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aylaniko · 6 months

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Ana de Armas? não! é apenas Ayla Galanis Nikódemos, ela é filha de Zeus do chalé 1 e tem 29 anos. a tv hefesto informa no guia de programação que ela está no Nível III por estar no acampamento há 14 anos, sabia? e se lá estiver certo, Ay é bastante Solidária mas também dizem que ela é Vingativa. mas você sabe como hefesto é, sempre inventando fake news pra atrair audiência.

BIOGRAFIA:

Nascida e criada na ilha de Creta, Ayla teve sua infância permeada por rituais místicos gregos. Sua mãe, uma historiadora nata, desde muito jovem sempre contava à Ay como Teseu derrotara o Minotauro, como Dédalo perdera a vida no mar Egeu e como o Rei Minos sucumbira depois de um grande reinado tirano. No entanto, o que a garota não saberia ainda, é que todas aquelas histórias, no futuro, seriam histórias verídicas de seus antepassados.

Ariadne, sua mãe, sempre soubera, lá no fundo, que nada do que dedicara sua vida estudando podia ser mentira. O Deuses existiam e ela rezava por eles todos os dias. Depois que conheceu Zeus e tivera uma filha com ele, Ariadne sentiu um misto de satisfação e medo ao mesmo tempo, percebendo que todas as provações que sua filha um dia passaria, então implorou para que Zeus em sua magnitude protegesse sua filha dos monstros enquanto ela vivesse, não sabendo ela que aquela seria uma maldição infligida à si posteriormente. Sabendo das histórias sobre o matrimônio de Zeus e Hera e do temperamento da esposa, Ariadne fez de tudo para esconder a garota da vista da Deusa que ela temia descobrir mais uma traição de seu marido, mas foi no dia 04/04/1993 que a existência de Ayla foi descoberta, em seu aniversário de 15 anos.

Hera tinha olhos em todos os lugares e sabia exatamente o dia em que Ayla fora consumada, então amaldiçoou Ariadne, onde a proteção divina de Zeus à garota só iria valer até que ela completasse 15 anos. E assim foi feito.

Em seu aniversário de 15 anos, o cheiro da garota atraiu monstros para o apartamento em que moravam, e enquanto ela soprava as velas de seu aniversário houve uma explosão em toda a casa, levando a garota às alturas. Ayla buscou levantar-se enquanto sentia sua cabeça explodindo, um zunido ensurdecedor lhe consumindo, quando conseguiu avistar a tempo os cães infernais buscando e farejando pelo seu cheiro. Ela imaginou que só poderia ter enlouquecido, pensando que não era possível que tais criaturas, aquelas nas quais sua mãe contava para ela histórias antes de dormir, pudessem ser de fato reais. Então foi quando se lembrou, subitamente, do que Ariadne havia lhe dito sobre os monstros: buscavam por semideuses. Antes que a ficha pudesse finalmente cair, Ayla buscou com os olhos frenéticos pela mãe, até que ouviu um barulho de algo caindo no chão da sala...

Então tudo aconteceu muito rapidamente, Ayla levantou-se e correu, o mais rápido que conseguiu até a mãe, escorrendo nos restos de bolo perdidos pelo chão e tropeçando em destroços de móveis recém comprados. Sua mãe buscava descontroladamente pela pistola que guardava no móvel da TV, e quando a achou, agarrou a filha atrás de si e com as mãos tremendo apontou para os cães que continuavam rugindo e latindo, babando pelo gosto de semideus que encontraram a frente, pareciam nem perceber que sua mãe lhes apontavam uma arma.

Ayla então percebeu que sua mãe murmurava palavras baixinho e, mesmo em choque, podia entendê-las: “Ela descobriu, ela descobriu… Zeus…tem misericórdia…”, e então houve disparos, mas as balas não acertaram órgãos vitais, e os monstros, agora enfurecidos, voaram agilmente em direção à sua mãe…

Foi como um piscar de olhos, em um momento sua mãe estava viva e depois morta, os monstros a atacaram como cachorros enraivados, dilacerando-a pelo pescoço rapidamente, e então voltaram-se para ela. Ayla ainda não tinha nenhum treinamento em combate, sua mãe, em sua ingenuidade mortal, lhe poupou disso achando que sua proteção duraria para sempre. A garota acertou os monstros com tudo o que poderia encontrar, empurrou móveis, rolou debaixo da mesa, até que se esquivando, não tinha mais saída, topou com o corpo da mãe, as lágrimas rolando pelo rosto quando agarrou a arma e atirou contra os cães infernais, e dessa vez funcionou.

O choque fora tão grande que a garota simplesmente desmaiou, o cheiro de sangue e monstros ultrapassou seus limites olfativos e ela se viu acolhida pela escuridão, e quando acordou já estava no Acampamento Meio-Sangue.

