wrist forward and removing the handcuffs.
"Thanks officer man." I spit, rubbing at my aggravated wrist. I bet they never even sterilize those damned things...wouldn't be surprised if I've now contracted some flesh eating bacterial disease...Archer doesn't bother with I'm welcome. We're officially in the interrogation zone now.
"You attended yesterday's game at S.A. High School. Tell me how you got there and at what time exactly." I raise an eyebrow at him as if to say 'What the fuck?' and shake my head.
"Couldn't tell you what time it was-that's asking a bit much-but I can tell you I got to the place by way of Bruno." Archer folds his hands in front of him and raises an eyebrow himself.
"Really? Mr. St. Cabins was your means of transportation?"
"'Tis what I said officer man." I sneer.
"So what exactly were you doing up until the game? Your guardian, Vincent Greed Sin, made a call yesterday around 10:00 am saying you'd run off and he had no word from you or any possible way to contact you." Oh damn it all. These guys couldn't be serious. What the hell was all this random CIA shit? If they knew that much then I guess they could tell me where I was up until the game and what I'd been doing, with whom, and when. Fuck, might as well tell me all the select times I took my ass to the bathroom too! Anything as long as it helped their precious little 'investigation' right? I tell Archer so and he chuckles, giving me that same condescending look.
"Just answer the question." I look at Archer and mock his last words in a sing songy tone, relishing in the way he glowers at me. He has that weary, 'loss of patience' look again.
"Alright, alright...I stopped by my friend Martel's and then we hooked up and decided to gallivant about. Then around the same time the game began we started heading towards Bruno. His girl answers the door and says the guy was throwing one of his house tumblers and so I'd say it took a bit to find him. We find him. He says 'hey let's go to the game!'. We go to the game. End." Archer clasp his hands together and props his head up in a thoughtful manner.
"Tell me what happened when you arrived at S.A. High School." I sigh and rub my face in my hands, groaning.
"Awwwww- what the hell do you think we did? Streak up and down across the bleachers and play freeze tag?" I laugh, clapping my palm against my forehead and shaking my head. "Are all cops this dense?" Archer gave me another one of those looks and it's silent for a moment.
"Bruno and I didn't come alone. We came with a few of our friends...Ren and some of the guys. We got our spot at the corner of the bleachers. We watched the game, socialized and all that goodness." Archer still stared at me, a smirk slipping back onto his stupid smug face.
"You seem to be a bit closed with your story, Envy. Don't be afraid to go into detail and embellish a bit. You've made it clear you're not the type to hold back at the mouth, so please tell your story the way you would if this wasn't a police investigation. I am, after all, here to provide us all the time in the world." He smiles at me in that same tight, smarmy manner and I make a face at him.
"First off: this is an investigation. Second: I don't feel like embellishing, fuck you very much. You ask me a question. I answer it. There." I 'mhpf' for emphasis before crossing my arms, turning my chair, and stretching out enough to lean back. Archer gives me that same, pleased look before clicking open a pen with that thrice damned 'aah' sound and writing.
"Envy, I don't think you understand the severity of this situation. If you insist on being difficult, I can simply fill in your story with my own details and have you convicted faster than your aunt can get your uncle there on speed dial. You may not have many choices here, but you do have some. I suggest utilizing them wisely because with all do respect..." Archer's eyes glint at me in a perversely smug manner. "...I wouldn't be too sad to see someone such as yourself behind bars." I stare at him nice and hard. Well then. With the discriminate look he's giving me, he might as well have said 'I'd more than love to see an arrogant little fairy like you in jail.' Duchies.
Well at least now I know what kind of monster I'm up against. And at least I now know that the less than impressed feelings are mutual between us.
I roll my eyes and try to hide the fact that I'm getting that uncomfortable, sinking feeling in my stomach again. The one I got before I figured out I was HIV positive. Yea, life is shitty as ever, but the last thing I want to do is go to jail for supposedly knocking off that bastard Bruno. Juvie sure as hell wasn't fun. And I doubt the jail officer man is speaking of- the one with the barred windows and obscenely horny dudes-is any better. Let's be serious. No one has to actually go to jail to know it's gonna suck. And when someone comes back and tells one of those 'woe is me who has been butt raped in jail' stories, you knows it's not an exaggeration. Jail would suck. With Greed already on my ass, the last thing I want is a whole jail full of guys on my ass. I'd kill myself before I let that happen.
I make a low growling noise in my throat before conceding with Mr. Officer-man Archer. I sit up and sigh.
"One strike has been counted against you. Now answer my questions." Strike? What the hell do these strikes mean to me?
"Whatever. Ask whatever the hell you're going to ask before the smart ass in me makes a comeback and I choose jail for 200-please."
"Indeed. Now tell me about Mr. St. Cabins and yourself. Tell me what would lead you to gut him in a school hallway...and if you supposedly didn't, then tell me why so much of you're presence was evident at the crime scene."
/Gut.../
If possible those steely blue eyes grow more intense and I can see a very familiar madness stirring within them.
"Tell me."
Personally I think he lives for this...
(X)(x)(X)
Something moves against my leg and wakes me up. I look down to see our cat, Mimi, slithering up the stairs, rubbing my leg as if to say 'I'm passing through. Acknowledge me now lowly human.' I give the tabby a hostile look before shoving her away with me knee.
"Get away from me, stupid cat." A baleful look is cast my way before she continues her way up the steps, flicking her tail at me dispassionately.
"Don't know why mom and Alphonse would want something as stupid as a damned cat anyway..." I mumble to my self, a bit cranky. I rub at my eyes and wonder how long I've been asleep and where everyone is. I hadn't planned on passing out on the steps like that...now everyone probably thinks I have some sort of anemic disorder and epilepsy. Great.
