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Entry tags:
JAILBREAK
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist, Skyrim
Character(s): Frank Archer, Zolf J. Kimbley
Pairing(s): Archer/Kimbley
Word Count: 424
Summary: Kimbley gets arrested. Again.
Notes: For Nin! Skyrim AU, but I kind of want like 500 Skyrim AUs now, I love Skyrim.
“How many times have I told you to avoid getting caught?”
“I think this is the sixth? No, seventh?”
Archer sighs loudly. “It was rhetorical.” He’s already got the key in the lock and he pulls the cell door open easily. “You need to leave before they realize you were even in here.”
“What about the guard who arrested me?” Kimbley’s already pulling his Thieves’ Guild hood over his mullet and picking himself up off the floor.
“Let’s just say he won’t be a problem anymore.” Archer shakes his head and closes the cell door behind Kimbley. “Your best bet will be going south; the road should be clear at this time of night.”
Kimbley hums a low note of appreciation, but he turns to head back toward the entrance of the keep instead of the low window he’s escaped from several times in the past. Archer follows in exasperation, complaints already forming but going ignored. Kimbley finds what he’s looking for easily - his belongings weren’t even properly sorted and stored before Archer freed him this time. They’re getting better at this.
“What were you trying to steal that was worth getting caught anyway?” Archer asks as he peers over Kimbley’s shoulder at the bag.
“Soul gems,” Kimbley flashes him a smirk. “You said you needed the Grand ones for your research, right?”
“Well,” Archer fumbles, “yes, I did. But I certainly can’t go kill any mammoths or giants--”
“No need to worry, I made sure to pick up the kind with souls already in them.” Kimbley fishes a light blue one out of the bag. The soul contained within swirls against the confines of the crystal. Archer’s eyes light up at the sight.
“I suppose I can’t be too mad at you,” He murmurs in what is probably appreciation. It’s a bit hard to tell with him, sometimes.
Kimbley loops the bag around his belt and turns back around toward the window. “I’ll meet you in the usual spot, yeah?” He asks over his shoulder as he flicks the latch open with a knife.
“After midnight,” Archer says, “once I’ve sorted this mess out. You really are lucky you’re a member of the Thieves’ Guild.”
“No,” Kimbley corrects with a wide, almost predatory grin, “I’m lucky I met you.”
He’s gone in a flash and Archer tries to ignore how his face surely matches the deep red of the Solitude guard’s uniform.
Character(s): Frank Archer, Zolf J. Kimbley
Pairing(s): Archer/Kimbley
Word Count: 424
Summary: Kimbley gets arrested. Again.
Notes: For Nin! Skyrim AU, but I kind of want like 500 Skyrim AUs now, I love Skyrim.
“How many times have I told you to avoid getting caught?”
“I think this is the sixth? No, seventh?”
Archer sighs loudly. “It was rhetorical.” He’s already got the key in the lock and he pulls the cell door open easily. “You need to leave before they realize you were even in here.”
“What about the guard who arrested me?” Kimbley’s already pulling his Thieves’ Guild hood over his mullet and picking himself up off the floor.
“Let’s just say he won’t be a problem anymore.” Archer shakes his head and closes the cell door behind Kimbley. “Your best bet will be going south; the road should be clear at this time of night.”
Kimbley hums a low note of appreciation, but he turns to head back toward the entrance of the keep instead of the low window he’s escaped from several times in the past. Archer follows in exasperation, complaints already forming but going ignored. Kimbley finds what he’s looking for easily - his belongings weren’t even properly sorted and stored before Archer freed him this time. They’re getting better at this.
“What were you trying to steal that was worth getting caught anyway?” Archer asks as he peers over Kimbley’s shoulder at the bag.
“Soul gems,” Kimbley flashes him a smirk. “You said you needed the Grand ones for your research, right?”
“Well,” Archer fumbles, “yes, I did. But I certainly can’t go kill any mammoths or giants--”
“No need to worry, I made sure to pick up the kind with souls already in them.” Kimbley fishes a light blue one out of the bag. The soul contained within swirls against the confines of the crystal. Archer’s eyes light up at the sight.
“I suppose I can’t be too mad at you,” He murmurs in what is probably appreciation. It’s a bit hard to tell with him, sometimes.
Kimbley loops the bag around his belt and turns back around toward the window. “I’ll meet you in the usual spot, yeah?” He asks over his shoulder as he flicks the latch open with a knife.
“After midnight,” Archer says, “once I’ve sorted this mess out. You really are lucky you’re a member of the Thieves’ Guild.”
“No,” Kimbley corrects with a wide, almost predatory grin, “I’m lucky I met you.”
He’s gone in a flash and Archer tries to ignore how his face surely matches the deep red of the Solitude guard’s uniform.