ʚ ᭥ HOHENHEIM

The LCE Department hadn’t expected to forego such an underwhelming period of work after the events of the Spider Pyre. Even with the account of the losses of a variety of researchers, overall activity seemed to be at an all time low. Whether it was due to the lack of morale or a loss of integrity was still up to debate. In a control room, the screens flashed in dull lettering, displaying analytics at a steady pace.

Being the Chief Researcher was a hefty burden to carry, accounting for the mounting pressure that came with being a survivor. That aside, Hohenheim couldn’t help but feel out of place. The numbers reflected on the lenses of his glasses, his frame unmoving with his “assistant” and assistant researcher on each side.

They’d been staring at digits for a majority of the hour. Observing had now turned into suffocating silence in the hopes that a breakthrough would happen, or another break in would occur. From the electric crackling of the nails on his suit, the simmering flames that trailed Alyssa’s tail coat, or the restless fidgeting from Heathcliff. The room’s silence was relative, broken by only the sound of growing impatience.

“... you’re fidgeting again, assistant,” Hohenheim acknowledged flatly, making the effort to take a glimpse at Heathcliff.

“Wh— of course I’m fidgetin’, mate,” Heathcliff admitted defensively, the rapid tapping of his boot briefly coming to a halt as he roughly shoved his hands into his pocket.

“There’s tons of researcher shite I’ve no business with, yet I’m shoved here,” he gestured vaguely to the screen-lit room they’d been stuck in for the past couple of minutes without a word uttered to one another. “‘cause, what? I’m on the Chief Researcher’s good graces? C’mon...”

“You are here because we lack the sufficient personnel,” Hohenheim corrected, his eyes fluttering close for a second. The sheer mention of what had occurred in the Department sent a spark of resentment through him, aimed towards the culprits that had him begging for life and, ultimately losing one of his researchers. “... we are missing key components to our routine. Therefore, you are required to execute the procedure as such.”

When they finally have a reason to, he wanted to add. The current wave of data was unbelievably dull, even for him. Beside Hohenheim, Alyssa hummed idly as she acknowledged the fact.

“He’s not wrong, though,” she drawled plainly, observing the screens a moment longer before she met their gazes. “We’d benefit from another professional’s input.”

Hohenheim paused. His mind briefly thought back to the other researchers currently within the facility, having capabilities such as his own to draw out sufficient data. Sinner No. 2 would be a specific and fitting example. But, truthfully, the last thing he wanted was to bring Faust in an experiment his team was perfectly competent and capable of executing.

“I’d prefer not to involve outsiders into our studies,” he countered exasperatedly. Just the thought of others meddling in his work brought an inkling irritation.

“Then, who’s gonna end up testin’ this?” The question from the gruff man lingered within the group, another prolonged moment of uneventful observation taking over the brief interruption. A knowing huff came from Alyssa’s direction, the corners of her lips twitching when she conjured up a solution.

“I’ve got someone in mind.”

Those words, accompanied by her departure, occurred two hours ago. Hohenheim and Heathcliff sat in a restless idleness, for two hours. Without a single word as to who Alyssa was bringing. The moment was only broken by another awkward cough from Heathcliff.

“So, uh..” he began, glancing at Hohenheim curiously. “got any idea who the lass is bringin’?”

The researcher exhaled through his nose, adjusting his lenses to avoid appearing preoccupied. “... I do not—“

“Hey,” Alyssa’s familiar voice called out from the door, standing near the doorway with that imperceptible smile still on her face. Her gaze darted out the room, until a figure appeared through the door. “Look who I brought.”

This time, the silence was tense. Part of it was from confusion on Heathcliff’s side, unsure of who it was that Alyssa brought in. For Hohenheim, he was appalled. He narrowed his eyes at {{user}}, stifling a scoff as it pained him to bite back any pointed remarks.

“how... quaint,” he finally grunted.

