QUESTION: Any ideas/requests for Kimblee? I sort of want to write him :3
ANSWERS TO REVIEWS:
1-800fangirl: (blushes) :3 Aw uh, t-thanks so much! I'm glad I didn't screw it up o.o Hmm..."suave" huh? Hmm...Aaron? Adrian? Leon? Yup, obviously I don't have the brain for making up names today T_T (cries tears of joy) Oh thank you so much! :) haha I really like reviews like yours (not because of the compliments, but they are nice too ;)) because then I can see what was good/not good and what I can still improve. And you have my sincere thanks for the compliment, I'm glad my one shots aren't starting to get boring, because I thought they had!
Emma: Hmm...Deerg (reverse Greed huh?) Well, I was thinking of some "smooth, suave" name to fit his character and style, though I have trouble making one up .
GrumpyCatWriter101: haha Seriously can you read my mind? Maybe I'm getting old and obvious... I wrote on my "ideas for chapters" chapter 35, I think?, about the same situation with Barry the Chopper, where Riza actually goes on a date with him and Roy gets jealous, though I can tone it down on the comedy if you like :)
WARNING: Kimblee fic! A bit of blood and gore ahead people! And mind games, because...well it's Kimblee the Philosopher ^^
Because I Could
The three friends clad in uniform sat on boxes in a circle, their gazes downcast, looking at the sand beneath their feet as their minds were clouded by the grotesque events prior to this day. The order from the higher ups to exterminate the Ishvalans, a one sided annihilation in a futile attempt to bring an end to the long war and shorten any more casualties than they already suffered.
Riza spoke first, in a low voice, "Maybe you can answer this Major, why are we being ordered to kill citizens when we should be the ones protecting them?" her eyes said it all, the eyes of a killer, "I thought alchemy was meant to be used to help people, so why is it being used to kill them instead?"
Roy's gaze shared the same dark, drained look like his friend, but no matter how hard he tried, he didn't know the answer to that question. He was just as desperate as she to know why they were being forced to do these inhumane actions against their own people, against innocent human beings.
Suddenly, a new voice sounded from a few feet across from them, "Because that's the job we State Alchemists have been given to do," the soldier clad in uniform held his metal cup in his hand as he spoke evenly, "You asked why we are here killing these people instead of protecting them? Because this is a war and that's what soldiers do." He opened his closed eyes, which were the color of a icy blue that equally represented his attitude, "Isn't that right?" the question almost seemed mocking and Roy's brows furrowed in annoyance.
"That guy...why does he have to interfere in our conversation?" an uneasy feeling settled into the pit of Roy's stomach, "You think this is our job? To cause tragedy?" Roy grit his teeth when the man seemed indifferent.
He rubbed his chin as if in thought, "Well, that's how it seems but let's see." His cold, even gaze turned to Riza, "Tell me miss, you're not very happy to be here are you? Well, you don't appear to be," at this, Riza's look turned grim and she avoided his piercing eyes, opting to stare at the ground, soaked in blood and sand.
She felt suddenly uneasy, sick to her stomach when the air around her turned frightfully cold as the man started to speak again, and when she lifted her gaze to look at him, she almost froze in fear at how truly piercing and terrifying his gaze truly was as his razor sharp voice cut through the air, "But can you honestly tell me, in that split second when you take down an enemy, you don't allow yourself to feel the slightest tinge of satisfaction and pride in your skills?" at Riza's horrified look, he smirked coldly, tauntingly, "Well, miss marksman?"
Roy's patience ran out when he shot up from his seat and stormed toward the male, grabbing him roughly by the scruff of his uniform, "That's enough Kimblee!" his voice was a growl at how his words had such an impact on Riza, on everyone.
The soldier called Kimblee however, didn't stop, looking directly at Roy, the coldness never leaving his eyes, "I'll tell you what I don't get, did you people honestly expect something different? You act like you're surprised, like you didn't choose this," Kimblee was undeterred from Roy's rough grip around the collar of his shirt.
Roy faltered for a second at his words which were undeniably true.
"Did you put on that uniform thinking you wouldn't be asked to kill?" Kimblee shoved Roy's hand away, which had already slackened its hold on him from his truthful but cold words, "The one thing worse than death is to avert your eyes from it," Kimblee's voice took on a cutting edge, a threat underlying his words as he leaned in closer to Roy.
