Nightshift 24: Second M Block, Near the bathrooms and exit

[crimson-handed.livejournal.com]

((Coming from here.))

It wasn't a long way to go before he wound up at the doors leading out of the cellblock. Kimbley couldn't quite remember what room Wesker said he was in - not that it mattered - but he knew it would still be a while. The doors had just unlocked; he wasn't expecting anything, or anyone, else to show up and recognize him for a while.

Hah, although it would be deadly if Mustang showed up and saw him. Then he might have to forego traveling through this place with Wesker just to spend some time with his old friend. That would be more than worth the later bruises he got - or the current ones.

Now he was hoping Mustang arrived. Really, really hoping. He hadn't had fun since Lior; it was about time something happened.

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[proud-king.livejournal.com]

Bradley cocked his head slightly to the side, non-plussed. He should have expected that reaction from another homunculus, though Bradley hadn't sensed any recognition from him. That too was expected.

He had hoped for better from Kimbley, though. And if he hoped to get anything more out of him, he would have to do something before Greed maimed him beyond usefulness. Bradley was still acutely aware of his weakness, but that Kimbley was still breathing at all after that punch told him Greed was no better off.

With surprise as his only real advantage, he grabbed the back of Greed's collar and yanked him backward enough to step between them, where he bent to haul the human to his feet by the collar.

Bradley was accustomed to reducing his actions to human standards, but he was by no means pleased that this appeared to be his limit as well.

Regardless, he had their attention, and if he kept it, it would have to be the power of his command alone that did it.

"On your feet, soldier," he scolded kindly, keeping the lieutenant colonel upright between his fist and the wall, his smooth voice at odds with his force. "I'll forgive you for your lack of respect if you'll forgive me for your wrongful imprisonment."

He'd released Greed by this time, preferring not to reveal his weakness by being forced to do it. He trusted, however, that his sheer bulk would be enough to remain where he was for the moment. He glanced easily between them despite the tension. His smile remained.

"You two should be more friendly, considering you have that in common, Greed."

[crimson-handed.livejournal.com]

The punch came hard, and Kimbley's entire head rang with the blow. Pain exploded in his mouth along with blood, flooding it with the taste of iron and copper. Greed's fists were already stronger than any normal human's; coated with a thick, black layer of solidified carbon, they were deadly. He supposed it was fortunate that this place had sapped the homunculus' strength.

Regardless, Kimbley was completely dazed and almost on the brink of unconsciousness due to that hit. He wasn't quite there when the Fuhrer abruptly yanked Greed off of him and hauled him upright, pinning him against the wall with one fist and keeping Greed at bay. It was with unfocused eyes that he looked up at his former highest-commanding officer and smirked, blood trailing down his chin and staining his teeth faintly pink.

"I don't forgive," he muttered, trying to regain his footing as the pain throbbed in the back of his head. Focus. Either get back your control or die at the hands of a homunculus in front of the Fuhrer. That would just be embarassing.

[grabby-hands.livejournal.com]

Greed was taken aback literally and figuratively as he felt a strong hand grip the collar of his embarrassing grey uniform and haul not only him but his quarry upwards.

No surprise that it was the same weirdo as before, and now that he was closer, Greed found that the man looked familiar, eerily so, though he was sure he'd never met him before.

Wait, the eyepatch--Greed's eyes widened, then narrowed at the man's revealing that he knew his identity, and more, his sad history. It didn't take long for the homunculus to put one and two and three together--newspaper clippings and spying revelations, as well as Dante's murmurs of future plans while he'd been in the hag's employ--and he finally gave a crooked grin as he realized just who--and what--this man was.

"I'm not friendly with traitors," Greed spat through a wide sneer, "or with that bitch's dogs."

[proud-king.livejournal.com]

Bradley had never had the pleasure of meeting the Shield's fist, but he could easily imagine the damage it could do, and Kimbley must have been impressively determined not to lose consciousness. Still, he wasn't exactly firm on his feet, and Bradley continued to hold him up by the collar. Despite the soldier's obvious lack of loyalty, he would be valuable to Bradley, provided Bradley could gain some collateral for dealing with him. He preferred not to allow his extermination just yet.

He'd need collateral for Greed as well. His intelligence and tendency towards independence could be to Bradley's benefit or detriment: it was better that Greed recognize him on both counts, but not if he distributed such information indiscriminately.

Still propping the unsteady alchemist against the wall, Bradley turned more towards the homunculus behind him, a smile of reassurance in place. "If you do know me, you'll understand I have to be the diplomat. I have no quarrel with you, personally."

His smile altered, almost hidden by the mustache.

"You see, I am friendly with traitors, Greed." Bitch's dogs or not, Greed turned his back on them.