Comedy, slapstick, and (sometimes) bad puns.
"I'm going to plant a few solid pounds of Risembool milled steel right in her catty, smirking face is what I'm going to do!"
The audience fades away; the chatters dies, their twin breaths are the soft herald of thunder to come.
...Edward saw red - but he took a couple of deep breaths before answering. He knew a real kicker now, thanks to Hawkeye.
"You know it's a good thing I heal almost immediately, because otherwise I'd be so sore, I'd never get anywhere in the story."
"Do we still have cucumbers? Or I guess I could transmute a mold, do you need this dining chair?"
You don't want to see spicy photos of my gorgeous girlfriend?
Smug, he'd stayed just long enough to give his report and then had marched straight off to Resembool with Al lagging behind.
The only other tradition that was better than eggnog to Al, was that of mistletoe.
He lay back on the couch (in Roy Mustang's office, where else?) and declared , "I'm not wearing this."
"Fuhrer my ass," Edward said. "He's still nothing but a perverted old man."
The Colonel's staff next door ignored the pleas for help and gunshots.
Edward Elric was notoriously known for his intense dislike of milk.
Al decided he didn't like that particular grin on his brother's face.
This was getting crazy. He knew that his college years ran equivalent with his sexual peak, but honestly?
Envy had to admit, Edward Elric's body was convenient for maneuvering around the people in a crowd.
They would have had a bitter bitchfight had both suddenly not stopped and realized it was all Roy's fault.
“Um, you must’ve learned that from Colonel Bastard. You’d better not be flashing that at the nurses. Or at me, ever, ever again.”
"For only one arm..." Ed rasped out, gritting his teeth against the pain.
"But he's just a kid... he's too short to be a criminal..."
"Yeah. Him again. The Colonel doesn't know when to quit, does he?"
Edward glared up at him, wiping some of the stuff off his nose.
The idiot prince still couldn't be bothered to figure out the different notes and coins, probably because he'd never actually paid for anything in his life.
The voice hit Ed like a blow, and drove the breath from his lungs. "Where are you?" he shouted. "Where are you?"
Any girl would be driven insane if she was the youngest child and the only girl in a family of six children.
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
"Oh, what would YOU know? said Winry. "You've never looked at a girl in your life."
Ed opened his mouth, and then closed it. "Visibility is that important to you, huh?" he said.
"You. Boy by the window who's been doodling all the way through. What would be the result of this equation?"
"Shut up. Don't say anything. I made you food, and there's beer in the icebox, and happy fucking Oktoberfest."
"Stop that," he snapped, flicking the tap on. "Change into something a little more appropriate. You're not him, brother."
"Get out of the kitchen, brother," he snarled, waving the spatula threateningly. "I'm still cooking, damnit."
Such strength. Such dignity. Such discipline. So not the person she was supposed to seduce.
"He's the Fullmetal Alchemist," Alphonse interrupted, tapping his pen against his clipboard. "Are you sure you're up to the task?"
You could attribute it to teenage rebellion, if you liked, or to homunculus-hormones, which could be quite fierce, or heck, maybe she was just living up to her name.
"I'll have you know I'm in a committed monogamous relationship."
"In case you hadn't noticed," Ed went on, poking Roy in the chest, "I am no longer twelve."
The door opened, and all the energy Ed had been ready to put towards transmuting the door into a pile of sticks drained out of him through his feet.
As stated in the catalog, our Model 436b Hairless Ape is highly customizable, designed with the discerning deity in mind.
High school and sexuality are hard enough to deal with, without adding high explosives to the mix.
"Can't you forget what you read for a few minutes, and just... you know... go with the flow?"
"We ought to have a toast," Ed says, frowning into the depths of his bottle. "They always do when they're having a drink in someone's memory."
One day Edward was out kicking the crap out of those damn Homunculus with Al...
Are those little flamels on his pajamas? Where the hell does he shop, Alchemist Cliches 'R Us?
You had to hand it to Roy, he certainly knew how to keep his cool.
"Go back to sleep, Mustang," Ed answers absently, flipping the page.
"I know those court ordered anger management classes were years ago, but you've come such a long way."