I had yelled for Al because something as serious as a murder in our school should've been relayed to me the minute I woke up. Wouldn't ya think? When I had thought he was ignoring me I went downstairs to the kitchen only to find Al gone and for just a moment I contemplated dragging him out of whatever deep dark hole he'd hid himself in. Al didn't care for conflict so I guess he figured that if I was putting myself out the way he'd put himself out the way too-especially since that out of the two of us, I'm more likely to stir up past arguments and irritate old wounds. I don't know where I got it from. Cause mom and Al are both fiery in a way, but not to the point that they're conflict seeking and Dad seems as mellow and logical as can be. But moving aside from my family's general attitudes, I had come back up on the steps and then obviously fallen asleep.
/Only to be waken up by that god forsaken Mimi, damn her. /
I got up to wander down stairs, avoiding the living room, not really caring for the news. I now found my dad in the kitchen, setting up his fried turkey out the way now that it was done. He was very particular about where it was stored, because he wanted not a single thing different about it than when it originally finished cooking when the time came to eat it. Dad's fried turkeys were products of science rather than master pieces formed from the art of cooking. He cooked them to perfection and this is what made them legends in our household. My mind turned over the possibilities of snagging a piece without him noticing.
"Why hello, Edward. How long did you plan to stand there with your mouth watering like that?" My dad turns around, eyeing me over his glasses with a weird yet amused look. I shake my head and run my hands through my hair while I think of an excuse.
"Old man, nobody was thinking about your fried turkey, was just wondering what you were doing is all." I throw this out off handedly, trying to avoid looking at the knowing look I know my father is giving me.
"Do you know how hard your mom and brother work on keeping this kitchen clean? I don't think they'd be too pleased to hear you've been drooling on their floor, Ed." He gives me another one of those looks over the top of his glasses.
"Dad, please." I yawn, leaning against the nearest counter.
"Well I'm glad you're so interested in my activities. I need a candidate to run with me to the grocery store to get some plastic cups and such for your younger cousins. Let's go." He says, going to the back door (which is adjacent to the kitchen) and taking his coat off the knob. I sigh and follow along. It's not like I had anything else to do anyways.
My father takes driving the suburban very seriously. We can't drive too fast, but we can't go too slow. You'd think that the owner of an SUV (the ultimate power vehicle that's actually allowed on the road) would be more than happy to out do the rest of the put-putters on the road. But nope. Not dad. He carries himself in this damned Suburban the same way he'd carry himself in a Volvo or tin can… You have to understand…. short…people like me take power very seriously. You can bet that when the time comes for me to get my own car, it will be a truck of some sort. If I can't be big on my own, I'll sure as hell be big on the road. Oh yeahz...
By the way, this is the moment where I point out that it's just me and my father riding along on this blessed Thanksgiving. This is not a coincidence and I know within moments my father will start in on me too-but take logic to his side and force me to find him fair and reasonable, damn him. My father's reasoning has always been pretty sound. So when Al and I were kids we didn't get beatings for things we didn't do (or things no one could prove we did) and we weren't exactly let off the hook for our crimes either. Dad made sure mom never did that-and while mom was stubborn she's always had a big heart. Yeah I know corny...but true none the less.
"You got a postcard yesterday, Edward." My father informs me. A postcard?
"Really? From who?" I ask, hoping this isn't one of Envy's 'practical jokes' or something else equally disturbing. Since my father is hard to read I'm not sure what the deal is with this postcard and I won't know what the deal is until he opens his mouth and tells me about the blasted postcard.
After a painfully thoughtful moment he simple says: "A Miss Izumi Curtis?"
I let out a breath of air and laugh to myself.
"Ohh. Right, Izumi." I sigh. "Do you have it with you?" I ask, wanting to know how Izumi is doing and eager to respond to whatever two little lines she wrote me.
"No, but who is Izumi Curtis?" Oh damn. I can't very well tell my dad I met her while running to some place I shouldn't have ever run to because I'd been some place the night before I should have never been and taken some stuff I should've never taken and so forth….
"A friend of the guidance counselor at school. Said she found me interesting and promised she'd drop a note by sometimes." I said offhandedly…as if I associated with friends of the staff and the staff themselves all the time.
"Ok."
A moment later, dad cut to the chase.
"Edward I want you to understand something." My father starts, keeping his grip on the wheel as steady as his gaze on the road. I cross my arms and sit back in my seat, getting ready for another one of these talks about last night that I dread.
"Edward..."He chuckles to himself for a moment, his deep honey colored eyes can be seen dancing with a sort of mirth.
"...before we even get to the events of last night's game at your high school, I'd like to point out your earrings." Dad officially has my attention. It's not like I had expected that they would go unnoticed, but I just really hadn't thought about what would happen when they were noticed. At first, I'd thought we'd just skip past go and straight to the hell and damnation and 'roasting upon the holy grail' part. But now Dad is being his usually clam and reasonable self and I'm suspicious of what he has to tell me. What he's gonna say about my earrings and what will be the consequences?
"You are reaching an interesting age, Edward Elric. Your mother and I said 'tradition be damned' and followed or modernized instincts in terms of your schooling. We believed the world wasn't too much for you or Alphonse and felt your rightful place and the best place to develop would be in public school. Does this seem right?" He ask, looking over at me with a thoughtful look, his eyebrow rising imploringly. I nod my head.
"Yes." I mutter. Dad nods.
"Is there a chance we made a mistake in allowing you this freedom?"
"No, dad."
"I am not the most religious of men but I do believe the church and its doctrines should be respected by one who is willing to dock in the church's door." Dad looks at me askance. Yes, at least he respects the church- because of mom. I'm starting to feel guilty, because I know that my ears won't go unnoticed by those in the church. It's bad enough my mother and father are among the small number of young couples, but I know the elders of the church won't hesitate to comment. They'll try to say mom and dad haven't done their job. And even though mom and dad don't care about that type of stuff-church politics in all its hypocritical glory-it will still bother me knowing that's how people will approach my parents.