Ayla teve tempo para aprimorar seus poderes no Acampamento Meio Sangue. No início sua adaptação foi extremamente difícil, ela não aceitava seus meio irmãos como irmãos e chorava todos os dias em luto.

Descobriu que a pistola que sua mãe guardava em casa era justamente uma precaução para eventualidades, e suas balas eram feitas de bronze celestial, dessa forma era capaz de matar monstros. Com o tempo foi se adaptando ao punho e à mira, se tornando assim sua arma preferida, embora também utilizasse facas de arremesso.

Seus poderes foram as habilidades mais difíceis de dominar, demorou quase um ano inteiro para que pudesse apenas conjurar uma mudança de clima completo e que este permanecesse por mais do que 5min, dessa forma, depois de muita negação, Ayla dedicou-se ainda mais para dominá-los.

Em sua primeira missão de resgate, quando finalmente estava pronta para salvar outros semideuses de fins piores, Ayla se viu sozinha com um semideus alucinando de dor após ser atingido por picada de uma quimera. Havia perdido seus companheiros e teria de salvar o jovem sozinha e levá-lo em segurança para o Acampamento. Havia visto poucas vezes os filhos de Apolo em ação, e quando foi tratar o semideus com cuidados paliativos até que chegassem no Acampamento, não pôde deixar de rezar para Apolo que guiasse suas mãos em busca de uma cura. Sendo assim, Apolo não só ouviu suas preces como surgiu e lhe abençoou com a capacidade e discernimento médico mínimo, ele sabia que Ay se culpava todos os dias por não ter conseguido fazer nada para salvar sua mãe, muito menos houve tempo para cuidados médicos. Dessa forma, Ayla estava sempre indo e vindo na Enfermaria, ajudando os filhos de Apolo em situações críticas em que precisassem de mais pessoas para ajudar, mas mais do que isso, Ayla dedicava aquela benção no cuidado dos Pégasos nos estábulos. As criaturas foram sua primeira conexão quando chegou no Acampamento, sendo justo assim retribuir o favor lhes tirando todo e qualquer desconforto que pudessem sentir após uma longa disputa entre semideuses, fosse assim uma mera claudicação ou ferimentos mais graves.

PODERES:

Atmocinese.

HABILIDADES: Sentidos aguçados e reflexos sobre-humanos.

ARMA:

Uma pistola Harper’s Ferry flintlock pistol modelo 1806, banhada a ouro, seu punho de madeira desenhada com arabescos, sua munição de balas de bronze celestial.

Também utiliza facas de arremesso, feitas em ouro e banhadas em bronze celestial.

BENÇÃO: Benção de Apolo para habilidades médicas e curandeiras.

DESEJA ESCOLHER ALGUM CARGO DE INSTRUTOR? Ayla é instrutora de Poderes específicos (Manipulação das correntes de ar), e é líder da equipe de corrida de Pégasos. Ela também faz parte da equipe equipe azul de Parede de Escalada.

#bio;

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presumenothing · 4 years

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(AO3)

These days Ed’s journals are actual proper travelogues, no coded shit or anything.

…okay, no, there’s still some coded shit because alchemy is an inseparable part of travelling for him and that’s just too damn dangerous to leave out in plain sight. Especially since he can’t just transmute the covers shut anymore.

Besides, old habits are hard to break. Though at least he’s trained himself (with Winry’s enthusiastic “encouragement”) out of accidentally writing shopping lists and stuff in code too, just because half his mind’s still occupied with figuring out a transmutation or three dozen.

But anyway. Somehow he keeps finding that there’s so much to write about these days whenever he arrives in a new place, or even when he visits those they’ve been in before.

(Fine, yes, probably that does say something about how much of a one-track mind he’d had, before – but getting his and Al’s bodies back had been really fucking important, okay?

That was putting it mildly, even, and he’d always consider it a worthy exchange even if it did make him wonder sometimes if there were other things he’d missed back then.)

He doesn’t mail out excitedly longwinded accounts of his journeys like Al does, complete with local recipes, pressed dried flowers, and photos or meticulously-labelled illustrations in place of them. Or that’s what he hears from Winry, at least – when Al sends Ed letters it runs more along the lines of alchemical notes that are thoroughly annotated (and even more thoroughly coded), though sometimes dried flowers still find their way into the envelope because his brother is a ridiculous sensory-addicted dork and Ed loves him to pieces despite the constant risk of pollen allergy.

Luckily the flowers are usually flat enough to double as bookmarks for his journals, which is also a convenient way of marking the progress of his journey against Al’s. So there’s that.

Though letters between them don’t happen very often, what with how very very frequently they change towns (or even countries) entirely.

He’s pretty sure there’s now an urban legend about that time Al’s letter had to be redirected a whole fifteen times before it reached him, and he’s definitely certain the postal system of Amestris and beyond actively hates them both by now.

