The Truth Within the Truth: A Fullmetal Alchemist RP

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FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST: THE TRUTH WITHIN THE TRUTH
CHAPTER ONE: THE WAR IN THE EAST

Amestris. A militaristic unitary state born into conflict, and thriving in it. Over nearly 400 years they have fought, and expanded, taking full advantage of their key advantage over other peoples: Alchemy.

Founded by the legendary Philosopher of the East, the practice of Alchemy is based upon the use and redirection of the energy created from the movements of the Earth's tectonic plates. This energy is then used by its wielders, Alchemists, to transmute various substances into new forms. This practice has become one of the defining aspects of Amestrian culture, but some see its practice as a step to close to playing God.

Among these skeptics are the Ishvalans. Born and rasied in the southeastern region of Amestris, Ishval, they worship their god of the earth, Ishvala. Taught to live simple, peaceful lives, they worshiped their god fervently, and viewed Alchemy as perversion of his divine creation; for what man could dare say they could improve on the work of God? Though this was a point of tension, their people were somewhat isolated, and lived peacefully alongside their fellow citizens. However, this peace was never meant to last. In 1901, the unthinkable occurred, and an Amestrian soldier accidentally shot an Ishvalan child under mysterious circumstances. The Ishvalans were so outraged, so furious for this offense that their riots boiled into outright rebellion. The military was called in.

For six long years, the war raged. The region was devastated, but its people were hardy, and they resisted all attempts at subjugation under the Amestrian military's heel. As casualties mounted, the President-Fuhrer of Amestris King Bradley issued Order 3066, determined to bring an end to conflict by calling in their great weapons.

State Alchemists. The dogs of the military. Though the Alchemist's motto was to serve and protect the common folk, some perceived an advantage to making themselves formal members of the military. Unlimited funding, access to hidden knowledge, and the power to reach their goals was all within their reach, so long as they were prepared to become living weapons when their Fuhrer demanded it of them. In 1907, this demand was made, and the arrival of the State Alchemists marked a turning point in the war. As the war dragged on, it stopped being called a war. Those with sense called it a massacre.


At this point in time, mid-1907, East City is only a few short dozens of miles from the front lines. In a spacious green office, eleven individuals are sitting in chairs at a round mahogany table. Back turned toward the windows, the obvious senior among them is sitting patiently. An eyepatch is slung over one eye, giving his stress-lined face a stern impression. He managed to maintain an almost serene disposition despite that, his good eye scanning the other ten members of the military as he began to speak.

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"Gentlemen, I'm glad to see you all could make it." Fuhrer Bradley began. "Being so close to home compared to the others, I'm certain you've already heard the news going out. Yesterday, I issued Order 3066. What that means is, I have ordered all State Alchemists to the front lines. I believe I'm justified when I say this conflict has gone on long enough, and enough lives have been lost that it is time to put a stop to the fighting by any means necessary. You, my friends, are some of the best Alchemists that military has at its disposal. And, of course, I cannot neglect the other two among you, a pair of our finest heroes from the fighting on the front."

Bradley stood up, and took a few steps to look out of the window. Outside, the weather was a perfect summer day. The sun shined on East City as the townsfolk hurried on their ways, oblivious to the horrors going on so close to home.

"You've all been brought here because of your talent. Your potential. You're all men and women that I can trust. At the behest of my cabinet, I'm putting together a Special Forces initiative, a team of covert operatives that can go behind the front lines, and hit those Ishvalans in tender areas. Areas my more cumbersome units can't get to. I will not lie, there will be danger. Your very lives will be at even greater risk than your fellows behind your backs. But this is a duty that is vital to the stability of our nation, and one I wouldn't trust to anyone else."

He turned around from the window, a beaming smile on his face completely opposite of his quiet expression from a moment before.

"Are there any questions?"


