bakerstreet | Fell asleep on.

[Al had been researching in one of the little lesser known libraries of Amestris. Ed had heard a rumour that there were bio-alchemy text books there that alluded to a way to restore flesh, they hoped to use it as a building block to potentially restore their bodies.

Ed has already gone to sleep long before now, curled up in a corner of the library with his coat as a blanket and a stack of books for a pillow. But Al, incapable of sleeping, has gone on researching.

It's only when he emerges from this book that he realises he is no longer alone. There's another man there, a stranger to him, and said man is resting with his cheek on Al's shoulder fast asleep.]

Um...

[WHAT SHOULD HE DO?]

Excuse me? Uh, hello?

[It's been a long day. Flynn's been in and out of various libraries and museums hunting down two lost artifacts at once and even he has his limits. So once he's done a quick scout around the latest potential site, he figures he can take forty winks or so and not feel bad about that.

The suit of armour positioned at the table, aligned by some jokester to make it look like it's reading, makes him smile, weary as he is. He hops up onto the bench beside it, puts his feet up along the seats and crosses them at the ankles, folds his arms, and is done.

Up until a voice wakes him.

He blinks, straightens a little, rubbing his eyes, and looks around. There's no one there. That wakes him up all the way. He scrambles upright in excitement.]

Invisible? Intangible? Tiny? Hello? Who was that?

[He peers under the table to try and find them.]

[He jerks when he suddenly manages to wake this man, and he goes from asleep to hyperactive in about three seconds.]

Oh. Actually-- it's me, I said that.

[He points to himself helpfully, the smile evident in his voice even if his helmet is incapable of changing expressions.]

I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. It's just-- you were asleep on me, and I need to put this book back.

[Flynn's eyes go wide. Since Al is seated, he isn't far off eye-level, and the glow in those eye sockets is unexpected. He bobs in place a little, mentally measuring the suit up and down and - he leans over the bench a little - around. That voice echoes far too cleanly from within.]

I'm, ah, sorry about that.

[He remembers himself enough for the apology, but his embarrassment at sleeping on someone without permission is tiny and fleeting, trampled by eager curiosity.]

Why are you in armour in a library? That seems uncomfortable. Honestly I'm surprised they didn't make you leave it at the door. Must be hard to keep the noise down, too.

[He backs up just a little when Flynn peers at him so closely, choosing to get to his feet in order to put his considerable height to good use for once.]

I always wear it.

[He chuckles with the worst nervous sort of laughter possible, flapping his hands in faux nonchalance.]

It's just part of my training as an alchemist and, uh, this is a library that a lot of alchemists patronise, so they're very understanding about things like that.

Alchemists?

[Best. Day. Ever.]

Like, real, actual alchemy? How does that work? You say lots of people can do it? What do you use as a focus? I mean, we've got Magnus's philosopher's stone in the archives, but that's locked up tight for good reason and I'd heard there might be others out there but never come across anyone who could use it. Is it lead to gold? Or full on elixir? How far have you all got?

[He knows there are people in small villages who still think alchemists are myth, but even they usually know better than to ask about elixirs of life and making gold.]

No, I'm not that kind of an alchemist. It's actually forbidden to make gold, and--

[WAIT! WAAAAIT. He cuts himself off suddenly, brain catching up with what he just heard.]

You have a philosopher's stone? Where did you get it? Who's Magnus?

[Is someone else sacrificing people now? Because that is NOT OKAY.]

[He's a little taken aback at the sudden intensity.]

Albertus Magnus, scientist from the thirteenth century. He discovered it. It's been handed down through a secret sect for several centuries. And then I... intercepted it. Cost a fortune acquiring it for the Library. It's safe, though. Very secure. What's the matter?

[Albertus Magnus isn't a name he recognises, and he should. He has read books by and about every prolific alchemist that has ever practised, especially ones from so long ago when the science of alchemy was so young and untested. How can he not have heard of someone so connected with a philosopher's stone?]

You mean you didn't make it?

[Just... making sure.]

I can't believe you found one that's that old, that shouldn't be possible. And you're keeping it in a library? Which library?

The Library.

[As if that should explain everything. Obviously.]

Definitely didn't make it. Wouldn't know where to begin. Is that what you're researching?

Mm.

[He's still wary, floored by the discovery of another philosopher's stone, but he's trying to get himself back in check. He's already given away too much, he needs to approach this more calmly.]