"Look straight at the people you kill, don't take your eyes off them for a second. And don't ever forget them, because I promise that they won't forget you," Kimblee's words pierced something inside all of them, it was terror, it was disgust at his lack of compassion, it was...
The truth.
Kimblee frowned, perched on top of a roof of a still intact building that managed to get away with mere bullet holes and some destroyed rubble here and there.
He surveyed the area of what was once a battlefield before him with a cold, calculating look. No...this wasn't a battlefield, it had been a one sided annihilation and he knew it. The people they have come to eliminate hadn't even been armed, had no chances of protecting themselves from powerful State Alchemists like they were.
His keen eye sight spotted the trio he had talked to earlier, Mustang, the markswoman and one other soldier Mustang seemed to be friends with. He snorted in disgust.
"Such naïve fools, enrolling into the military and being surprised they killed people? How foolish," he spat in his mind, temper flaring slightly when he remembered the horrified look on the woman and Mustang's face as he spoke of the truth about war.
To others, he may be ruthless and cold, but he saw it differently. He said nothing but the truth, however cruel it may be. He wasn't the type to lace his words with comforting tones if he knew there was no other alternative.
And suddenly, he heard a whimpering sound from somewhere behind him. When he turned toward where he thought was the source, he spotted a still intact piece of rubble of what was once a wall of a building, the corner, a perfect hiding spot for possible survivors.
A small smirk played on his lips as he flexed his hands, feeling the air around him humming with unreleased, alchemical power. There was a long, dark cloth covering the inside of the corner and Kimblee swiftly removed it.
His suspicions were correct when they revealed a little boy, but it wasn't an Ishvalan. He had pale skin, dark hair tied into a longer pony tail and slanted, bright blue eyes. In a bizarre way, he reminded him of Kimblee himself, but that was as far as similarities went.
The boy's fear increased when he saw Kimblee and the gun strapped to his back and he cowered pathetically, as if physically shielding himself with his little arms could protect him from his impending doom.
Usually, Kimblee wouldn't waste his time on killing his target, but his orders were eliminating the Ishvalans. And this child wasn't one. Still, he rose an eyebrow in confusion.
"What is this child doing here? It's certainly no Ishvalan so how did it get here?" for a split second, Kimblee was tempted to inquire the child about its origins and its purpose being here but he was interrupted.
"Having problems, Kimblee?" the soldier turned his head toward the source of the voice and found a man that was part of his group. He didn't know him by name, he hadn't bothered for such formalities nor did he care, but the man's stance had irked him some.
Kimblee remained silent and the man's venomous green eyes turned down to look at the crying child, who had silenced himself by biting on his little hand, blood slowly trickling from the small wound inflicted by his teeth.
For a brief moment, Kimblee was surprised at the child's pain tolerance but it quickly vanished when the soldier scoffed in disdain.
"What are you waiting for? Kill it, Kimblee," the man took out a cigarette, casually lighting it as if they weren't about to end a very young life.
Something inside Kimblee forced him to say his next words, "This child isn't an Ishvalan," he paused to gauge the other soldier's reaction and he received a blank look, "My orders aren't to kill a non Ishvalan," the words even surprised Kimblee himself the moment they left his lips.
The soldier seemed caught off guard, but hid it well with a bark of laughter, the child flinched at hearing the sharp sound, "Oh? The Crimson Alchemist is hesitant to kill fodder now? What happened? Grown soft Kimblee?" he taunted, laughing with his cigarette in his mouth.
Kimblee noticed the child shaking in fear, trying to mold himself to the wall to be invisible to his potential killers.
The State Alchemist felt his ire increasing, "Let's take our leave, the child will be taken care of by someone else," Kimblee made a move to walk forward, but the man had his rifle out, aimed at the terrified child, who, much to his surprise, tried acting tough, blinking back the onslaught of tears and staring the soldier pointing a gun at him straight in the eyes, his frame shaking.
Kimblee arched a brow at the hostile act, "Why should we? We can take care of the trash right away ourselves," the soldier grinned in sadistic glee, loading his rifle.
Something inside Kimblee made him look at the child again, while not related by blood, the child vaguely reminded Kimblee of himself, back then when another war had been waged and his father had been brutally killed by a soldier in front of his eyes.
He blamed it on the sudden memories, on the annoying cries of the terrified child for what he did next.