Corporal Victor Kendrall sank into his chair, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he realized the position he was in. He was sitting next to State Alchemists, some of the most dangerous men in all of Amestris. Even worse, the man talking to him was Fuhrer King Bradley himself! He couldn't believe it. One fluke, one lucky toss, and he was sitting next to giants! He would break down and cry if it wouldn't have given away his true nature. For the moment, if he was going to survive with his dignity he would have to keep up the image of a war hero.

But for the moment, all he could do was sit and wait. There was no way he would initiate conversation with the Fuhrer. He waited to see what his superiors had to say before speaking up.


Leo wiggled his toes inside his large and heavy army issued boots. The feeling was so alien that he had trouble walking upright. But to be sent to meet the Fuhrer, the greatest man in all of Amestris, one had to wear shoes, no matter his disposition towards the pesky little things. His left leg kept on shaking in its place, but Leo couldn't calm himself down. The Fuhrer had called him in to work directly under him. A mission risking his life in killing even more Ishavalians.

Even though the grant money was still piling up, Leo didn't know what to do with it. His simple way of life stuck to him and he hardly spent any of it, thanks to the grand library in central. Simply studying more ways he could shift the earth wasn't going to allow him to keep his title, Other techniques had to be learned. Making solid rock out of sand and vice-verse and propelling round rocks out of a straight terrain were things one could only do in a clean field, or in a battlefield, supplementing the lack of trees with ripe, squishy human bodies.

It was time for questions. But Leo didn't dare speak. The Fuhrer's tone of voice would make any sound following him puny and insignificant. Better to nod in agreement and memorize names. Better to know the people you will be working with, instead of knowing the people you are about to kill. Much, much better.

Vlad leaned lazily in his chair, but still somehow managed to look handsome and dignified while doing it. At least his posture was. As the Fuhrer spoke, Vlad looked as though he had a head ache and was taking deep breaths through his nose.

We are so close I can smell the blood of the most recent battles on the wind. This may be slightly harder than I thought.

"Are there any questions?"

Vlad blinked a few times and his expression returned to it's usual image of a suave half-smile. He leaned forward and spoke up.

"Well the obvious question would be our first target." he said. His voice was bold yet smooth, the kind of voice one suspects a panther would have.

Vlad was familiar with King Bradley, and Bradley with Vlad. The Fuhrer was the man who had put Vlad under the care of the state after the disaster that was his 10th birthday, never letting talent go to waste. He was also one of the few people who knew the secret of Vlad's condition and family history.

The handsome man eyed the other occupants of the room, taking special notice of the large man with features like a boulder, and the attractive young woman with fiery red hair. She looked like the O-positive type.

Kallu shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unused to such lavish surroundings. He was a simple man, used to the surroundings of caves and stones. Fuhrer Bradley he considered a great man, of course, any man able to climb to the position of Fuhrer of all Amestris was certainly an unusual man.

Peering out through slitted eyes around the table, he noticed other State Alchemists he had met before, the Landscaper, Ken, and the Projectilist, James, he thought his name was. He was surprised that he had been chosen with all these other Alchemists and Soldiers, it was rare that he had been trusted since he had carved and tattooed his entire body in his 20th year. They were wrong, he was more than just the Stone Alchemist, he was the Stone.

Hearing that he could now ask questions, he felt that he should ask, "So, Fuhrer Bradley, what is our first mission?" After asking his question, he turned to face the man they all called King, sure of his devotion to the man and the country he had come to call home, A stone needs a place to gather moss

James leaned back in his chair and observed the other alchemists and the two war heroes sitting around the table. He closely looked at the young, brain haired man Victor. They had all heard the story of how Victor rose through the ranks as a sole survivor of an attack on a weapons cache of the Rebels. How he had supposedly taken out the entire thing by himself. James had trouble believing it based on Victor's looks, but appearances aren't everything he thought.

James turned his attention to Marlin Frederic. He had meet Marlin a few times at the yearly elements. He had rarely said anything to Marlin other than a friendly hello and a salute. He had heard tales of Marlin's alchemey and he could regonize why he would be selected for this team. James turned to face King Bradly.

