"I just wanna know." Kimblee insisted, casually lying on the sand behind enemy lines a though he hadn't a care in the world.

"well I don't want to talk about it." Roy sniped bitterly.

"if there's something wrong with your array-"
"there's nothing wrong with my array!"

"you're in pain after every mission, somethings obviously wrong with you."
"no, Kimblee, it isn't me. Somethings wrong with you!"
"really?" Kimblee sat up, alerted to an enemy quietly approaching. Must be out of ammunition, he figured. The fool must be desperate, to sneak up on us with just a tiny knife. He didn't let on that he noticed.

"how so?"

"you laugh out loud while you kill people! Don't you feel anything for the lives you've wasted?"
"No..." Kimblee thought about the question carefully. "should I?"
"YES!" Roy shouted in frustration. The sneak took the opportunity to attack. In an instant, Kimblee's long arms reached past Roy and pushed the attacker back. The explosion he made was perfect, elements crashing together in his precision control to create a blindingly beautiful explosion.

Roy looked behind him,
"that's just sick!" He shouted in disgust. Kimblee was confused. Until he'd joined in the war, he'd only ever received praise for his alchemy. His current contemporaries, however, looked upon his handiwork negatively. what am I doing wrong? He wondered. In the lab he grew up in, his caretakers encouraged him to be creative in his use of alchemy. All his life he'd been encouraged to find better ways to kill efficiently with his arrays.

"I just don't get it, how is that sick?" Kimblee confronted his most emphatic nay-sayer.

"You just killed a little girl, in cold blood! And you're telling me you don't get it?" He asked incredulously. Kimblee thought about what he might be doing wrong,

"... would it have been better if it was an adult?" He ventured, mumbling calculations on the difference in mass and sulphur content.

"You honestly don't feel anything, no guilt, no sorrow." Roy realised.

"Well," Kimblee defended, "I do feel proud of my skill, and I'm frustrated that none of the other alchemists want to work with me..." Then, he had an epiphany,

"So... If I act guilty and sorrowful, the other soldiers will talk to me, and not avoid me whenever they have an excuse?"

Roy just about choked on his own breath. After blowing apart a little girl, the emotionless Red Lotus Alchemist - The MAD BOMBER! had inadvertently confessed his desire to be popular. Oh, God, Roy tried not to laugh. Maes will never believe this one!