Kimblee walked in front of the child which made the soldier frown, "Hey now Kimblee, what are you doing? Get out of the way and let me kill it," Kimblee frowned, his gentlemanly mannerisms slowly dissipating to leave the mad bomber that he was known to be in his wake.
When he opened his eyes, they were the same threatening ice cold blue yet blazing as he glared the soldier down, "I don't think so," his voice was low and lethal, "You see, I have a penchant for loud explosions...and I've wondered what your body may sound like when it combusts from the inside," a smirk grew on his lips as he watched with rapt attention how the body of the annoying soldier exploded before his very eyes, droplets of blood spraying on his uniform and all around him.
He relished the loud sound of cracking bones, combusting insides and the explosion itself. It may not have been his best piece of art, but it had felt good to be gone of such a nuisance.
He heard a small whimper and he turned his head, the child was staring up at him, but contrary to the emotions he thought should be there.
Instead of fear the child bore a small sense of curiosity, caution and pain. Kimblee's mind wandered, "This child...why doesn't he fear me suddenly? He had feared me before, so why not now?"
He turned fully around, regarding the boy with an arch of his brow when the boy spoke quietly, "Will you kill me?"
Mildly surprised by the boy's forward question, Kimblee answered truthfully, "My orders are to kill Ishvalans, but you're not an Ishvalan," he paused, "Why are you here?"
The child gripped his bleeding arm, the one he had bitten into in an attempt to silence his whimpers and replied, "My parents were killed by Ishvalans...I...I thought they were taken hostage here but I saw an Ishvalan kill them..." the boy appeared eloquent in speech, perhaps Kimblee had deduced his age wrong, he had close to no experience with children so he couldn't tell.
The boy looked back up at Kimblee, "W-why did you kill him? W-wasn't he your friend?" he was referring to the now dead soldier.
Kimblee smiled, "No, just a nuisance." That was all he would answer, his eyes zeroed in on the bleeding wound, "You're brave, for a child." The boy looked down at his hand.
"I thought he would kill me if I made a sound," Kimblee chuckled at the child's naivety.
"He would have killed you regardless," in a bizarre way, it felt a bit refreshing speaking to a child so openly. It usually disgusted him when parents would sweet coat their words and tell the children a morphed form of the truth, or a complete lie.
The boy remained silent, but regained courage to speak after a minute, "But why did you save me?" the child was more perceptive than Kimblee would have ever given him credit for.
He looked up at the sky, "I may be a dog of the military, but not even I appreciate the sight of a mongrel killing someone who is not their target," the child seemed to process these words.
"I'm not an Ishvalan, that means I'm not your target, but you kill just because you can, right?" the words caught Kimblee completely off guard, his eyes widening at the child's analysis of him.
The boy didn't seem to be deterred, "You like explosions, you don't care if lives are lost by the result of a war or any other conflict and you love to hear the sound explosions make, that's why you love your alchemy," Kimblee stood on alert, not knowing who this boy was or how it knew so much about him.
"Who are you?" Kimblee narrowed his eyes down at the boy but his gaze remained unflinching even under Kimblee's lethal glare, the atmosphere changing its tune to a threatening, anticipating one.
"I'm S.J.," he replied simply, not bothering to fully introduce himself nor why he knew the things he did about Kimblee.
"S.J.?" Kimblee's brow arched and he felt uneasiness settle inside of him, "What is your full name?"
The boy with icy blue eyes smiled, his voice echoing in his head "Solf J. Kimblee,"
Kimblee's eyes shot open and he violently shot up from his futon, perspiration coating his body in a thin layer of sweat he tried to steady his breathing.
He rested one hand on the side of his face, trying to ban the images from his mind.
His parents killed by an Ishvalan in front of him, being trapped in a warzone he had been sure he would die in, eventually enrolling in the State military later on and becoming its dog and learning alchemy.
Why did he dream this? To his logical, calculating mind it made no sense imagining his child self in the situation back when they had gotten the order for the extermination, how his adult self had actually protected his younger version.
"I'm not an Ishvalan, that means I'm not your target, but you kill just because you can, right?" the words of the child in his dream, or rather, his own words, echoed in his mind.
Just because I can.
Just because I can...
Kimblee smirked, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds of his own grand explosions as the people around him screamed in terror and fear.
Oh shit...wow, never planned on the story taking this turn of events...there wasn't even supposed to be a child version of him there at all! I just...wrote with the flow...o.o lol Opinions are appreciated!