"I have the same question as they did," James pointed at the blond goatee alchemist, and the large short man. "What is the first objective and where do we go from there?"

Tasha leaned for ward on the table, her mind racing. She had her hands folded in front of her and her eyes traced the transmutation circle engraved on her hands. How often since her acceptance had she thought of questions to ask Fuhrer-King Bradley? Too many. And now, not one strayed across her mind.

Her eyes flickered across her new comrades on this 'Specials Forces' team. She would need to further study her team mates. She recognized a few of the Alchemists, but she only knew of them, but didn't know anything past that. Her eyes lingered on one, a man with a goatee leaning back in his chair. He had been watching her too. Very interesting. She thought as her eyes narrowed. I'll need to keep an eye on him.

She turned back to the Fuhrer Bradley. "No other questions from me sir. I just need to know when we're leaving and what we're after."

Roland's eyes flickered open, he had phased out during the speech. He gave himself a quick shock so he looked more alert.
He thought to himself that all this time spent talking could've been put to better use. Why bother to listen or ask questions? There was a war on, and everyone here was obligated to go.

They were all dogs of the military now, questions were ultimately pointless.

Roland lazily surveyed his new 'comrades', he knew of Marlin and his Alchemy and wondered why he was chosen, there would be little moisture for him in Ishval. He glanced around and saw a blonde haired man with a goatee, who was so obviously uncomfortable, he kept fidgeting in his seat.

"I do have a question actually", he said begrudgingly.

Might as well seem part of the team

"Should we introduce ourselves now?..., or should we go kill some Ishvalans?"

Ken looked around the room with his eyes only, sitting almost perfectly still, he recognized one of them, though he thought that some of them matched the description of alchemists he had read about. He was surprised that 3 of his comrade asked the same question surely they after hearing the first one ask that question the others could have saved their breath and just waited for the answer suddenly he heard one ask 'should we introduce ourselves now?..., or should we go kill some Ishvalans?', ken barked out 'what kind of question is that, we are here to finish this war as quickly as possibly and hopefully with as few deaths as possible'

"Well I doubt that the Fuhrer has gathered together the army's most powerful State Alchemists, and you, for a peace-keeping operation" Roland said with a hint of malice in his voice.

"I apologise for the outburst King Bradley, don't let it interrupt the procedures", he gave a fleeting glare at the ginger-bearded alchemist.

Fuhrer Bradley stood still, shoulders broad as he listened to his subordinates. Victor took notice of this. Most of his superiors in Ishval had treated their troops' input as an inconvenience at best. But the Fuhrer seemed genuinely interested in what they had to say. Nearly simultaneously, three of the Alchemists in the room requested to know their first objective. The Fuhrer stood in utter silence for a moment. His presence commanded such attention that his silence was almost terrifying.

Then, he broke out into a laugh that was so jovial and at odds with the gravity of the situation that Victor almost wished for the silence again.

"Yes, yes, I suppose there isn't much point to a Special Forces team if they don't know their own targets." he said with a chuckle. As he spoke, his good eye scanned across all of the team, but halted for a moment on Vlad. Though it was too subtle for the others to pick up on, the warning in his gaze was perfectly visible to the Vampire Alchemist. "We'll get to the briefing as soon as we run out of questions. I want to make sure there's no concerns before we put you out into the field."

"I do have a question actually," said Roland rather listlessly. "Should we introduce ourselves now?..., or should we go kill some Ishvalans?"

Within a second, Ken responded with a rather violent outburst, Roland responding in kind. Victor felt a bead of sweat on his forehead. He was not a fan of in-party conflict. After both of them calmed down a bit, Roland personally apologized to Bradley.

"There's no need to apologize," the Fuhrer told him. "just don't let these pesky squabbles get in the way of you mission. And if you ask me, I'd say it's about time someone told you what that was."