"Dad, I'm-" My dad gives me one of his positive, 'can't you see the sun just over the horizon?' looks.
"Just listen, Edward. I'm not going to condemn you." He states, his eyes still remaining upon the road. I watch him as he begins to speak again.
"Your age is one in which your mother and I must now realize that your and Alphonse's religious growth is no longer in our hands. You'll have to make your own decisions about what you believe, Edward." My father's tone is close to grave, though his words are thought out well and have no affect on the concentration he uses while driving. The Suburban is still kept level in relation to the rest of the cars. Go dad.
My dad never condemns. He simply states what he sees and leaves a person to his or her own thoughts. H feels he has no place in the minds of others. His family's thoughts are the only ones that really matter to him, and even those are held in high enough esteem that he won't wrench them from any of us un willingly.
"With that said, it is obvious that you are growing. So with respect to last night's episode, Edward...your mother, brother and I worry about you. But I myself have given it private thought and while I will not force you to let us take you to a doctor..." My eye winces as I wait for the blow.
"...I would like you to seek your own answers. I'd appreciate it if you went to a clinic, by yourself and had them take a look at you. But you must promise to tell us if it's anything serious, Edward." He looks at me, his face calm, still, and somewhat searching as he squints a bit over his glasses at me.
"Thank you." I mutter "I'll do that...but what if it's something I don't know if I can tell you? What if I have an idea of what may be wrong and it's not really a medical issue?" My dad gives a half smile, before angling his arms as he moves his hands about on the steering wheel, making a turn.
"You can always tell us, Edward, even if you may not want to. It's a clichéd type of phrase, but most clichés are accepted as law which is why they are repeated as often as they are. That's what makes them clichéd." I roll my eyes and groan as Dad continues rambling on about his scientific theory concerning clichés. Lord have mercy on my father's poor, scientific soul.
"-so you'd see-"
"Dad. I get the concept. Really. Just...please." I beg, touching his shoulder and giving him a pained look. He looks surprised that he couldn't catch himself in the middle of his lecture and then gives that half smile again. We enjoy the silence for a moment as we continue our car ride, which should've been done quite a while ago if it wasn't for the fact that Dad stopped on the side of the road to give further passion to his seminar on clichés and all things ancient and related. The cars make 'zoom' noises as they pass by one after the other.
"Ed, all I can tell you is to find your own answers. You inherit pretty sound judgment from me, so I do trust you will do the right thing in terms of your well being. You won't get it right all the time, but that's not what life or science is about." I nod again, feeling a bit sick to my stomach with the whole 'dad trusting in me thing'. If only he knew...
It's silent again for a moment before Dad gets around to pulling out again.
"By the way, Edward?"
"Yes, Heims?"
"Just what do you plan to say to your mother about those bands in your ear?" The sick feeling leaks into my face.
Just like with most things these days, I have no fucking clue.
(X)(x)(X)
Initially Lust was supposed to have been questioned by this time already. But she would not agree to a thing unless she was comfortable and well placated. Yes, Lust was stubborn...and since one could just see the police department sitting beneath her up turned nose, one could be lead to the conclusion that she did not care for the Police. Not at all.
Lust looked at the massively just man sitting beside her, trying to mask the suspicious gazes she knew she was focusing on him behind her coffee jug. She really wanted to be able to despise this blonde one just as much as she now loathed his steely eyed, cad of a partner... but when a man retrieved coffee as good as the mug full she cupped between her hands, it was quite hard to even dislike him, much less despise him.
/Yes/ She thought. Armstrong wasn't too bad at all. /Not at all./
She still couldn't say she thought much of the organization he represented though. The Baisley Police Department and The school board weighed equally on the scales of incompetence...although one did take the initiative to 'out stupid' the other now and then. Both seemed to be competing for the title this season...and as far as Lust was concerned it was becoming a very, very close call. Baisley did indeed have a mixed up bunch of leaders...from the blow fish responsible for the town's safety to the fools that headed the children's educational development, Baisley didn't seem to have too much going on for it's future. They'd either be over run by a new breed of criminals, products of a botched school system, or murdered off one at a time by the actual criminals Baisley Police Department failed to catch time and time again. /How Sad a situation it was./ Lust thought to herself darkly.
"So how long should this questioning take?" Lust asked, bored, as she took another sip of her coffee. Armstrong sat nearby, nursing his own mug, but in a more reserved and less cozy way than Lust did.
"If your brother answers all his questions without a fuss then no more than 30 minutes really, but...if Archer finds something wrong with his story that will add another 10 minutes for analytical conversation." Armstrong said, trying to be sympathetic to the dark haired woman that sat across from him. Lust sighed.
"Damn it." She hissed. "That boy couldn't bite back a smart remark if someone was holding a match to his hair." She crossed and un crossed her legs nervously before rolling her eyes and making an 'as well' gesture with her head.
"So be it. As long as the coffee remains this good I suppose I'll survive." Archer's clear blue eyes studied Lust for a moment, before a deep noise rustled from behind The Mustache. He chuckled, trying to compose himself to take another sip of coffee. Lust smirked over at the huge blonde man, only speaking when it was quiet again.
She had remained light hearted for a few moments, but now it was time to check back into reality, for Envy's sake. A young man that Lust had already fixed her mind to believe was affiliated with Envy somehow had been murdered. These cops thought Envy the murderer. The boy was murdered at a basketball game of all things...so with these crucial details she could only wonder about all the things in between.
"So tell me more about this basketball game. What do you guys believed happened? Why Envy?" Armstrong took on the serious look again, the difference between the casual look and this one being that his clear blue eyes darkened a bit and his mustache tightened it would seem, in a straight laced and upright manner. After all, one did have to go on mustache movements when one couldn't see a mouth-which made up at least 45 of an expression on the average human being, Lust reasoned. But she wouldn't hold this man's mustache against him...maybe if he succeeded in working her nerves within the next hour or so, but right now all she wanted was details.
