#indomitableicequeen

It was supposed to be a friendly meeting between the troops from the North and East. Roy brought his usual team with him under that assumption, but still advised them to be prepared. The Pact of Non-Aggression with Drachma was flimsy at best, and like hell he’d let Major General Armstrong see him at anything less than his best should the unexpected occur.

He tempted fate with such thinking. Drachma saw the opportunity to strike, and took it. Gloves on, and extra sets available in his pockets, Roy was prepared for combat. The battlefield quickly descended into chaos, his team working quickly to coordinate with Briggs forces to counter. Perfect attack and perfect defense working together--Drachma would soon realize their mistake.

Perhaps that’s what prompted the shot meant for General Armstrong. Quick on his feet, Roy didn’t think twice about pushing her out of the way. She could yell at him for it later--maybe after he dealt with the deep cut to his arm. Face in the snow, and holding back the urge to yell out in pain, Roy put one hand on his new wound to apply pressure. He had his other glove.

And General Armstrong still had her sword. That Drachman soldier had no chance to consider the foolishness of his actions, his arm cut clean off before she sent him crashing into the snow. Good. Roy took the few seconds to gather his strength, and push himself to stand. Yes, the cut hurt like hell, and he knew his movement would be slower as a result.

But, now he was pissed.

Closed Rp with @indomitableicequeen Continued from here

Of course she wouldn’t want anyone to know about this, it just wasn’t in her nature to come off as weak of any sort. He saluted again at her request to not tell anyone especially Alex. Roy wouldn’t disrespect that request not when she outranked him.

I seem to have gotten several new followers lately, and just in case they’d like to know, I thought I’d list off my FMA blogs for them! No pressure to interact, but because four of them are sideblogs, I can’t directly follow with them, which means that it’s not always quite as easy to get them noticed! Listed blow are my FMA blogs, with links to each!

1) Riza Hawkeye @scentedbygunpowder​ (main blog)

2) Black Hayate @loyalestdoginthemilitary (side blog)

3) Sheska @theburiedbookworm (side blog)

4) Olivier Armstrong @indomitableicequeen (side blog)

5) Amue, Strongine, and Catherine Armstrong @forgottenarmstrongsisters (multimuse side blog)

{ ♙ } non-verbal starters || Accepting ;; @indomitableicequeen​ { ♙ }

            [ It was supposed to be Fuery’s day off. In fact, it was supposed to be one of his few days alone, as well, what with his dormmate working a full day’s shift at the barracks. He’d requested it a week ago, got the schedule papers signed by three separate CO’s, and had coerced Victor into helping him carry a busted up kinetoscope to their shared kitchen table ( a machine he’d been wanting to get his hands on for years ! ). An entire twenty-four hours blocked out, not to be disturbed.

                Only to be interrupted by a knock at his door.

                And of all possible guesses as to who he’d be answering to, this particular guest wouldn’t have made the list in a million years: ]

Breda chokes on his drink, dropping the glass and doubling over in an extended coughing fit. One could be forgiven for thinking he was exaggerating to buy time.

"This isn't some sort of, fucking, academic debate, Liv!" Breda ran a hand roughly through his hair. "To think it's something you can WORK THROUGH, like who does the fucking dishes--!"

This was not his first breakup; he'd learned from painful experience the less said now, the better. Breda took a deep, deliberate breath, shook his head. Chose his next words very carefully.

Breda found the unopened fifth of Drachman whiskey in his footlocker, cracked it and drank straight from the bottle till he passed out.

But Olivier, she strolled alongside him perfectly at ease. She belonged here, and she knew it.

She could have chosen to stay here, live like this every day, eating her food off golden plates. So many people joined the military because it was the only way they could get an education, feed their family... but Olivier, she didn’t need any of that. She chose the military. She chose to put her body on the line, day after day, in the unforgiving wilderness of the northern border. Because that's where her people were most vulnerable.

God, what a woman.

He laughs at her question. "It'll have to do," he said, pulling out her chair. He swung his own chair around so they would be sitting next to, rather than across from, each other.

The coffee was fantastic, of course. Probably the kind that came out of a civet's butt.