He threw a yellow folder onto the table and flipped it open, passing around a few copies of the same image: the picture was of a man, Ishvalan by his dark skin and white hair. He was old, mid-60s at the youngest, and seemed to have a slight bend in his spine that made him hunch forward. He was draped in white robes and flanked by two younger Ishvalans, extremely muscular and with faces as stern as Bradley's.

"This is Torul. He's the head of a sect of Ishvalan monks, and one of our most dangerous foes. At the start of the war, he led his men from the frontlines."

"E-excuse me, sir!" Victor said nervously. He had no idea what possessed him to speak up. "How could a monk lead a war effort, especially at that age?"

"He's no ordinary monk." Fuhrer Bradley warned his subordinates. "Ishvalan monks are trained from the moment they take up their profession to become masters of hand-to-hand combat. As one of their masters, in his prime he was one of the most agile and strong fighters in all of Amestris. However, as his age is catching up with him he's retreated to a more tactical position in the Ishvalans' chain of command. He's currently holed up in a derelict bunker about two miles behind the battle lines directly east of here."

One arm folded behind his back, he pointed the gloved finger of the other towards his soldiers.

"Your job is to break through the Ishvalan lines and get to that bunker before Torul can evacuate. Then..." Bradley's face suddenly twisted in a fierce gaze. "You shall eliminate him."

The atmosphere now dampened as the men and women present recognized their roles as assassins, no one spoke as the information seeped in. Fuhrer Bradley took a quick breath and reconstituted his serene demeanor. "Unless there are any more questions, there are three cars capable of seating four men apiece just outside that will take you to the staging area. Just follow the signs to the exit. And may I personally wish all of you the best of luck."

Ken listen to the breathing, the assasination of the important military leader will result in a great blow to the enemies moral and would be a valuable loss. Once the fuhrer was finished ken stood up straight and saluted saying firmly 'Yes Sir!'. Ken then proceeded out of the building and when he reached the cars he went into the back of first of the three cars

Leo heard his instructions, and without questioning them he awkwardly straightened up and announced, "Yes, Sir". He left the briefing room and quickly leaned against the wall, pulling off his boots as fast as he could and returning to walking bare foot. He made his way to the cars and let himself in the passenger's seat in the first car, hoping that the driver would be a nice fellow to talk with.

Kallu knew what his role was, so kept his mouth shut, opened the door to the hallway outside the briefing room, saluted Bradley on his way out and left. Seeing the three cars outside, he chose the one in the back, hoping that he would have the least people sitting with him, so that he could contemplate the silence and work as a rearguard should the Ishvalans have any hidden ambush awaiting their departure.

He was unused to the working of people, having spent most of his life outside the scope of civilization, the few conversations he'd had being with the man he had called father and companion, and his few instructors at the Academy. He was a dog of the military, a State Alchemist, and the stone was his one constant ally. He took off his bag of stones he carried with him always and began his ritual of the stones, contemplating the properties mixed into them, feeling the different grains pressed against his fingers, before beginning to squeeze the both of them. It wasn't long before he began to feel the minute cracks he caused in the stones. Without much more urging, the stone in his left hand cracking under the pressure and eventually crushed in his hand.Shale...a disappointment to be sure, though it has it's uses.The blinded gunman cannot shoot. He deposited what was left of the shale into a pouch on his belt, letting the crushed stone slip between his fingers. He never even noticed the first person that sat in the car with him.

Vlad Stood up smoothly and gave a smile to the Fuhrer along with an almost imperceptible nod.

It won't be a problem. the gesture said.

He proceeded outside and sat in the passenger seat of the second car. He rolled the window down and simply watched the clouds move. It was a nice day.

James stood up and saluted the Fuhrer. He made his way to the cars with the rest of the group. James sat in the back of the third car, checked his gun to make sure it was in working condition. He leaned back and waited for the others to fill the cars.

