Intense psychological themes and/or interpersonal conflict.
Trisha looked up in surprise to see her guest in the open doorway, barely casting a shadow in the sunlight that streamed in around her.
Like other little girls, she wanted to be an actress, the heroine in her own perfect fairytale.
He hadn't asked Hughes to follow him to this place.
Death could come to Roy on his time. Appointment first. Lunch, maybe.
"When I walked in on you in the bath, Edward, I wasn't expecting Al to be there too."
Here, all is one, one is all, but everything is also nothing.
But it was through the hands that you cooked, and with a false hand Ed found that the cooking didn't come as easily anymore, didn't taste quite like Mother's.
"I was your mother once," Dante told him with an air of great drunken magnanimity one evening.
Very few alchemists believed in God, but all of them believed in books.
If Al hadn't known how often the older boy feigned unconsciousness in order to stave off these visits, he might have been fooled.
Here was the corner where she retreated, reloading her gun as she prepared for another kill.
Here's the game then: I'm gonna tell you what I want you to do, and you're gonna do it exactly as I say.
That day, Ed had pulled his hair out of a braid and tied it up into a neat ponytail.
What things Envy learns of his master's nature, of his future and his past alike, are those things which he has divined on his own, and nothing more.
"Did God," Scar asked softly, "mean for us to die?"
Any girl would be driven insane if she was the youngest child and the only girl in a family of six children.
Her original name had been Mary, like the mother of Jesus, and Hohenheim had found that noteworthy; something to comment on, if only in passing.
Were Riza to choose, she would be the shield rather than the sword.
“Envy,” she murmured in her brother’s ear. “I need a favor.”
There were faces more beautiful, and figures more perfect--he saw them all the time. But none had whatever it was that made him ache for her.
"Just who're you calling..." Edward's voice stuttered to a halt as he saw where the man was pointing. "...short?"
But the harsh light of early morning sharpens the hard angles of desperation on Al's face so instead Ed smiles, all teeth, and lies, "Of course."
You want to break him just once; see what he really is beneath that cool exterior.
It was beautiful, this pre-industrial world, with its white snows and ever-visible rainbows and the dazzling night sky. But it was also dreadful, seething with ignorance and man-made horrors.
"That would have killed you, you idiot! You wouldn't be destroyed, or erased, or whatever. You would be killed! I would have murdered you!"
Ed shrugged, although his expression suggested he was trying to keep from being too smug about beating a man almost twice his age.
The creature tilted its head, eyeing the two men to the side of her, and slid off its precarious perch.
He thought, for a fleeting instant, that he ought to feel some kind of guilt—but he couldn’t muster any.
For an instant, a look passed between them, and Alphonse could almost imagine that he saw his own emotions reflected within the eyes of his brother.
He’s killing his brother slowly, but he has already promised to do it quickly; what does it matter?
Of course, the jar was really the professional female companionship fund; or, as Ed liked to sarcastically call it, the pussy kitty.
He's seen quite enough of the military hospital in Central, and much as he likes the nurses, he was still glad when he thought they were through with it.
"No one shuns their duty in Xing," she said, firmly and leaving no room to brook argument, the way her elders had always passed the maxim to her.
She hated being idle; it ranked far above the petty pain of a mere gunshot-wound in her personal list of annoyances.
So, he says, and his voice cuts through the sound of battle outside in the streets. "What's it going to be?"
It was easy enough to start a fire, with the appropriate array and dry wood.
"Now, Earth-type world, yes? Spoken language identified as late pre-Galactic English."
rated:M-L | GEN | Alt Universe | TWT | First Place (popular); Second Place (juried) | Green Lion Winner | Alfons Heiderich | Edward Elric | crack | drama | fusion | introspective | 2009 Brave New Worlds, Original
"When you put it that way--" Roy conceded. "But it does seem improbable. You promised me a murderer, but are you so sure that it was no accident?"
But the language of legend and that of alchemical secrecy were linguistic-sisters...
She accepted the label and its implication without argument, lifting the revolver and sighting along its barrel.
An alchemical reaction of the most ancient kind: sitting down to eat as though filling the stomach could replace the gap in one's heart.
The last thing she remembers of him was his voice begging a stranger to keep her safe. Begging for her useless life.
And of course, he does not believe in God anyway, and scorns the idea of predestination.
It was well known around Central headquarters that Roy Mustang was lusting after the visiting Major-General.
"And search for free porn." Havoc pointed out.
Fear kept Al's metal arms at his sides, shaking slightly with each of Edward's pained moans.
There are some things that aren't to be tolerated.
High school and sexuality are hard enough to deal with, without adding high explosives to the mix.