The street's dirt path crosses a wider, more well packed road, and a he sees robed people milling about with worried faces. He startles at what sounds like a roll of thunder, and its followed by a rhythmic pounding. As he reaches the intersection, he glances at the few figures squatting behind large barrels off to the side. Their arms swing with grand gestures before they strike the skins stretched over the tops with stout sticks.
Above him, dozens of fragile lanterns dangle from wires that stretch across the expanse of the intersection, and the warm glow they shelter within is a stark contrast to the darkening sky.
"A festival..?" He says, barely able to hear his own voice. A head with four blond pony tails seems to part the crowd. The drums cease, and in the hushed silence, the imperious voice of Riza Hawkeye rings out with weighty authority.
Only he doesn't understand a thing she says. And he thinks, damn. She's good at this.
Whatever she says, the crowd certainly likes it.
The drums roll again, and cheering couples move together in another pattern altogether.
Couples. He thinks. And. Dancing. He feels his cheeks heat up. That's one way to have a private conversation in a crowd, and I won't likely break her cover that way.
He takes the opportunity for what it offers, and slips along, circulating about the edges of the mass of people and ambling towards the lieutenant.
He hopes he will not get shot for what he's about to do. He creeps closer, and closer, shadowing her steps within the press of bodies. The drums thump as louds as his heart as he reaches out. He taps the tips of his left fingers against her shoulder as he stretches to his toes.
"Hawkeye, can you tell me what the hell is going on..?!?" He angrily hisses in a whisper by her ear. Without hesitation, she turns a glare at him. Ed tilts his head at her narrowed eyes.
Her irises are green, not red. He frowns. She doesn't have laugh lines, in fact, as her face is fresh almost like she is near his age, which doesn't make much sense. This woman could be Riza's twin. A much. Younger. Twin.
He breathes in a tentative breath. This close, she does smell sort of...good. Instead of, say, like something rotting, like a homoculi would.
He swallows and feels his cheeks flush. This is a mistake. He eyes the metal plate bolted to the headband that she has across her brow. A big mistake.
"Fuck. You. Really don't know me..?" He mutters, the sounds lost in the cacophony of the crowd.
Ed shakes his head from side to side at the woman and backs up a few steps in case he has to move quickly. He bumps against someone's back, and grits his teeth. The bridge of his nose burns with his cheeks.
He stops and swallows down half hearted apologies when he sees Not!Riza confused and angry face. He darts his eyes down, then raises them again.
There is a scattering of Gate-born knowledge, he knows, buzzing somewhere in the depths of his mind, but he may as well try to grasp the fog for something useful for all the good it would do. He scrubs his mind, trying for what language he knows for the right words. Precision matters greatly to him as a scientist.
He wasn't exactly treated all that well, and language lessons certainly were not offered to him. He vaguely recalls a fellow slave did help him up from the ground one time, or other slaves speaking something like this whenever he winced at their gentle ministrations of his open wounds.
"Goomen. Naaas. Aye." He hopes the sounds make up an apology, for there isn't much more he can offer. Her face begins to shift, and Ed then turns away.
Or rather, meant to turn away.
Not!Riza grabs hold of his elbow from behind, and he jerks his arm from her hand in a frenzied reaction to the awful feeling of being bound. His eyes widen as he shoots his best glare her way.
His stomach chooses that moment to roar to life, resuming its nearly painful gnawing of his spine. He presses his right to his middle and mentally swears colorfully in the seven languages he does know.
She threads her arm though the crook of his elbow. He gazes at her surprised face, and watches her lips stretch into a fake smile.
"Domo." She says. He has time to raise his brows before she nearly drags him along down the street.
Sent via a stray supercharged nano particle of unobtainium....
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