Marlin Frederic sat silently throughout the meeting, his jar sitting on the floor next to his chair. Being called to go to war like this was distasteful to him, but in order to continue his research it was necessary. His fellow alchemists seemed to have no such reservations though, as they were eager to get into the battle. He wasn't surprised by this of course. He was familiar with the majority of these people, whether they knew it or not, and more or less understood the basics of their personalities. The two soldiers were the only ones he'd never seen before. The older one looked experienced, but the other.... Well, Marlin felt like he would need to look out for him.

Beyond that though, the briefing failed to hold Marlin's interest and he soon found himself lost in thought and staring off into space. He was only brought back into reality when a photo was passed to him and he snapped back to attention just in time to catch the end of the Fuhrer's speech. We're to venture deep into the desert and assassinate this man are we....? I'm not cut out for this sort of thing. There's little moisture in a desert and water will be scarce. Or perhaps that's why I'm coming? To gather what little moisture I can and keep us all alive... I'll have to adjust the circle appropriately. I wonder how I can....

Marlin almost drifted off into his thoughts again, but shook himself out of it as the others began leaving. Marlin slowly stood up, grabbing his jar and slinging it over his shoulder, before saluting the Fuhrer and quietly exiting the building.

Once outside, he headed for the third car for no reason in particular. He saluted the Projecting Alchemist and the Stone Alchemist before taking his jar off his shoulder and quietly sitting down in the front passenger seat, holding the jar in his lap.

Tasha sighed. She had hoped it wouldn't come to killing anyone, but that was the price of both a war and being a state alchemist. They had to do what they were ordered to do, and there was little they could do about it if they disagreed. Tasha stood from her seat. "Yes Sir." She said with a salute to the Fuhrer. She made her way to the cars and choose the back seat of the second one.

"With any luck, the old man will be the only one we have to kill. Sad it won't work like that." She said aloud, her eyes flicking towards the man in the passenger seat.

"Projecting, nice to meet you again," Kallu nodded to him, "Or is it Lt. Col.? It has been a while either way. And you Deep Blue, it is a pleasure to meet you, your Alchemy,is... some would say...infamous in certain circles."

Vlad turned to look at the person who had entered the car and was pleased to see it was the fiery haired young woman.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met. I'm Vlad Dracule, the Vampire Alchemist. What is your name miss?" Vlad introduced himself.

Vlad spoke amicably, but he didn't pour on the charm like he would with some random admirer in a bar. This young lady was a state alchemist and that demanded respect.

Tasha raised an eyebrow at the code name. Vampire Alchemist huh? Curiouser and curiouser. "Tasha Kellum, Spark Alchemist. Forgive me for asking but why Vampire? Seems like an odd code name, if not a tad ominous." She asked leaning as far forward as the car's space would allow.

Vlad couldn't help but grin a bit whenever he was asked that question.

"It's simple actually. I specialize in Blood Alchemy, a technique which only I know. But that's not all." he said with a charmingly mischievous grin.

Vlad ran his tongue over his teeth and the glow of a transmutation was emitted from his mouth. When his tongue was out of the way he had a pair of vampiral fangs where his canines should have been.

"I know it seems like a bit much, but the intimidation factor works more often than you would expect."

"James is fine for now, Kallu. I foresee no trouble with a first name basis. Unless of course you object. Marlin how are you. It has been a while. I hope you have been well," James cleared his throat. " In other news I thing we should give each other a basic understanding of each others alchemy just so that there are little misconceptions and we can work well together. My alchemy for example deals with projectiles, hence my title. My basic form of combat is my pistol that has a part of a transmutation circle on the inside. When combined with another part of a transmutation circle contained on the cartridges, I can create numerous effects that can lead to devastating effects. Currently I am carrying a few of my standards, a phosphorus explosion cartridge, a smoke screen, one that turns the bullets longer and more sharpened when fired that allows for an increase in penetration and the final of my standards is a cartridge that splits the bullets into a group of five smaller ones that have less power but can damage more people. I am also currently carrying a special cartridge that when fired creates extra spin and a few holes in the bullet that allows it to spin faster and increase its destructive power. It can crack walls, break doors and send enemies flying.

