Hadn't he survived a month on a deserted island when he was ten, equipped only with a little knife and one pair of shorts? He was tough. He was rugged. He could fall asleep anywhere. He could totally do this.
Brother likes to pretend that he doesn't care what goes on in the military unless it directly affects him. Or, you know, directly offends him. One or the other.
"You don't think doing grown up things makes you look older?" Ed said after a while.
It is what people say to him because they cannot think of any other way to relate to him, this boy who has the heavy title of 'Full Metal Alchemist'.
He didn't play anymore, not with reports to file, books to read, notes to scratch out.
Edward Elric was in an exceedingly bad mood.
She'd barely managed not to wail But it's Yoletide! and prove herself both spoiled brat and country bumpkin.
The color red was a distraction. The color red was him. Him--Mustang's own constant distraction, the waving red banner amidst the dull color that painted his everyday life.
Okay, his hair wasn't brushed, and it had been a while since he'd gotten a bath, but he didn't think it was anything to blush at.
But they were no longer young, and they no longer lived together, and Al wouldn't embarrass his brother in front of their hosts by trying to take care of him.
And there was a certain look they shared, the one they both used when they thought Ed was being unreasonably stubborn.
Alphonse worried, but was rapidly won over by his brother's promises.
There was a loud crack, like the sound of several chopsticks simultaneously being snapped in two, followed by the sound of something heavy falling, the object hitting the ground so hard the earth literally shook beneath Ed's feet.
"Well, I guess she can't keep him away from every bitch in heat around this place."
If Ed had his way, his allowance (and all of Roy's salary) would be spent entirely on the most expensive brand of dog food to have ever existed.
And if he did forget mom's face, what would be next? Her voice? Her smile? The color of her eyes?
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
At night, curled shivering on the layers of musty damp leaves under the glimmering stars, Ed lay silently and thought of unspeakable unknowns...
The audience fades away; the chatters dies, their twin breaths are the soft herald of thunder to come.
But he still flinched away from that metal skin, and held his own burning automail arm a little further from his body in hopes that he would not bump against it.
Ed remembered that Al's first word was 'Mama', and his second one was 'Niichan'.
Alfons Heiderich, this universe's most cruel mistake, came round from the other side of the crumbling brick wall, and Ed found himself again wondering if the man existed solely for his personal torment.
It was the last moments of the change that had always held Ed rapt, had always thrilled him with the knowledge that whatever came into being, every tiny detail of it, was his creation.
"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."
I didn't understand that, didn't comprehend why being clean for going into the earth was a good thing until much later...
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.
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
"So, we're one gunshot from a civil war. If someone from Hakuro's faction fired that shot, for whatever reason ..."
rated:K-L-V | M+F S+S | Mangaverse | post-series | SP: ch 1-108 | DF: ch 105 | Alphonse Elric | Edward Elric | Roy Mustang | mystery | 354th FG HQ | UST | 2010 Best New Voices, Neophyte | Havoc/Rebecca
Ed began to understand why some people talked to themselves.
He’s killing his brother slowly, but he has already promised to do it quickly; what does it matter?
That day, Ed had pulled his hair out of a braid and tied it up into a neat ponytail.
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.
What do you know, he wanted to scream, what do you know about my brother, what he’s gone through and how far he’s — we’ve — come?
It was a lousy day, depressing and the color of the sky on his way home reminded Ed of the color of the Gate and he just felt helpless and sorry and lonely and bad.
That was the problem with girls these days... they just didn't know how to deal with a little pain.
Ah. Fans. He preens slightly into his coat, sits up just a little taller on his haunches. Fans he knows how to deal with.
"...That is an order, Fullmetal, and I will have you court-martialed if you refuse."
Every line in his chest and back was defined; he hardly seemed to have any body fat at all.
He remembered finding himself asking why the Fullmetal Alchemist would be the one to patch his own clothes.
If Al hadn't known how often the older boy feigned unconsciousness in order to stave off these visits, he might have been fooled.
For now, he has mastered one world, two worlds; they have mastered him as well, and he is tired.
It was getting kind of depressing, though, by the time the color red alone would make him wonder about the child; the flash of a cardinal, a sprig of bright berries, the gaudiness of nighttime tavern lights, and the scarlet lipstick of bar women.
If Al could have frowned suspiciously, he would have. Instead he relied on his expressive vocal stylings as he propped his brother upright. “What’s in that glass, Brother?”
Ed did not want to die without seeing Alphonse again.
They were good boys, and smart, and she trusted them to stay mostly out of trouble. Mostly.
And of course, he does not believe in God anyway, and scorns the idea of predestination.
Ed imagined Al's expression would look something like Fletcher's did right now.
It was just as his body heat was beginning to bring the sheets up to a reasonable temperature that the noise caught his ears- an ugly scraping sound, unnatural and harsh in the silence of early morning hours.
"And search for free porn." Havoc pointed out.