It was a big world out there, full of more possibilities than either of them could dream of.
Ling was an expert at this shit, he really was: making Ed feel too bad to say no to him, throwing out weird, cheeseball compliments that made his cheeks fire and froze his brain before he could brush them off
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.
"Well, I guess she can't keep him away from every bitch in heat around this place."
It was only after the sheer sensation had abated — only when he felt on solid enough ground to focus on the subtleties of life once more — that the habit began to catch his attention.
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'.
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.
And of course, he does not believe in God anyway, and scorns the idea of predestination.
I didn't understand that, didn't comprehend why being clean for going into the earth was a good thing until much later...
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?”
They shared the same eyes, the same hair, and a level of intelligence ... and sometimes, Ed felt far too much like he was his father's son.
"And search for free porn." Havoc pointed out.
"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."
Of course he came through the window.
"...That is an order, Fullmetal, and I will have you court-martialed if you refuse."
"I want to bring father back for her," Al had whispered the week before Christmas fell.
This is the smell of ozone from a lightning strike. This is fear.
He can still feel in his cheeks the faint scratch of beard against skin when his father kissed him there.
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.
Ed should have remembered this from that month on the island, back when he was a kid: you can only be in the great outdoors so long before you start dreaming of hot showers. And of dumping the people you're travelling with in them.
Yes, something was amiss, and Roy Mustang was going to find out what.
He was only human though, and he had given into his rage at having to deal with Edward's dysfunction--and now Edward was gone, and it looked more and more like he might not be coming back.
And after all, no amount of rain can wash the blood away.
Alphonse worried, but was rapidly won over by his brother's promises.
Ed did not want to die without seeing Alphonse again.
He didn't play anymore, not with reports to file, books to read, notes to scratch out.
Alfons swears he doesn't need glasses - and maybe he doesn't, if he can see such phenomena as the Gegenschein light--but up close he has trouble like this.
There was one thing that Edward had missed above all others.
You hide it well behind your bluster and your sulks, but the workings of your mind are at once cunningly devious and ruthlessly simple.
As much as he loved his family, Alphonse Elric wouldn't have traded these moments alone for anything.
Alphonse had thought that he must have the bravest brother in the world.
The staff look at each other, look at their automail bottle-opener, and prepare to duck.
“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.”
Not a fairy, then, Alfons thought in disappointment. The fairies in stories weren't usually so foul-mouthed and excitable, anyway.
Every line in his chest and back was defined; he hardly seemed to have any body fat at all.
"Oh, what would YOU know? said Winry. "You've never looked at a girl in your life."
But he glanced behind himself for Winly, and it was a terrible, bittersweet thing.
Bravado. Make them regret they ever talked to you.
The advantage to being so distinctive-looking was that sometimes Edward didn't have to look for people; they found him first.
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.
Edward Elric was in an exceedingly bad mood.
This really was turning out to be a day of surprises, thought Roy.
And while he didn't know the Niisan that had been to hell and back again with a grin on his face, he knew his Niisan, and he knew that prison was not at all where he belonged.
Al's slightly hollow voice positively echoed with embarrassment but he bravely soldiered on...
That day, Ed had pulled his hair out of a braid and tied it up into a neat ponytail.
Sometimes they race to see who can get to Winry's house faster.
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.
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?
"Honestly, Fullmetal, I'm beginning to think that you're more trouble than you're worth."
You'd have to be inhuman not to quake in fear when she stares you down.