#doldoldolcetto

She sat, listened and just...absorbed what the older chimera said. Nodding occasionally. Looking up rather than directly at him.

"That's ok, ya dont gotta know how. I was just curious cause I dont think I ever was? Dont remember ever being human at least--only know....this"

✏ / @doldoldolcetto not currently accepting.

she listened attentively following the cadence in his voice as he read through the pages to the best of his ability. the underlying trail of phonemes and muscles used for sounds that didn't exist in the amestrian language. riza wondered if such sounds and accent came through whenever she tried to speak xingese, how many times her other half must have picked it up yet never made her feel bad about it.

it was a nice thing really... a reminder that the world didn't start and end in amestris.

Without a word a gloved hand came to rest on Dolcetto's shoulder and lightly pushed him back into the chair.

"You took a bad hit to the head, not going anywhere." He didn't care if he felt like he could run a marathon right now Timaeus was going to ensure he sat and did nothing for the time being.

Besides he wanted to make sure he hadn't acquired any other injuries.

He hadn't exactly planned on acting as doctor while at the Nest but here he was tending to Dolcetto after a fight broke out in the bar.

Send  ⁉️  for my muse to find yours lying on the street, bleeding

There was a body on the ground. Bleeding dying- maybe. If they'd been injured recently, Femus hadn't seen it. Guilt burned his stomach, legs carrying him the short distance to the prone figure.

If he still had a heart, he knew it would be racing. He knelt beside the bleeding man, pulling down his hood to ensure the other- if he was still conscious- couldn't see his face. Years stuck in the warzone informed enough. If he saw his face, he would panic. Panic made the heart beat faster. Made the blood flow. Made the bleeding worse. His trembling fingers felt over the other's body, trying to find the source of the bleeding.

The bar at the Devils Nest was never too busy, especially since all the unsavory types came long after nightfall and it was only sunset. It was the perfect time for Dolcetto; early enough that the boss wasn’t out yet, and late enough that a few regulars were already settled near the bar, expecting their usual drinks. He was in the midst of passing a row of shots on a tray to Martel when the bell above the door rung, swinging as the door was gently pushed open.

Everyone in the Nest immediately felt the presence of the newcomer, trying to catch a glance of them. He looked…short. Kid-level short.

Dolcetto looked in Martel’s direction, quickly turning back to the bar once she nodded. It wasn’t unusual for teens to come and test their luck, trying to fool Dolcetto and the rest of the Nesties with fake ids and a fake overbearing “adult” presence. Hopefully the kid would leave after being told to, and if not… Dol and Martel had plenty of experience kicking out unruly patrons.

The kid quickly made his way to the bar, pulling out an id and placing it on the hardwood bar. Dolcetto glanced it it, gathering information while occasionally flicking his eyes up to the person in front of him.

“Y'sure your actually uh,” He paused to pick up the id, squinting his eyes to read the age, “twenty-three, kid?”

A quick sweep of the id proved the man in front of him (though short) was definitely twenty-three, but also part of the military. Shit. Shit. Military officials brought trouble, and it didn’t help the Nest was full of fugitives, Dolcetto included. He could try to take the soldier out to the back and deal with him, dump the body near one of the old warehouses. But in the possibility more soldiers came and investigated the disappearance…

Maybe he could stall for time till Greed came out?

He wasn't surprised at all when the bartender questioned the validity of his ID.

It didn't stop him from being a bit disappointed, though. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head for a moment before looking back up. "Yes, I'm twenty-three. I do acknowledge the fact that I look like an infant."

Maybe the joke was funny, at least. He sure hoped so, especially considering the longer Kain looked at the man before him, the more offput he was seeming to become. Had he done something to upset the bartender somehow, or was there something off inside the bar?

The sergeant looked around, finding nothing horribly worrying - no fights, no threats, no people too drunk and rowdy for their own good. He was the problem here, but what had he done in less than five minutes?

Glancing back down at the wallet still in his hands, he figured out... maybe part of the issue, given he'd accidentally mixed up his civilian ID with his military ID. Perhaps Dublith was not-so-friendly to military. There were lots of places like that. And, really, for good reason - the Amestrian military wasn't exactly friendly as a whole.

But Kain was not the violent type, nor was he a snitch, nor was he entirely supportive of any of the top brass. No. He just wanted a G&T, not to scare the daylights out of some poor guy working at a bar.

guests at a party … sentence starters

Surprised by the voice, Envy let out a quiet curse and turned to see Dolcetto standing to his left; apparently he wasn't the only one who needed a break from blaring music and conversations being yelled overtop of each other. Greed certainly hadn't exaggerated when he talked about inviting 'damn near everyone' and it seemed as if they all accepted the invitation; he had to give his brother some credit, the bastard knew how to throw a decent party.