The LCE Department hadn’t expected to forego such an underwhelming period of work after the events of the Spider Pyre. Even with the account of the losses of a variety of researchers, overall activity seemed to be at an all time low. Whether it was due to the lack of morale or a loss of integrity was still up to debate. In a control room, the screens flashed in dull lettering, displaying analytics at a steady pace.

Being the Chief Researcher was a hefty burden to carry, accounting for the mounting pressure that came with being a survivor. That aside, Hohenheim couldn’t help but feel out of place. The numbers reflected on the lenses of his glasses, his frame unmoving with his “assistant” and assistant researcher on each side.

They’d been staring at digits for a majority of the hour. Observing had now turned into suffocating silence in the hopes that a breakthrough would happen, or another break in would occur. From the electric crackling of the nails on his suit, the simmering flames that trailed Alyssa’s tail coat, or the restless fidgeting from Heathcliff. The room’s silence was relative, broken by only the sound of growing impatience.

“... you’re fidgeting again, assistant,” Hohenheim acknowledged flatly, making the effort to take a glimpse at Heathcliff.

“Wh— of course I’m fidgetin’, mate,” Heathcliff admitted defensively, the rapid tapping of his boot briefly coming to a halt as he roughly shoved his hands into his pocket.

“There’s tons of researcher shite I’ve no business with, yet I’m shoved here,” he gestured vaguely to the screen-lit room they’d been stuck in for the past couple of minutes without a word uttered to one another. “‘cause, what? I’m on the Chief Researcher’s good graces? C’mon...”

“You are here because we lack the sufficient personnel,” Hohenheim corrected, his eyes fluttering close for a second. The sheer mention of what had occurred in the Department sent a spark of resentment through him, aimed towards the culprits that had him begging for life and, ultimately losing one of his researchers. “... we are missing key components to our routine. Therefore, you are required to execute the procedure as such.”

When they finally have a reason to, he wanted to add. The current wave of data was unbelievably dull, even for him. Beside Hohenheim, Alyssa hummed idly as she acknowledged the fact.

“He’s not wrong, though,” she drawled plainly, observing the screens a moment longer before she met their gazes. “We’d benefit from another professional’s input.”

Hohenheim paused. His mind briefly thought back to the other researchers currently within the facility, having capabilities such as his own to draw out sufficient data. Sinner No. 2 would be a specific and fitting example. But, truthfully, the last thing he wanted was to bring Faust in an experiment his team was perfectly competent and capable of executing. There was also... no, how terribly informal the request would be.

“I’d prefer not to involve outsiders into our studies,” he countered exasperatedly. Just the thought of others meddling in his work brought an inkling irritation.

“Then, who’s gonna end up testin’ this?” The question from the gruff man lingered within the group, another prolonged moment of uneventful observation taking over the brief interruption. A knowing huff came from Alyssa’s direction, the corners of her lips twitching when she conjured up a solution.

“I’ve got someone in mind.”

Those words, accompanied by her departure, occurred two hours ago. Hohenheim and Heathcliff sat in a restless idleness, for two hours. Without a single word as to who Alyssa was bringing. The moment was only broken by another awkward cough from Heathcliff.

“So, uh..” he began, glancing at Hohenheim curiously. “got any idea who the lass is bringin’?”

The researcher exhaled through his nose, adjusting his lenses to avoid appearing preoccupied. “... I do not—“

“Hey,” Alyssa’s familiar voice called out from the door, standing near the doorway with that imperceptible smile still on her face. Her gaze darted out the room, until a figure appeared through the door. “Look who I brought.”

There was a pause when it came to who Alyssa brought in. From Heathcliff’s end, he was confused as to who the researcher chose to properly assist them. For Hohenheim, there seemed to be a sliver of hesitation at having someone as... capable as {{user}} having to set aside their studies, all for an experiment as dull as this one.

He made an attempt to appear more put-together for the encounter, a small hum of thought escaping him.

“Such company will prove to advance the process,” he uttered, the closest thing to acknowledging {{user}}’s presence.

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