Theme 21 – Mystique
The streets of Rush Valley were so crowded that Winry almost didn't notice when someone jostled past her with a whisper of covetous fingers across her collarbone. Clapping her hand reflexively to her neck, Winry felt the absence of a familiar thin chain and whirled, pulling a screwdriver from her tool belt and hurling it at the back of the pickpocket's head as she slipped away into the crowd.
It hit dead center, and the woman yelped and stumbled to her knees. Diving forward, Winry twisted the woman's arm behind her back and levered her to her feet again, marching her into a side alley away from the crowds.
"Give it back," she hissed into her captive's ear. The woman chuckled dizzily.
"Quite the vigilante law enforcement you've got here," she murmured. "If I knew the little girls were this dangerous here, I would have tried Central instead."
"I said give it back!" Winry insisted, giving her a shake. In answer, the thief's hand dipped into her pocket, drawing out a plain silver locket.
"What a cheap bauble," she scoffed. "I was hoping for something really valuable to pawn." Winry growled, and she laughed. "Ah, sentimental value. Charming. Let's see what's in it, shall we?" she suggested, and flicked the catch with her thumbnail before Winry could protest. The locket opened to a photograph: a teenaged boy, blond hair in a loose ponytail, grinning broadly.
"Hey!" Winry yelped, trying to snatch the locket without letting go of her captive's arm. The woman raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting," she murmured, and suddenly her stance shifted and she slipped out of Winry's grasp as easily as water. "I suppose I owe a favor to any friend of Edward Elric," she purred, and tossed the piece of jewelry back to her. It flew through the air like a comet, trailing a glimmer of silver chain behind it, and Winry nearly dropped it in her surprise.
"You know him?" she sputtered.
The thief smiled. "Quite well, you could say. We had a bit of…business a few years ago, during his travels."
Staring at her, Winry belatedly realized that she was young and exotically lovely, with sumptuous curves. Uneasily, she curled her fingers tightly around the locket, her own skinny figure and straw-yellow hair suddenly feeling painfully ordinary.
The woman seemed amused by her discomfort. "You know what he liked best about me?" she purred, and reached for the zipper to her shirt, tugging it down to expose several inches of luxurious cleavage…
"This," she said, and pointed to the array tattooed across her chest as Winry's eyes widened in surprise. "I offered him anything he desired, and I do mean anything…and he asked for alchemical information, the silly sot."
Rolling her eyes, Psiren turned and sauntered away to melt into the crowd again, calling over her shoulder, "He's a scholar to the bone, that one. If you can get his attention and keep it, little girl, you have more mystique than I ever did."