Family
1 year later
Carmilla grunted as Martel tossed her across the room, curling her body into a tight ball as she skidded across the floor.
"Do better." the snake barked, eyes narrowed as Carmilla shakily got back to her feet, the other members of Greed's gang scattered about the make-shift training room wincing as Carmilla rushed the other woman only to be tossed over Martel's shoulder and planted harshly on her back.
"Shit!" Carmilla gasped as the wind was knocked out of her, panting on the ground as Martel gave a frustrated hiss.
"We've been over this before Mila; you need to be fluid, not stiff. You were the one who asked for this." the chimera growled, angry that student/sister who hadn't made any progress in the last three months they'd been doing this.
Carmilla flinched at the frustration at her voice, unsure what to do.
"Martel, she can't help it if she's not ready," Dolcetto called out from the sidelines, smelling the unease and slight fear coming off the younger combatant.
Even with the year that Carmilla had been with them, she still couldn't handle it when one of them was angry enough for it to show.
Hearing the reproachful tone in the sword wielder's voice, Martel looked down sharply at Carmilla, whose eyes were focused on the ground after she'd rolled over onto her stomach, shoulders tense.
"Oh shit, I'm not mad with you Mila," Martel swore, kneeling in front of her to look her in the eye, "I'm mad with myself, I can't figure out how to help you kid, and it bugs me," she assured, holding out her hand to help Carmilla up, the thirteen-year-old nodding stiffly as she took her hand.
"I know that Mar, I just...shit you'd think I'd be over this shit by now," Carmilla muttered as Bido ran over with a bottle of water.
"Pup, you'll always have issues with people being angry, there's no shame in it. Why don't you go talk with the Boss, he mentioned he might have found something you'd like to know." Dolcetto assured, ruffling her hair.
In the past year, they'd all come to adore the preteen who'd come to them and found that she flourished under their care. Already she was a much healthier weight than the 75 pounds she'd been and had mastered the basics of hand to hand.
And she absorbed knowledge like a sponge, able to recite her books in word verbatim if challenged.
"Okay Dol, maybe we'll do better tomorrow, Mar?" Carmilla questioned as she looked to her sister.
"Not tomorrow, Greed needs me to go check on a rival gang. They've been encroaching on our turf, so I'll be a few days." the snake stated, shaking her head and receiving a frown in response.
"Be careful, Mar, promise?"
"Promise, now go see what Greed wants."
"Understood."
Carmilla ran off, waving goodbye to her friends/family, and took the stairs to the bar two at a time as she rushed to Greed's office.
Knocking on the door, she entered without waiting for an answer.
"You needed me, Greed?" she questioned as she spotted Greed frowning at some papers on his desk.
"Milla, doll, good timing, this was getting boring." the sin greeted, motioning for her to approach his desk.
"What's that? Looks like the blueprints to a building," she asked, eyeing the papers, unable to read them as they were upside down.
"They are, these are the schematics to Central's military prison, where your old man is." Greed told her, frowning at the papers.
Carmilla stilled, looking at him in confusion. Why would...oh.
"You plan to break him out?"
"You need an alchemy teacher, who better than your old man?" the sin shrugged, making her sigh.
"Not even considering the fact that 1, he doesn't know about me and may not want to pass on his secrets, child or not. And 2, we don't know why he's in prison, to begin with?"
Carmilla stated with a look.
She'd heard the stories of what her father did in Ishval from Dol, how he cleared entire sections of the territory with this alchemical explosions, and how he'd apparently killed his squad and superiors without cause. He hadn't wanted to have her build false ideas about the man.
She didn't care that he killed thousands with his alchemy; he was a soldier during a time of war; it was his job. His supposed crime didn't either since they didn't know the reasons behind the slaughter,
But it did make her think about what she wanted with her alchemy. She could do the basics, but she was at the point that she required a teacher to further her skills, and the only Alchemist in the area was the butcher's wife Izumi Curtis, who refused to take her on as a student.
Not that Carmilla blamed her, Mrs. Curtis was suffering from an illness that made her throw up blood when stressed. So they'd agreed that while Mrs. Curtis couldn't, wouldn't, teach her, she'd still be a sounding board for Carmilla's alchemical theories.
It also helped that Carmilla began brewing pain-relieving and blood replenishing potions for the woman.
Why? Because Carmilla learned that the older woman had committed the taboo in an attempt to bring back her dead child and lost parts of her internal organs, her womb specifically. Carmilla respected what the mother had attempted, though it was foolish, and let her in on the fact that Carmilla was a witch from another world.
That had lead to Greed meeting the woman who warned the sin (unaware that anything she did wouldn't be permanent) that if anything happened to the child now in his care, the Alchemist would show him unimaginable pain.
This also led to the Devil's Nest getting a discount on large orders of quality meats since Carmilla took over the kitchen.