"Bruno St. Cabins was found dead around 8: 40 pm. From there, we of course had to alert the Homicide detectives and figure out what to do with the youth inside the gym..." /Yes/ Lust thought /Sounds pretty close to Envy's sleep-mumblings if I'm predicting this correctly.../
"...so you see it was more of matter of do we-"
/Matters, matters, matters...fools have no business in matters of , crime, death, and punishment./
"May I cut you off for a small moment? Hm?" Lust interjected, looking demure.
"I'd like to point out that this is supposed to be a brief questioning period. A period in which it is I who questions you miss." Armstrong replied in a slightly pointed manner, though not unkindly. Lust face broke out into a smile that showed off her brilliant white teeth as she chuckled a bit to herself, leaned forward to prop her arms up in her lap and her head on her arms.
"Armstrong, I believe you pretty bright. We can both learn the things we want from each other...I'll be happy to participate in your little questioning period as long as you allow me know what I want to know." Lust rose slowly to her feet, approaching Armstrong before yanking him forward by his collar and giving a low growl.
"Would you be so kind?" Lust asked simply, her grip not weakening in the slightest as she continued to stare into Armstrong's face, her un usual fuchsia colored eyes a glow.
Intimidation wasn't really something those in the Sin family really had to try to do. All of them succeeded in striking some sort of fear into some sort of heart; whether it be the hearts of the elderly and challenged-Wrath's specialty-or the weak minded of all ages and sizes-Envy's usual prey...or Just any damn body that crossed their path-a group usually taken on by the eldest of the family: Lust, Greed, Envy...and Dante while she was known to be living.
At this moment Lust wasn't trying to intimidate Armstrong per say (because Armstrong was a pretty hefty guy and could probably take Lust and all her curvy softness and sit her in a corner somewhere). She just wanted to get the point across that she wouldn't be easily put down and could prove quite difficult when not pleased. Authority or no. It was bad enough her house was probably being ransacked at that very moment but to sit here with Envy being questioned just a few walls away, and not know why was just plain disrespectful to her intelligence. Really and truly it was.
A soft blush crept up Armstrong's neck and to his cheeks.
"Well I suppose we could work our knowledge into a conversation of sorts." Armstrong grumbled. Lust smiled brightly yet again.
"Yes, that is what I had in mind." She said flicking her hand away from Armstrong, sitting down, crossing her legs and giving a 'we done here?' look.
"As I was saying...you can spare all that fluff. You guys locked the students in the gym didn't you?" Armstrong's blush brightened considerably before working it's way down.
"It was not my decision to make." From what Lust could gather, it would seem Armstrong was a bit ashamed on behalf of the department. There was no doubt Archer would probably order his prompt stoning...the pompous idiot-bastard he seemed he was. Lust shook her head and sighed. Mentally bashing the police department would get her no where...
"Does it show that I don't favor your organization too well?" Lust asked off handedly, giving Armstrong one of the flat looks her brother was famous for. Armstrong looked like he wanted to shake his head in sympathy, but instead thought better of it.
"Yes, Though I'm said to be an insightful individual."
"Mm." Was Lust's simple reply as she broke off into her own thoughts for a moment. Envy had come home pretty late, but he'd had nothing on him...nothing that could've been used to murder someone anyway unless you count his belt. Besides...Envy wasn't a neat individual and had naturally thrown his belonging off and about only to be knocked out a moment later. Classic Envy. A woman as observant as Lust would notice something a miss if her brother had actually crashed at her house after killing someone.
"Well how was this Mr. St. Cabins murdered?" Lust asked, now completely serious-not that she wasn't before-her reverence seemed more guaranteed now than it was a moment ago. That would be the best question to ask first so she could get a better handle on the situation. Perhaps gain some reassurance about her brother's innocence.
Armstrong coughed and appeared to be going over his own imaginary stats, lowering his blue eyes to his lap in thought.
"He was stabbed. One slash across the side of his face and one push into his stomach." It was silent for a moment as Armstrong sat there, leaning over his lap and looking thoughtful again. To Lust he didn't seem to like the thought of one having their life taken from them. Sure it can easily be said that no one liked that thought...but that couldn't be farther from the truth. All sort of maniacs loved taking lives. Armstrong knew this all too well.
"He died a gruesome death it would seem." Lust remarked, her features now closed again but her eyes somewhat bitter.
"Give me the basic story." Armstrong cleared his throat.
"A young lady ran into the gym in panic, saying a boy had found face down in the hallway and there was a lot of blood. The game wasn't called off until security personnel at the scene and officers called in had seen the body for themselves. From what we gathered from the girl's story Envy had left for the hallways shortly before Mr. St. Cabins. Envy returned and St. Cabins did not." They held each other's gaze for a moment as the story's last words sat there in the air.
"I hope you don't find me rude for saying this but...Envy escaping from the gym before we had even begun thinking of what to do with the teenagers in the building, does not stand as a fact that will help his cause. His methods of disappearing make him look guilty." Armstrong set his gaze on Lust, who returned it knowingly. Yah, ok. For the sake of all honesty she'd have to admit that if Envy wasn't her brother he could easily be mistaken for a criminal...with some of his more unfavorable tendencies...but not a murderer damnit.
"I'm sure he wasn't the only teenager who found a way to slip out." Lust scoffed, narrowing her eyes at Armstrong and folding her hands in front of her mouth to stifle a laugh. It was a worried laugh. And also a laugh to cover up how much she might've agreed with him if she didn't have an obligation to Envy as her brother first off.
"Yes but he was the only teenager to somehow escape the building with incriminating evidence left at a murder scene." Armstrong said by way of attempting to neutralize the topic. But of course, this was not what happened.
