Ed walked forwards.
Adrenaline. His body almost felt like it was vibrating, torn between equally strong fight and flight instincts. The interior of the room was too big to keep completely in view; he had no way of knowing what hidden threats might be tucked away behind corners or doors. Hydrogen was right behind him, but uncomfortably out of Ed's peripheral, and it didn't help his twitchyness much.
This felt eerily similar to his first time in Father's lair. He wanted to fight, to rip the place apart with alchemy, but every bone in his beat-up body knew how bad an idea it was.
Ed's flickering attention was quickly brought to the center of the room. Particularly to the metal-clad figure that rose from a long table as he approached.
"Welcome, esteemed guest." A skeletal face with crayon red skin greeted. The hairs on Ed's neck rose. He made no response.
Skeleton face paused, expression slightly faltering as he actually looked at Ed and took in his condition.
"Hyperion," Skeleton face gritted, expression a mix between murderous and exasperated, "Your orders were to bring him here unharmed."
"WhAh?" Ed said in indignation, unable to help himself, whipping around to glare at Hyperion. "You bas-"
Hyperion huffed, not looking even slightly put off. "There were complications, Skull. But, he's here now, so i'd say it's a job well done."
"We will speak of this further at a later time." Skeleton hissed, then turned to address Ed directly. "You must excuse Hyperion's lack of precision. He tends to employ the fastest solution, a method not without it's flaws." He beckoned to Ed, gesturing to a seat at the table he stood at. "You must be hungry. Please, join me. I have been... eagerly awaiting your arrival."
Edward had met people before that 'rubbed him the wrong way', so to speak. People he disagreed with for some reason or another, or that he just didn't get along with. They were something Ed was relatively used to, given his rather low tolerance for idiots, but even then, those weren't the kind of people Ed usually mentally labeled as a serious threat.
But then there were people like this guy, that were something else entirely. People like Kimblee, like Bradley, that had something so fundamentally wrong with them that you could feel it as soon as you met their eyes. People like that were in a completely differant category; one that came with a bright red warning label.
Ed figured it would fit perfectly with this guy's complexion. Matchy matchy, and all that.
The table itself had an impressive spread, Ed noticed as he got closer. He recognized very few of the dishes, but he didn't have to to know that they were expensive.
The seat he was offered to sit at- (ordered to sit at, his mind supplied.)- was directly across from 'Skull', something that immediately banished all thoughts of potentially eating anything from his mind. He sat down slowly, watching the skeletal figure across from him closely.
He hated this. His body was screaming at him to run–to fight– but he was down an arm and in pretty terrible condition. He couldn't fight.
And the other guy knew.
The 'Skull' smiled, something deeply and fundamentally wrong, and delicately picked up a fork. "Please, help yourself. We have... much to discuss."
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