The bar had never had higher numbers in profit.
Carl, a bat chimera with pale green eyes, wasn't a bad cook, it's just that being a chimera changed his taste buds.
Carmilla loved cooking for her family, so cooking for work didn't bug her, as it was her way of taking care of her new family.
Speaking of the other chimera in her family, the ones that unlike Martel, Dolcetto, Roa, and Ulchi, couldn't pass for ordinary humans anymore, they fell in love with Carmilla for the enchanted jewelry she made for them.
Earrings that placed a glamor and Notice-Me-Not combination on the wearer so they could rejoin the public. The glamor gave them there old appearances, the Notice-Me-Not spell covering for the abnormal feel of there skin, or in Bido's case, his tail.
It was hard, as the spells had to be renewed every time the simple silver studs were worn since Carmilla didn't have the experience to cast the enchantments permanently, but well worth it.
"Yes, I know this, but right now, we need a non-military associated alchemist on the team. Who better than a prisoner who's been on death row for the last several years?"
Greed asked, raising his brow when Carmilla snorted.
"And what are we supposed to do, huh? If we break him out, then the military will report it so he can be dragged back and executed with us as collateral. So let's hold off on that front, for now, we can focus on my magic and combat skills. Mrs. Curtis,"
"You know she's told you to call her Izumi,"
"Mrs. Curtis," Carmilla continued like he hadn't interrupted her, "has said multiple times that to train in alchemy, one must have a honed body as well as mind. From what Dolcetto has said about my father's alchemy, there's probably a slight rebound from the sheer force of his explosions; I do not believe that I am ready for the strain that'd put on my body. I've observed that magic and alchemy are like a muscle in a way, do too much too soon, and you'll strain or pull it."
Greed sighed in annoyance, knowing that Carmilla was probably right.
He just hated that he could do more for the child he viewed as his daughter, he'd offered her money, gifts, anything and everything a girl could want, but she refused them all, saying that she had enough in that they were her family.
"Fine, but I'm giving it a year before we do it."
"Two"
"Milla"
"Greed, the fastest path is not always the best. Two years, all I ask."
Greed grimaced at her tone, damn her puppy eyes; he didn't even have to see them for them to work.
"Fine."
"Thank you, was this all?"
"Yes, did Martel kick your ass again?" he questioned, knowing how her spars with the snake woman usually played out.
"Yes, and she's frustrated because we've reached a block. I haven't improved in three months." Carmilla complained, rubbing her sore shoulder while Greed shrugged, "Can't help ya there, kid, being a homunculus I've never had to train."
"Yes, because you can just turn your ass shiny and avoid all damage. Ya know, I have a theory of a potential weakness you could have," she stated as she stretched, remembering that Martel told her stretching after a workout would prevent her from being too sore.
"What is it?"
"Well, what if someone is good at performing alchemy mid-combat, and they rearrange the carbon in your body while the shield is active."
"Go on," Greed pressed, she had a damn good eye for shit like this.
"The hardness of an object depends on the arrangement of the carbon atoms, right? Your shield makes your skin diamond-like because the carbon is arranged in that fashion, so what if your opponent rearranged the carbon to be as weak as possible? It's a simple transmutation if you're just going about the common understanding, deconstruction, and reconstruction route. I could do it with my limited skill, for instance."
Greed frowned, while someone having that level of skill would be rare to do it mid-combat, she did have a point.
"Right, I'll keep it in mind. The only people I'd really have to consider that a treat with is those who've seen the Truth, but I'll keep it in mind." the sin decided as he sent her on her way.
Martel felt slightly bad about lying to Carmilla, as she wasn't checking out a rival gang at all, she was to sneak into Central prison and find Kimblee.
Slipping pasted the guards was too easy, her serpentine body allowing her to move through the vents with ease, dropping into the warden's office after making sure the man was out. The office lights off, though it was no issue for her, she could easily see in the dim lighting from the hallway.
'Good, I should have about twenty minutes before the oaf returns.' she calculated, knowing from previous prevalence that the warden would leave at 9 pm for a half-hour late dinner at a local pub.
Finding the prisoner files, she quickly pulled out her target and found his cell number.
"Third floor, Block A, cell 303," she read, slipping the file back into place and jumping up into the vent, careful to close the vent cover before navigating her way up to the third floor.
Finding Kimblee's cell after that was easy, but the guards were a potential issue.
Or, they would be, if it wasn't for the fact she was armed with a fast-acting tranquilizer. It was merely a matter of aiming with a small blowpipe to deliver the poison.
Two sharp pricks and 30 seconds later, the guards were out, allowing for Martel to once again drop to the floor without a sound, take the key she'd swiped from the warden on his way out of the prison, and open the door.