Taking in this information, Lust had to admit that it was a bit suspicious. Armstrong seemed to be implying (and not in an accusatory or unkind manner) that her brother had ample time to escape the school before it's lock down, because there was a possibility he'd murdered another human being and knew it best not to stay at the game. All this made sense...but she still believed it couldn't have been her brother who murdered this 'Mr. St. Cabins'.
"Who found him?" Lust decided she didn't care if Armstrong believed her brother guilty or not. A man who knows good coffee or not he was still just a hunk of information at that moment. A distraction from what was actually going on with Envy for the present moment and those in the future.
"A young freshman girl, Kristen Evergreen. She gave us Envy's description. Also...she claims she received a call from Mr. St. Cabins on her cell phone. In her words: 'Naturally she assumed he wanted her to meet him outside in the hallway'." Lust gave a look that said she found something distasteful.
"And why would she assume that?" Yes, indeed why would some little freshman girl assume this boy wanted to meet her in the hallway?
"When questioned further she revealed that Bruno had propositioned her earlier in the course of the basketball game." Lust rolled her eyes and let out a breath.
"A stupid girl. One in every story. Perhaps two if you're lucky." Lust mused to herself darkly before a thought occurred to her.
"But she said she received a call from this Bruno on her cell phone. Wouldn't that have meant he was alive in order to call her?" Armstrong shook his head.
"She never actually heard his voice. His number came in on her cell phone but whoever did call-it could've been Mr. St. Cabins-hung up. She received yet another call shortly after the first..." A pause. "A moment after she came upon Bruno St. Cabin's body." Armstrong finished. Lust shook her head, suddenly feeling a bit cold. That information was a bit freaky...some killer walking around with a victim's cell phone and having enough gall to actually call someone on it. /Like they had wanted to make sure the right person found the body.../Her eyebrows furrowed. If she could just get them to find someone to prove Envy had been in the gym where he was supposed to be...and the cell phone...
"And the phone couldn't be found could it?" Lust asked, already knowing the answer-the chills were already trying to shake the information beneath her skin. Armstrong shook his head.
"Gone; along with the murder weapon. The only things found were a dog tag-your brother's name engraved on it- and evidence of a struggle in the bathroom." /Christ, that's just perfect, Envy.../
Silence settled again and while Lust was accustomed to eating, sleeping and just plain living in silence, she soon found that this silence was a bit heavy. Heavy enough to make her dizzy and a bit upset. Armstrong watched the woman before him with the sympathy that was character of him. He had no personal vendetta against her brother, he was just here to help found who had murdered this boy the way they had and why. To be honest. he'd have to say that things didn't look too good for the green haired youth sitting a few rooms down with Archer-but things were good in the fact that until a weapon was found and proved to have been in Envy's possession that night at the game, they couldn't necessarily convict him without the say of higher powers.
"There wasn't anything unusual about Envy when he came to your house last night?" Armstrong asked. Lust shook her head, blinking owlishly. She didn't really feel like speaking anymore. Not even more coffee could make her feel better.
"No signs of alcohol or drug use?" She shook her head again.
It could go one of two ways: Innocent until proven guilty or guilty until proven innocent. It all depended on the evidence available and your standing with authority figures. And Lust could already see from Archer's obvious condescending attitude towards Envy that the boy had been lumped in the guilty until proven innocent category.
Lust would've been glad to sit in silence for a while and ignore Armstrong while she mulled over things, if it wasn't for a very significant figure walking through the door about 5 minutes after silence had taken it's reign. Once her eyes caught sight of this figure they narrowed and the mind behind gave one plain, loathsome, bitter, sarcastic sort of thought:
/Damned if Thanksgiving isn't a day to be thankful./
A toothy, shark like grin appeared across the familiar figure's face. This grin, had the power to evoke extreme feelings of frustration, hatred, and utter loathing when graced upon the right person. In this case, Lust was indeed the right person to receive the full power of this shim sham grin, for these were her exact feelings as she found herself assaulted with 'the grin', now up close and personal, as the figure strode over.
Greed stood before Lust, 'smug as any bug under the pedophilic rug' and ready to hear some gossip, some news, a nice tale or two...about his dear nephew. Surely the police station hadn't just picked him up for the fun of it. This just had to be good...
"Greed, just what are you doing here? It can't be for anything useful." Lust spat at the man, tempted to actually spit upon his black snake skin boots and ground her heel upon his toe. It sure as hell would've made her feel a lot better. Might even improve the sham of a Thanksgiving the day was turning out to be.
Greed smirked, looking down at the dark haired woman and even whistling to himself as she stood and glared him down-or should he say up-nice and level like.
"I'm here to collect my nephew of course." Was the simple, brutally honest reply. /His nephew indeed./ Lust's mind muttered to itself darkly.
Following the trend it would seem, Armstrong took this moment to stand as well, his blue eyes studying the new face before him while trying to ignore the animosity that had instantly sparked up between the two handsome acquaintances the minute this man-whoever he was-had walked through the door.
"It would do this sir well to give me his name as well as the name of his nephew!" Armstrong's voice boomed forth from 'The Mustache' once again, getting a confused sort of look from Greed-his mouth forming the classic, baffled 'o'-and not a glance from those walking about the police station or Lust. The former parties mentioned had already grown used to this usual display of righteous, ab-dome.
"Um...my name would be Greed...?" Both Greed and Armstrong tried not to look confused. What was with these names. Envy? Lust? Greed? Surely they must all be...
Lust had to remind herself not to be disgusted with Armstrong for being as courteous to Greed as he was. Certainly the man couldn't have known what a disgusting bastard Greed was. Again, just like the case with his mustache, Armstrong would not be judged for being...Armstrong.
"Don't bother." Lust spat, still glaring down Greed who now returned her gaze coolly. "His 'nephew' is my brother."
Yes, that would be it, Armstrong surmised. /They're all family. /
"And wouldn't this man be your uncle as well?" Lust shot a hard look at Armstrong before Greed casually draped an arm around Lust shoulders. An arm which would surely be faced with severance if not removed sometime soon.
