Internalized reminiscence by a character on a series of events.
When dealing with the military, it always paid to look ready for inspection. Neatness counted; passion was suspect.
We were the naive kings of all we surveyed, lingering on the hilltop as we stared at our kingdom of ash, of ruins, of dust.
Alfons prays for the day when he will return to a far-off Edward, and somehow miraculously find the words, the actions, to call him back from his imaginary world.
Lust had memories. They were strange, confusing, painful. But she thought maybe she remembered love. Also hate. They seemed, from her perspective, very much alike.
Like other little girls, she wanted to be an actress, the heroine in her own perfect fairytale.
I needed something that said 'I am Elicia Hughes, more than just Daddy's Girl.'
In that moment, nature feels alive around her, resisting her, and every small victory of every small breath confirms that she’s alive, too.
It was well known around Central headquarters that Roy Mustang was lusting after the visiting Major-General.
It seemed, the man thought, that Ed was a lot like the sun -- warm, comforting -- and at a distance.
She paced the wide, marble floor, visited each of the soaring windows, feeling every supple sinew beneath her skin move with the perfection of the young.
He has seen the desert. Seen her scorched and scarred beneath his steady hands. Stepped in her tattered remains, tasted her ashes with every breath.
Grandfathers should want different things for their grandchildren, shouldn't they?
Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye stands behind Colonel Roy Mustang, laughing silently about her silly dreams, her hand never straying far from the gun by her side.
It didn't really sink in when you saw the thing, all clumsy dangling wood and leather straps, like the arm of a marionette in a kids' puppet show.
Your eyes stared up at me, wide and questioning, in a response not fit for such a young child.
He gave, and he gave, and he gave, and he could only hope that it was enough.
Roy Mustang often looked back on his wedding night, recalling what he had thought about his subordinates; even now, they were his family, his safety, his friends.
Even so, you still are a manipulative bastard.
There was no question that the very act of living in this world was to be in exile.
There was one thing that Edward had missed above all others.
"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
Alphonse had thought that he must have the bravest brother in the world.
He can hear their strained breathing but that's all, and he's never liked the General's silence and he likes Ed's even less.
He wanted Hughes to know how many lines he had crossed in his lifetime.
What price for a human soul? Even a body and a leg had left a debt that could cleave the world in two.
He doesn't love Scar. The idea is ridiculous, but they are all they have left, each other's bodies rocks against the tide of strangeness, unfamiliarity.
He couldn't understand this world, this obsession with his son in the negative.
She moves the king again, to its last optional safe square and murmurs, "I'll admit this is not how I envisioned my first night on the battlefield."
He just carries himself with a certain atmosphere, one that feels like splinters of buildings falling off walls and landing broken or the smell of roasted flesh.
Yet there are still nights that he wakes up to find his hand clutched by a seated Al, who laughs his hollow laugh and asks if he's okay, even though he does not remember screaming.
See him move, see him train, see him jump into that air and swing his leg in a complete arch before he lands heavily to the ground in a perfect execution of Sensei's teachings.
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.
Very few alchemists believed in God, but all of them believed in books.
There were precious few memories remaining, now, dimmed with the passage of time and the years that he’d spent lacking a flesh body, but he kept them close to him all the same.
He had only meant to pass through the town; it wasn't like much would have changed anyway.
There is no way Alfons knows what he does to him.
Life, the Fullmetal Alchemist decided viciously, wasn't fair.
According to Hughes, Major Mustang was close to promotion and as his subordinate, it was her prerogative to try and help him to reach the next rung of the ladder.
Impress, they had told him. Make us see why we should choose you as one of our own.
I, the stray dog of the desert, who sloped long and pale, slashed to ribbons, across the moonlight sands on my journey to God.
Of course, when she was their age she could hardly recite her multiplication tables, much less draw complex alchemical glyphs.
Because he had said one year; and dammit, he meant it.
Sometimes, he prays that the hand will come down and Ed will tell him gently they are done, they are going to quit, end the nightmare before it worsens.
Car broke down again, couple kilometers out of the city, so they had to walk for a while, until Alfons couldn't speak for the coughing.
The taste of arsenic is golden, addictive, even it does pave the road to hell.
She feels like an intruder, eyes watching her from empty rooms, and every stair is a memory she dares not to disturb.
Roy could order her to stay home and rest, but he couldn't keep her from cleaning.
And there was a certain look they shared, the one they both used when they thought Ed was being unreasonably stubborn.