Kimblee woke to the sound of his cell opening, jolting awake from battle induced light sleep, and stared at the woman who appeared before him.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, not nearly in the mood to be pleasant like he usually would, gold eyes narrowing on the blond.
"Zolf J Kimblee, right?" the woman, clearly either military or mercenary with the way she held herself, barked.
"Who's asking?" The Crimson Alchemist responded, flashing the woman his tattooed palms as he sat up, not for the first time hating the fact that they kept his hands bound in wooden shackles to keep his palms far enough apart to prevent him using alchemy.
"I'm here on behalf of someone who's rather interested in you. Two someones actually. My Boss would like to extend an offer to get you out of here, though not at this moment." The woman stated, folding her arms across her chest.
'Well, this is interesting.' the Alchemist thought as he asked, "And the other?"
"I've heard that you never forget a face, during our time in Ishval." the woman began, confirming his belief that she was military.
"You an old friend from there?" Though, he doubted it, considering he didn't recognize her.
"We never met, but I heard of you. You didn't answer my question," she grunted, her blue-green eyes annoyed.
"That's right; I don't forget a face. Why do you ask?" Kimblee questioned as he folded his legs under him, he highly doubted she was there to kill him at this point.
"Fourteen years ago, did you meet a red-head with green eyes, named Lily Evans." Martel inquired, watching the Alchemist carefully.
She would have missed the recognition flitting across his face if she hadn't.
"What's this about? You're oddly specific,"
"So you did,"
"I never said that,"
"But you do remember her; it was on your face," Martel smirked, making the man growl.
"Yes, I knew her, and I still remember her. We had a fun night of drinks and great sex. What does it matter? She can't be asking about little old me after what we did in Ishval, let alone the fact that we agreed it was a one night stand." Kimblee grunted out in frustration, fingers twitching in the desire to choke the infuriating woman before him.
"She isn't, but her daughter, your daughter, is."
Kimblee's mind froze, eyes widening in shock, staring at the woman who pulled out two letters from her cargo pants.
"These are the letters left to my friend, Carmilla, from her mother and step-father, telling her about you. And they knew Carmilla is yours because her step-father was sterile." Martel told the man, handing over the copies of the letters, the originals kept on Carmilla's person at all times.
Kimblee took the letters, the top one being Lily's, and read through them quickly while Martel waited, this was the purpose of her visit after all.
To inform Kimblee that his daughter existed, and see how he'd take the information.
For his part, he didn't seem disbelieving of the multiple worlds exist part, after having used a Philosopher's Stone himself, it didn't surprise him.
He was an Alchemist; by that definition, he sought the Truth of all things, even if he was more focused on furthering his explosion alchemy.
It was a shame that Lily was dead, she'd been one of the most interesting women he'd ever met, intelligent and beautiful in equal spades.
And he respected James for not only accepting a child that was his but dying for his family.
He'd always held a deep respect for those willing to die for their convictions, one of the reasons he'd killed his squad.
Looking up from the letters to the woman who still hadn't given him her name, he asked, "You know Carmilla well; I take it?"
"I wouldn't say I know everything about her, but in the year I've known her, I've come to care for her. She's a good kid, quick as a whip with a bit of a temper, but loyal to those she sees as hers. She says that she doesn't give a damn either way if you accept her or not, but it's obvious that she wants a family that loves her. She hasn't had the best life, and we've tried to fill that void, but we can only do so much hence why my Boss wants to break you out of here. Milla's made him promise not too for another two years, mostly like wants to find a teacher for herself instead of trying to force you. But we'd planned to let you know she exists for a few months now."
The woman informed him, her eyes promising pain if he hurt her.
Not that he would, Kimblee had never seen himself as a father, but he would be damned if he rejected his own child.
"Tell your Boss I'm interested, as for an alchemical teacher, you might want to look into the Freezing Alchemist, Isaac McDougal. He retired from what I heard after Ishval." Kimblee offered, shrugging off the woman's surprised look.
"You're going to accept this, just like that?" she questioned, curiosity coloring her tone.
"Yep, I knew Lilly was engaged; it was the reason we agreed it was a one night stand. You also have no reason to lie to me, even if you just wanted to get me to work for you. You'd then have to find a child to play the part, and that would be pointless when you could have just broken me out. I would have been indebted to you, and I repay my debts. You've got about ten to fifteen minutes before the next shift in the guard, so you better get going. I just have one question before you go, does my daughter know you're here? And again, you never said your name."
"Name's Martel," the woman said, turning to the door, "and no, she doesn't. This is us looking out for our own. I'll tell the Boss about McDougal." she stated as she left, locking the door behind her.
Kimblee laid back down, closing his eyes.
"Who'd think I'd be a father, the world has some serious irony," he muttered, wondering what Carmilla looked like, did she take after him, or her mother?