"You'd do well to get your hands off me you disgusting man, you." Lust growled, throwing Greed's arm away from her and glaring for all she was worth. Yes...that was indeed the awful truth of it all...Greed being her...uncle. Greed went on grinning, trying to take Lust's hand and ignore the venom she was currently spitting at him via glares and body language.
"Lust here likes to act all independent, like she's outgrown me...but we know I'm her favorite uncle." Greed purred, pulling Lust to him tightly only to be shoved roughly away by the woman. Lust clenched her bathrobe tighter as if merely coming in contact with Greed would bring some sort of acidic chemical reaction to eat away at her clothing-even her very flesh! Greed and her certainly didn't have good chemistry so one had to be careful when trying to mix the two.
Armstrong, however, didn't have this knowledge and continued to be astonished at Lust's and Greed's behavior toward one another.
"Wasn't there a time when I wished you to grow old and die? Why hasn't it happened yet!" Lust groaned, turning away from Greed and sulking to herself.
"Now Lust...don't you know that wishes are only granted to the deserving?" Greed admonished in a mocking tone putting a hand on his hip to make a grand, knowledgeable sort of gesture-as if he were Aristotle or some such person.
"Yes, and I'm sure a greedy bastard such as yourself would know all about being deserving." Lust hissed, her words spiked with the hatred she was sure she felt towards Greed.
Armstrong coughed and rubbed the back of his head, growing more uncomfortable by the second with this display of disregard for familial ties. He had to put a stop to it...
"Dear uncle and niece!" Armstrong declared, rising above the two slighter individuals with that same aura of justice he'd displayed earlier when dragging Lust away.
"Quarrel amongst yourselves no more! For just a two brothers must grow to love and respect each other the same way a husband is honor his wife and like wise, an uncle and niece should not quarrel in such a manner! There should be love to flow between them!"
Lust tried to hide just how appalled she was at the idea of love flowing between her and Greed-in any sort of life time while Greed smiled uncomfortably, for once unsure of how to deal with a situation as awkward as this one seemed to be turning out. Armstrong looked at both Greed and Lust expectantly, while they in turn stared back at him, unsure of what they were supposed to do.
After a moment, Armstrong seemed satisfied with them just not arguing anymore. He decided to leave them alone to the relief of both.
Between Lust's glaring at the floor, Armstrong's silence, and Envy's absence (along with his episode the day before) Greed couldn't say he was too thrilled with this day either. But it was easy to appear happy when one could piss of a woman and have her look gorgeous in the process. Being an asshole was fun at times, indeed it was.
One only had but so much patience for fun. Especially Greed. Let's take Envy's idea of fun for example...it was this fun that had Greed wasting his gas and a perfectly good morning to take a trip to the Police Department- of all things.
"Well I'm glad to see everyone's having a good Thanksgiving." Greed remarked, his sharp amber-violet-eyes teasing Lust and doing a jig from their place in his skull. Even though any witness would've said they were currently at a draw, Greed felt as if the victory was his for the moment.
"Now won't someone please tell me the deal with my dear nephew?"
(X)(x)(X)
"….and so with home in mind, I made the treacherous journey to my dear sister, Lust's house. The cold of the night beat against me but when finally reaching my destination the joy within my soul caused me to collapse tiredly upon the couch, dead to the world until the fateful morning on which-"
"Mr. Sin, I've gotten the concept now." Archer cut Envy off, a look of displeasure dulling his features. Envy cocked his head to the side.
"You sure? Because you did say you wanted a story and so here I am, telling my fucken story..." Envy rambled on, only too glad to make Archer's life a living hell. he was tired of the guy. he'd spent at least the last 45 minutes in a room with the dude and by all means it was time to go. He answered the man's stupid questions, yet he still found things to keep twisting and turning over. It was nauseating.
"So tell me more about your fight with Mr. St. Cabins. You made it clear in your story that you were good acquaintances...why fight?" Archer asked after a moment. Envy let out a breath and leaned back in his chair tiredly. How to explain to a stick up the ass Lieutenant like this that Bruno fucked boys-including himself. Hrmmm...
Well there was one sure fire way.
"Bruno wanted to fuck me. I say no, he says yes...
Envy held his two palms up as if balancing them against each other. "Surely you can see the problem here, officer-man?" Archer's yes widened in slight interest.
"Really...but in your story you also made it clear Mr. St. Cabins was dating a girl. A lovely blonde named SonnyVantripe who we've already looked up in our database...just why would he bother with you, Envy?" Database blah blah yatti yatti...ouch. Is it me or does it seem like Lieutenant Frank Archer here is taking the side of the dead man in this case? Which is kinda funny because if Bruno were alive the guy would probably sneer down at him the same way he's been sneering down at me...so why is it that it's hard to believe Bruno liked boys all of the sudden?
Instead of saying all of this I just shrug.
"I dunno. Maybe it's the eyes." I give a lazy smile and snicker, thinking back to the comments Greed frequently made about my eyes in reference to my mother. /Yah...a knock out with violet eyes.../ Archer scribbles some more in his pad and then fixes with me with a real serious look.
"So you're saying the nature of your relationship with Bruno St. Cabins was that of a sexual nature?" I make a face. What was with people these days that they just couldn't say 'to fuck or not to fuck?', 'did you fuck or not?', 'were you guys fuck buddies?'. It's not like it was that hard.
"If you mean did we fuck then yes." I say, trying to make my face as serious as Archer but finding his too damn funny to make one of my own. He arches an eyebrow at me as I continue laughing.
"In your relations with Mr. St. Cabins were you the receiving party or the giving party?" Top or bottom? What did this have to do with a damned murder investigation. I mean what could any information about Bruno and I having sex provide this officer-man with? Truthfully I was getting tired. so in no mood to answer petty questions such as 'Was I the receiving or giving party?'. What the fuck?