James leaned back and stretched, "I also use my gloves to create cannons and other type of launchers out of the surrounding environment. Who is next?"

...ignore...

"Very interesting, and certainly something I'm going to want to see at some point." Tasha said smiling as Vlad transmuted his teeth. "I know the power of intimidation all too well." She said placing a hand on her sleeve. The symbols on her hand glowed as she sent a burst of electricity along the wires in her sleeve. She held it for a few seconds before letting it fade away. "Funny how few people want to deal with a person with electricity coursing along their bodies." She said with a smile.

"I find it hard to believe people wouldn't want to spend time with a woman such as yourself." Vlad said.

He gave here another smile, but now that he had the fangs it came of slightly different, more attractive in a dangerous kind of way.

"Want to know another trick of mine?" He said, slowly licking his teeth back to normal as if there was something delicious on them.

"Sure."

"I can tell your blood temperature is rising." This time the grin seemed to say less, come hither and more shall I go on?

Roland slowly rose from his seat, whilst at the same time giving the Fuhrer a salute.
He glanced over the cars, and noticed the Ginger-bearded alchemist whom he'd just had a spat with in the first car.

Best not to rock the boat too much, the mission's barely begun

He strode over to the second car, registering the two Alchemists chatting way; he sat down in the driver's seat, before turning around to face them.

" First things first, as I'm the driver, I say no flirting whatsoever. "
He glanced over the young girl.

"Now that that's sorted, my name is Roland Striker, the Lightning Alchemist. What's your name good looking?"
He smiled and gave her a wink

"James, must you again see a demonstration?" Kallu said. He took the stone still in hand and channeled a transmutation, causing it to warp,bend, and stretch around his forearm, snugly fitting and giving him better protection than the best bodyarmor allowed to officers. Transmuting again, he formed the bracer back into a stone, and put it back inside his bag, set it on his lap and leaned back in his seat, ready for the Deep Blue's explanation of his abilities. It has been a while, Lt. Col. and we're all going on an assassination mission together.Strange, but who am I to complain, except for why do they need a dozen State Alchemists and two lucky soldiers?

Elias had been sitting at the best attention he could muster during the meeting, since very few enlisted men received missions directly from the Fuhrer, but he finally moved once a good amount of the alchemists had left the room. Rising to his feet, he forced himself into a more casual stance than the position of attention and began to speak.

"Fuhrer, I understand that State Alchemists are all at or above the rank of Major, but I feel I need to ask which one's in charge? I'm sure they're all very intelligent in their own right, but on the battlefield there always needs to be a chain of command, sir."

Victor Kendrall rose to his feet, swiftly saluting the Fuhrer before scrambling out behind his fellows. Even as he walked, he felt his heart slowly rising into his throat. He'd gotten into more than a few messes in his lifetime, but this was probably the biggest by a long shot. As he stepped out the door into the fresh new day, he thought about running. He was a fast runner; the guards would probably never catch him. He looked over at the others all filing themselves away into the three cars. They weren't afraid. Why should he be?

Dejected by his own inability to desert like his senses told him to, he went up to the second car and pulled the door open, only to find that there were three people sitting inside, conversing. Damn it! he thought to himself. He was hoping there would only be a few passengers in this one. More time to sit alone and mope.

It was too late to leave now, so he awkwardly pulled himself into the backseat next to a red-haired woman. He tried to remember the callsigns he'd read on them. The Spark Alchemist, maybe? Either way, he tried to draw as little attention to himself as he could, clinging to his rifle as he pulled the door shut behind him. He glanced at the others before turning his gaze away. Making eye contact was something of a problem with Victor. Still, he made at least a token effort at an introduction.

