Post by Roza Renaldi. on Aug 2, 2008 23:43:13 GMT
Username: Roza.
How You Heard About Us: I recieved a Neomail from crazy_is_normal.
Previous Roleplaying Experience: I've had two years under training with my mentors, and five years total experience.
Roleplay Example:
How You Heard About Us: I recieved a Neomail from crazy_is_normal.
Previous Roleplaying Experience: I've had two years under training with my mentors, and five years total experience.
Roleplay Example:
Cold. It was cold as the rain poured down from the sky like bullets from a gun - heavy, fast, constant. It was like an icy hell was raining down on them from the skies, and to describe it like that would make it seem a bit disturbing. Disturbing was right. It was at this time that the imfamous Roy Mustang - Flame Alchemist colonel of the Ishbal War - sat at his desk, nearly deciding to throw his head onto the hard, sleek wooden surface. That, however, would be stupid. And that was one thing Roy Mustang wasn't. Stupid.
Before him were piles of paper, stacks upon stacks of ink and typewriting at its best. It surrounded him, engulfed his desk. No matter how many times he went through the stack and initialed here, scribbled his Hancock there, it seemed to multiply, only further drowning him in responsibility. If it didn't endanger his job, he would simply rid of it all; A simple snap of the fingers would do the trick in an instant. His mind tempted him to take that action, blow the pesky stuff to smitherines. If endangering his job didn't endanger his lovelife, he might have just given in to temptation. For now, the paperwork had won the fight.
"Colonel Mustang, sir."
Roy's dark eyes tore away from one of the letters he was signing and settled onto the face of none other than Lieutenant Havoc. His blonde hair was messy as usual, blue eyes returning the Mustang's gaze and matching the uniform he wore. Then, there was that signature cigarette hanging from his lips carelessly. Is that the same one he was smoking last week? the colonel would have thought, had his mind not been on more important matters at the time. His comrade was still saluting him, making Roy realize that something more urgent than usual was going on. He stood, placing his usually gloved hand on his forehead to return the gesture of respect to the newcomer, and sat once more.
"What is it, Havoc?" he said, sounding nonchalant as always. "I've got a load of work to do."
Havoc grinned, raising his arm and scratching the back of his neck with his hand. "I've got my share of work to do, too, Roy," he replied, and the alchemist shot him a suspicious look.
So it wasn't something urgent.
He rested his head on the arms crossed behind his neck and leaned back in his chair, soon propping his feet upon the desk, carelessly placing his shoes on the paperwork that had taken up so much of his time. Finally, he'd found something to distract him from his work, and there was no way he was going to let it pass by him without taking advantage of it. It would be inhumane to simply waste it, wouldn't it? Whether anyone else agreed or not, this was how the colonel thought, and he wasn't easily persuaded into thinking differently, especially when it came to his career, no matter how much it got on his nervest eighty percent of the time.
"Well, then," Mustang said, sighing slightly as he stretched, "what is it you came to speak about?"
"Women."
Roy's eyes shot open. Women? He'd come here to talk to him - a higher ranking officer - about women? Absurd as it was, the Flame Alchemist was immediately interested in the conversation that was to follow. Anything that had to do with women was something that Mustang wanted to hear about, and the chance was just before him.
"Having more girlfriend trouble, then?" Roy chuckled in his deep tone. If one were to recall his comrade's problems with women, they would see that he'd had his heart broken multiple times in the span of two days, one of the times due to his own commanding officer dating the woman he'd been dating as well. How could something so beautiful do him wrong so effortlessly? Then, just after that, he found - well, was forced to see - a girl who was single. She just so happened to be Louis Armstrong's little sister, who, unlike her bulky elder brother, happened to be petite and perfect in almost every way imaginable. Well, that is, until he was tragically turned down for not being muscular enough for her taste. It was like being stabbed in all the wrong places.
That is why the blonde lieutenant didn't take the colonel's joke so lightly, experiencing that sinking feeling once again. He shook himself out of it, however, and managed to recover his train of thought. "No, sir," he said with forced cheerfulness behind the sarcasm. "It's exactly the opposite - I found this amazing girl who wants to go out with me tonight." He paused, glancing down before continuing once more. She asked me yesterday if it was alright and I said yes and -"
"And you want to know if you can get off early to get ready, right?" This was Mustang who interrupted him. "Fine, go ahead - I'll just finish this paperwork and excuse you."
"Well, it's not like I could help you with that stuff," Havoc replied in a low, quiet voice.
"I'm sorry, Havoc, but I simply don't see how it's fair that you're able to get off work and go on a date all on the same day while I'm sitting here with all this crap to do!"
By this time, Havoc was back at the door, looking over his shoulder at Mustang, a smile on his face as a response to the colonel's little rant. "Roy," he scoffed, "you do the same thing to us nearly every day. I think you'll survive one day in our shoes."
The Alchemist brows were still tensed, but no longer furrowed. Sighing, he relaxed, leaning back in his chair once more. "Alright, go ahead, but you owe me dinner, now."
Havoc only laughed as he waved his hand, striding out the door and closing it behind him.
-x-x-x-
Half an hour had passed, and Roy was now fast asleep, head lying comfortably on folded arms lying on top of the paperwork that had tormented, (or bored), him into the depths of dream for the second time that day. He mumbled something below his breath - most likely something that needn't be heard by all audiences - and burried his face into his sleeve. Had anyone been alone, he'd be awake and alert. Now, however, he was alone with only the pitter-patter of the rain, which hadn't stopped in hours, as it pounded the roof high above him.
Suddenly, the loud crash of lighting awoke him as it strutted its endless might and authority in the sky. Roy's head shot up as soon as it had sounded, the roll of thunder soon following after his action. The wildness of his eyes settled as he realized it was only the storming weather outside, and he quickly regained his composure. That, however, was when the telephone rang. Looking toward the noisy device, Mustang sighed, reaching our and taking it into his grasp with long, graceful fingers, though calloused to the touch.
"Colonel Mustang," he said, bringing up his free hand to sooth his aching head.
"Colonel Mustang, sir," the mechanical voice repeated. It was the sound of the secretary's voice through the lines, and he shrugged his shoulders. God, he hoped it wasn't some important mission that needed him at the very moment. "There's severe weather outside - we've been advised to stay indoors."
Roy restrained a powerful groan of annoyance, forcing himself to stay professional - or at least composed - for the moment. "All right," he said, pausing a moment before continuing. "Thank you very much." The person at the other end of the line responded with a usual 'yes, sir' and hung up. He copied their action as well, slamming the phone onto the hook, seeing as no one else would hear it.
Well, this officially sucked. Worst of all, there was nothing the all-powerful Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist of the Ishbal War, could do about it.
Exactly the kind of enthusiastic fresh blood we're wanting 