"I'm not inclined to answer that really...I mean what does that have to do with anything...?" I ask, which causes a smile to creep onto Archer's ever smug face.
"Are you feeling guilty, Mr. Sin?"
"No..."
"Because if you are I can understand. Most homosexuals feel a sense of wrong now and then. it's perfectly natural." He says in a serene manner that makes me wanna rip his face off.
"Listen, Lieutenant Archer Officer Man...instead of trying to make snipes at my preferences maybe you should get fucked now and then. Cops like you do like sticks up your asses frequently don't you?" I snap. Archer makes another tick on his board.
"Strike two, Mr. Sin...just answer the question." He says, ignoring my back chat. I sit back and push away from the table roughly with my feet, happy to see the table catch Archer off guard and hit his elbow. He acts like it doesn't hurt and pushes the table back a bit, giving another one of those displeased looks. Finally I sigh and smirk back at Archer.
"Fine, officer-man, you win. Bruno reamed my ass on two occasions. happy?" Another one of those interested looks. I'm beginning to think Archer is some sort of closet freak...like Greed probably was before I came along. After a moment of scribbling and what looks to be intense though, Archer makes that 'aaah' sound and looks at me with lurid, steely-blue eyes. He looks triumphant.
"That explains it." He says after a moment. If you listen close enough you can just catch the enthusiasm.
'Explains what?" I ask flatly.
"Why you killed Mr. St. Cabins." I rolls my head around on my shoulders and groan.
"Did it ever occur to you that if I killed Bruno I'd just tell you? Do I look like someone who'd want to sit on a room for over an hour with a dip shit like you?" Silence. "Well guess what, officer-man? I don't fucking thinks so." Mr. Lieutenant Archer remains unfazed.
"Most criminals would say that...but it's more about denying the crime and running from the gruesome details, isn't it?" He says in a clever manner Arching an eyebrow at me like he just kinged me expertly in some twisted, death match version of checkers. I roll my eyes and throw my hands in my lap.
"Fine, officer-man. Why do you think I supposedly killed Bruno?" Archer smiles to himself with a sort of self intelligence.
"It's very obvious...you envied Mr. St. Cabins girlfriend. "Archer laughs at his own little private joke. I find nothing funny...if anything I'm disgusted. Me? Envious of fucken Sonny? Sonny Sunshine?
"Wat?"
"Well it's natural that you must envy Sonny. She as a female is allowed Bruno's attentions without argument or question but you as a male on the other hand..."
"Waaat?"
"You must have an interesting case of vaginal envy. With how long you've been acquaintances with Mr. St. Cabins and all. It must've bothered you to be the eternal one night stand." That's it. I believe that Mr. Lieutenant Frank Archer has a serious mental defect: he's a dick head. There.
"You're screwed in the head Archer, very badly. Were you one of those kids that got their head stuck in the banister? I say, staring at the man in what I'm assuming is a cross between astonishment and amusement and confusion. Archer just looks at me, all teeth, as if this theory he's concocted has cured cancer, sheltered the homeless, and saved the damn children with just it's mention.
"Oh? Well tell me what's so farfetched about this theory Mr. Sin. I find the best I've come up with by far!" I snort. Typical asshole.
"First off, gay or not, there's no way I'd be jealous of Miss Sonny 'Sunshine'-believe me when I say I use this name in the most sarcastic manner possible-Sonny is in fact jealous of yours truly." Archer gives me a pointed, quizzical look.
"Really?" He snorts giving me one of those 'fat chance your a faggot' looks. Yes, I mean surely in the mind of bastards such as Archer, it's impossible for anyone to be jealous of flaming faggots and other 'unholies'.
I sigh. "You know... for someone..." I reach across the table and pluck up the abandoned pencil in front of Archer, balancing it on back of my hand. "... whose supposed to be wearing the pants in this interrogation..." I give him a sideways look and leer before flipping the pencil onto one of my fingers. "...you sure are sucking me real hard, mister." Archer's face all the sudden becomes more a mosaic of angry little lines and furrows as he gives me one of those annoyed looks. Oops. Looks like I challenged his manhood.
I can just see him opening his mouth to say something about strike three and I cut in before he can move further.
"Can we please switch it back to interrogation mode and get on with our miserable lives? Cause personally I'm not to keen on this whole let's bash and jail the gay boy thing. C'mon Archer, whad'dya say?" Archer, who looks no less annoyed than he did a few seconds ago opens his mouth, looking like he's about to say something nasty when he's interrupted yet again-and this time not by me but by some slacker of an officer with a cigarette hanging out his mouth.
Archer turns around and narrows his eyes at the man, mad at the world because he's been told he was sucking dick by a 16 year old. Real mature.
"Havoc, what the hell have I told you about those cigarettes?" Archer barks. This Havoc guy looks un fazed. Instead of sitting the cigarette out he takes another drag and blows out a lazy looking ring of smoke. His eyes drift over to me for a brief moment and I wiggle my fingers in salutation.
He grunts and steps into the room with a lacy pair of satin, pink heels in his hand. Okaaaaaaay...shall I not ask...?
Archer is still looking at the orange haired man like he's the worst thing to have ever stepped before him, and I'm surprised to realize I'm not the one under Archer's shoe for the moment.
"Umm, Archer?"
"Yes?" Snaps Archer irritably.
"I think you should tell this kid to go home." He says raising the shoes and his eyebrows at the same time.
"And just why the hell should I do that?"
"Well because..." Havoc sighs, exhaling more smoke and closing his eyes as if asking the forces that be for the power to tolerate Archer in his sour attitude. "...unless this kid runs an annual drag show there's a good possibility you've got the wrong person."
Havoc raises the shoes and turns them enough so we can see the blood splattered a bit over the front and along the side. Archer narrows his eyes even more and I wear I see a smirk tugging at the corner of the other guy's mouth. He hasn't removed the cigarette from between his lips since he first poked his head in the room.