"Um, hello. I'm Corporal Kendrall. Nice to, uh, meet all of you."


Back in the meeting room, Bradley observed Elias closely. His gaze was piercing, a bit chilling even. Still, the disarmingly affable demeanor he kept most of the time dulled those feelings.

"I understand your concerns completely, Sergeant Elias." the Fuhrer explained. "In a normal battlefield situation, State Alchemists would be the equivalent of a Major, though they would generally defer to a Major within the military. However, I believe that in a special circumstance such as this, special exceptions may be made. By rank, James Heldon, the Projecting Alchemist would be in charge of this mission. In a special forces detail such as this, however, the chain of command is going to be a bit looser than that. A respected leader is vital, but mutual teamwork between all of you will be the determining factor of your success. So, defer to Heldon for when going by the book is essential; just keep in mind that the real leader is going to be the one that the rest of you are willing to follow."

Fuhrer Bradley gave the enlisted man a pat on the shoulder, and a quick salute before dismissing him.


As Victor conversed with the others, a knock on Roland's window drew his attention. Outside stood a stocky brown-haired man with a large nose. He was wearing the standard overcoat of the military's uniform. As Roland rolled down the window, he was already talking.

"Morning, sir. My name's Lieutenant Banagher. I'm the driver of the first car in the line; if you're gonna be driving, go ahead and follow me out to the rendezvous point."

Without waiting for a response, Banagher walked forward to his car and hopped in the front seat, giving a quick wave to his passengers. "Morning, fellas. Name's Banagher, I'll be driving you out to as far as the front lines. What's your names?"

Over the course of the next few minutes, the straggler named Brandon wound up in the first car, and at the third a blonde woman in horn-rimmed glasses situated herself as their driver. She didn't speak, and seemed entirely focused on the task of transporting these soldiers. The cars all roared to life, the initial clatter of the engines shattering the somewhat tranquil atmosphere as the cars rolled off in a line, taking a street to get out of East City and toward the war.


Fuhrer Bradley watched the cars leave from his window. Once he finally lost sight of them, he walked over to his phone and quickly dialed a number. His hand was swift for his age. He waited for a few moments before someone on the other line finally picked up.

"Hello." Bradley said curtly. "...Yes, they left just a few moments ago... No, no; I think they'll suit our purposes just fine. The Ishvalans won't stand a chance... Is that what he said, then? Interesting. Go ahead and keep an eye on them for me. Inform me of anything of note."

He hung up the phone, and sat down. A hint of a smile was showing on his face.

The driver, a soldier of the army sat in his seat and introduced himself. "My name is Leo", Leo said as the driver called himself Banagher. "Where are from?", Leo asked the driver as his bare feet tapped against the rug covered floor of the car.

Guess no one's in charge, Elias thought to himself as he sat in the back of the front car, weapons and combat harness in the bag between his legs.

"Elias," he quickly interjected before Banagher could answer the question. He looked up at the driver and Leo, the blonde man riding shotgun, then turned to look out the window. Elias could feel the imbalance in the car due to his automail's weight, but the car's engine didn't seem to mind.

Tasha couldn't help but laugh at the two's advances. "I miss this sometimes. You wouldn't believe how often anyone not in the military will avoid me once they see the pocket watch chain and automail hands." She said flexing her fingers. "But to answer your question Roland, Tasha Kellum, Spark Alchemist. Nice to meet another who knows what electricity can do for the people."

"Well I'm not perturbed by either my dear, you shouldn't let others opinions define you"

He flashed her a smile that showed he understood.

" And I'm not one for etiquette, but I was not being disrespectful, your reputation precedes you Vampire Alchemist"
He gave Vlad an approving nod.

"Why thank you. I am always glad to hear my technique is appreciated. And please, both of you can call me Vlad. By the way, sometime when you aren't occupied, I'd love to see a demonstration of your abilities Roland." Vlad gave another friendly smile.

"I wonder if the other cars arte getting along this well."

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