My brother and I are alchemists, it's definitely a major point of our research. Do you think-- do you think I could see it?

[One step at a time.]

[Flynn cocks his head, eyes darting as he considers the possibilities.]

Technically it's supposed to be off limits, but if you're an alchemist then you already know magic is real and I don't suppose there's much harm to be done. For a comrade in the pursuit of knowledge I might be able to make an exception, I guess.

[His gaze snaps back into focus, sharp on Al's.]

Fair trade hurts nobody, after all. I'd certainly love to learn more about the alchemy you practice here.

[Magic? What is this guy talking about? Magic isn't real, everyone knows that. Alchemy is totally normal science, obviously.

Still, if it gets him closer to that philosopher's stone, then it's a no-brainer to play along with it for a while. It's not like he's got a problem talking incessantly about alchemy to people anyway.]

Sure, that sounds fair. I'd be glad to teach you about alchemy in exchange for seeing that stone. It's-- if it's a real philosopher's stone then it might help me with something I've been researching.

[That and he'll want to confiscate it.]

Can we go now?

[Flynn draws breath to say yes, and remembers what he came there for.]

Ah. I'm actually looking for something else right now. Kinda can't go without it. I think it's a wooden baton, about... oh, yea big [his hands, flickering with gestures already, pause about a foot apart for a moment] and probably carved with intricate and slightly dizzying patterns. If I'm right. Which I usually am.

[He gives Al a modest smile.]

I don't remember seeing anything like that in here, are you sure this is the right place? This is a military library, there's not much here but books and more books.

[He does rise to his feet finally (and thus his entire eight foot height), though, in order to help look.]

Does it belong to you?

Technically it belongs to the last Tsar of Russia, but considering how much of a mess that line of succession is now, and what it's capable of in the wrong hands, I think it's better for everyone if it stays lost. Well. Lost in a safe place. Securely lost. So I need to find it.

[That makes perfect sense, right? He looks Al up and down, impressed but not remotely fazed, and shrugs.]

It's probably nearby. Will have been around for a few years. There might be something written about it here. Always worth checking.

I think you might have the wrong place.

[In fact, he's pretty certain that this strange man has the wrong place.]

I've never even heard of Russia, so I don't think something belonging to their, uh, Tsar would be here. Is it a city in Drachma? The name sounds like one of theirs.

Drachma? Really? That's currency, not a place, and old currency at that, and... you're a hundred per cent serious, aren't you? Well. This one really has gone a long way from home.

[He grins up at Al, still totally confident.]

That'll make finding it even more fun.

Okay, if you're sure.

[He pauses a moment to turn to where his bulk had almost completely obscured another sleeping figure. This one much smaller and with blond hair in a plait. He tugs a red coat up and over Ed's shoulders to cover him more completely.]

Brother needs to get some more sleep, but I can help you look. Do you have any idea where in the building it might be?

I do... not.

[Flynn manages to keep his confident grin in place despite that, digging in one pocket and producing, with a flourish, a little scroll.]

This, however, does.

[He flicks it open, and it immediately rolls back up. Without missing a beat, expression a masterclass of I meant to do that he reaches over and opens it with both hands this time. The writing is upside down.]

See? Clues.

[Despite the gravity of the situation that may well be awaiting them when they return to wherever Flynn has this philosopher's stone, Al can't help but chuckle.

He seems so... harmless. And a little bit inept.]

R-Right, clues.

[He leans in to get a better look, but the language isn't one he recognises.]

Um, can you read it? That's not Amestrian or Xingese.

Hm?

[Flynn turns the scroll so he can look at it, inadvertently turning it the right way up in the process and thus never noticing his mistake.]

Well, it's Russian, of course. As far as we can tell everything was split up and smuggled out by individuals at the time so no one person would have access to everything. They wrote clues and made maps for each other so that things were hidden but not lost, but they were never supposed to see the light of day and this is not answering your question, is it?

[He clears his throat and fusses with the scroll a little, then reads aloud.]

The sceptre of the wind, concealed in a house of knowledge - I've been working my way through all the museums and libraries around here, I've got two left on my list but the other one's more of an art gallery than anything else so it's a lot less likely than this place - bound out of reach, in its element.

[He grins up at Al.]

Sounds like fun, right?

Fell asleep on.

Flynn Carsen | The Librarians | OTA

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