"Tell me what those are, Havoc." Archer demands. Havoc situates himself in front of the table and smiles lazily.
"These, good sir, are a pair of shoes we found in a dumpster behind the school-nearest to the entrance where this kid's body was found." He turns now and then as if displaying the shoes for some twisted fashion show. His antics amuse me and I let my eyes follow his movements attentively.
"Their a pair of..." He looks inside the shoe."...Charlotte Russe's pumps of some sort...size 6...3 inch heel...baby pink...satin finish..." Havoc rattles off lethargically, already bored with Archer's foolishness. Archer let's out some sort of animalistic, frustrated sound, knocking his chair back as he stands. he snatches the shoes from Havoc-who gives them up without a fuss ( like the guy really cares to walk around with a pair of baby pink 3 inch heels)-and examines them for himself. For the third time Archer is cut off as he's about to say something that's probably as condescending and demeaning as the usual crap that spews from his mouth.
"We already took a sample of the blood. It matches-not to mention it matches a pair of foots prints that cut off about to steps from the body." Archer palms his face and for a shred of a second I feel his pain. I know he was looking forward to putting me in jail and toying with me a bit more in the name of justice, but it looks like our fun is done for the time being. I give Havoc applause and he mock bows, puffing more smoke out his nostrils in victory.
Archer, meanwhile, looks around at everyone with hard eyes-as if willing the world to change a bit for his sake. I bet that asshole wishes those shoes could be mine at this point. But it's obvious their kinda small-even for me whose feet aren't that big in the first place-and when I came to the game, any blind man with a cane and no balance could tell you I was wearing sneakers. And if I wanted to kill somebody I sure as hell wouldn't be walking around with a pair of Charlotte Russe heels to change into when the time comes to commit the bloody act. I know for a fact I'm a lot smarter than that.
"You wouldn't happen to be a cross dresser too would you?" Archer asks, already knowing the answer despite what he'd like to believe about a homo-slut like me. I shake my head and stand, stretching.
"Nope. Haven't got my license yet." I say shortly, waving Archer off and getting ready to continue my business. I know the bastard probably wants me to wait for his dismissal-as his angry gaze indicates-but that's not my kinda party. I yawn and give Archer a lopsided grin for comfort.
"Looks like we're done here officer man." Archer turns away from me with a look of outrage and disgust (because certainly the world isn't fair if gays' and bis' and punks aren't behind bars)while I coo at his back.
"Aww it's ok Archie, maybe we'll have as good a time as we did today some other time. Maybe my place, next Friday... 9 o'clock?" Havoc chuckles and gives me a two fingered salute as walk towards the door.
The air is tense and Archer doesn't respond, he just keeps his back to me before saying:
"Get out my face and be on your way, urchin." Again, ouchies.
"I love you too." I purr, mustering all my energy to acts as feminine as possible before blowing a kiss at Archer and winking at Havoc who looks like he's on the verge of bursting into laughter.
It' s not too far into the day, so I'm thinking I still have time to escape somewhere-that's if they haven't called Greed's beastie ass up here...which with my luck they most likely have.
Sitting with Archer was one of those mind numbing yet fun processes. Almost like taking hits off a blunt-they feel good at first but after a while your head starts to fuzz and you get a headache coming on, but you still keep going because it feels sort of good at the same time. I know that's how it works for me anyway. If I do right and have the gods smile upon me then I should never have to see Archer's fucken face again. That's if I do right...which I most likely won't
Halfway down the corridor my mind starts wandering back to what actually happened last night. I turn my back on Bruno only to have some righteous soul swoop in and kill him probably less than a second later. That same person was probably in the hallway-hidden somewhere-when I was leaving. If it was just an average hack and slash murder then chances are that the same 'righteous soul'-as I have dubbed them-could've taken me out. But they didn't...and that's what makes me sort of weary...because that means that whoever killed Bruno meant to kill Bruno. /They had to have known him./
Bruno might've been an asshole but he made enemies with people too sane to bother slashing him in a hallway. An insane person would kill Bruno...and the shoes indicates an insane piece of estrogen...a murderess so to speak.
/Even when we reached the door on the other side of the room, I could still feel Sonny glaring at my back…glaring at our backs…just the way someone would if they wanted a person to drop dead./
And it's at that moment I realize that I recognize the shoe for what it is. Even if I haven't actually seen it before, its style is so familiar and I know who it belongs to. Because even if Sonny is a worn and strung, crack headed floozy who doesn't know when to stop for her own good she still is unstable enough to have wanted Bruno dead.
/"See ya later, Sunshine." He laughed, and he was mocking her, and she knew it. She screwed up her face in barely contained hatred. /
"Hurry your ass over here Envy." Over yonder I can see Greed standing with a livid Lust and a confused, but silent, Armstrong. Despite Greed's little orders or whatever I don't move any faster. Because no matter how fast I move I know before they do lock Sonny up in a nice little crazy house I'm gonna have to confront her. Because is she was crazy enough to hate Bruno, chances are she's crazy enough to have hated my guts too-because let's face it, I don't get prizes for being nice, especially to people like Sonny.
/Why the hell are so many people crazy about my ass…/ I wonder, eyeing Greed as he grows closer.
Sonny killed Bruno. Who else would've been retarded enough to leave their high heeled, size six, pink shoes so close to the crime scene? I'll tell you who: nobody...except for maybe Wrath or Bruno himself.
Well even if so...I'm off the hook...and so in that moment before finally reaching Greed and the rest of my little welcome back party...I thank the powers of fuck...or God...
For floozies.
(X)(x)(X)
Author's Note: That's chapter 12. Let me know what you think of it because I personally feel it could've been better. Maybe I'll go back and tweak it once I make it back onto the story roll and stop being a slacker. Hehe...luv u dudes.