(Which is seriously uncalled for, since Al always puts more than enough postage to account for the inevitable redirections? But by this point Ed will personally vouch that people everywhere can be unreasonable about the weirdest stuff. Turns out Amestris doesn’t have a monopoly on that. Possibly not even the biggest market share.)

And of course it’s almost always Al doing the sending. Contrary to what Mustang believes Ed is actually capable of semi-tidy handwriting when he needs to be – how the hell else would he draw transmutation circles and not have them blow up in his face?

But one time Ed had just gotten so immediately carried away that he’d written his reply on whatever he’d had on hand right then, which amounted to three crumpled-then-flattened-again receipts, a map from the last town, and the back of the envelope that Al had sent his letter in.

(Al’s answering letter had come with five crisply-folded sheets of blank paper; Ed could practically hear the sigh coming from it.)

So now that they’ve acknowledged that letter-writing isn’t Ed’s strong point even when it’s about alchemy, and since Al’s all for being super-organised about everything – the resemblance the Hawkeye is really starting to get terrifying – and makes plans in advance far more than Ed does (which is to say not at all), Al now includes also-coded lists of telephone numbers in his letters, along with the dates when he expects to be contactable at each place.

This way Al can continue taking however long he likes to compose each letter (and he definitely adds to them over different days, Ed can tell by the writing) while Ed can call right back to discuss seven different theories at once, and woe betide anyone who tries to bug their phone calls without at least a university library’s worth of theoretical alchemy to back it up.

It’s a great arrangement, and Ed doesn’t have to write any letters. His brother is a genius.

The resounding success of this arrangement also reminds Ed that there are more ways to say hi, still not dead! than just letters (because, once again: impossible), since so many people have insisted on expressing completely unnecessary worry over his decision to travel alone.

(Hawkeye had only expressed an offer to teach him self-defence via firearm, and when he turned that down she’d instead produced a wallet of alarmingly convincing fake documents under a half-dozen not-Edward-Elric names. “Just in case,” she’d said, which still hadn’t explained why there’d been a pass from Xing proclaiming him to be a diplomat and thus immune to Amestrisan law.

Hawkeye is the best, hands down.)

For Winry he scribbles down the compositions of metal alloys and composites by region alongside rough sketches of interesting-looking designs, and most of the time he even remembers to record all this through an engineering lens rather than an alchemical one. He collects the scraps of notes and mails them once he’s gathered enough, which he usually does every few weeks, though he saves the actual material samples for when they meet in-person because they’re just too damned troublesome to mail. (He doesn’t really send anything separate for Granny Pinako, except for that one magazine clipping from Creta that had dedicated one full-page spread to Rockbell Automail’s advances, along with a hastily-done translation on the back.)

Mustang’s team gets the occasional joke souvenir; Ed knows that Breda and Havoc have a betting pool going (because of course they do) on who can most accurately guess where he’ll go next, so he always makes sure to get things that aren’t obviously tied to any place, and addresses the parcels to Hawkeye directly because he trusts her to thoroughly destroy the postmarked evidence.

(During their last phone call Al had pretty much admitted to dropping red herrings about Ed’s plans in his letters back to the team, and Ed had laughed so hard he’d needed to sit down.)

But that’s pretty much the most regular of it – Al, Winry, and sowing chaos in Mustang’s office from afar – and no one’s complained yet, so Ed figures this is good enough. Maybe someday when they’re all back together again they can borrow some of his journals to read if they want to; he knows that Winry does enjoy reading about Al’s travels, and if nothing else Al will certainly have fun spotting which parts are actually about alchemy and cracking them.

That’s still some time off anyway.

Right now, though, he’s got a new idea about that alkahestry fusion that Al had written about, and – how the hell do you even dial from Aerugo to Xing?

Ed has no idea, but there’d better be a way or he’s gonna make one, see if he doesn’t.

(more fics here)

#writes fmab fic as a birthday present to myself because that's just how i roll #this entire thing literally started life as just the first sentence alone #i still don't understand how the rest of it happened #hence the nowhere ending #does this count as an ed character study???? i havent the faintest clue #closest i can get to it anyway #fanfiction #mine #fmab #fma

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cretadrive-blog · 6 years

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Τελικά ποιος τις έπινε τις ρακές;

Τελικά ποιος τις έπινε τις ρακές; Κανένα περιστατικό με ρακή αντί για σκιαγραφικό δεν έχει αναφερθεί στο Βενιζέλειο λέει η διοίκηση του Νοσοκομείου… (more…)

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blogsohaibus · 4 years

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Hyundai Cretan automatic Based on the same platform:

👉 The Hyundai Cretan is a subcompact crossover SUV:

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#Cheap Rent A Car #Car Rental Dubai

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bluebookbadger-blog · 7 years

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The Price of a Life - Chapter 6

Title: The Price of a Life Fandom (s): Fullmetal Alchemist/Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood Summary: I always thought waking up in another world would be a lot more…interesting. At least slightly exciting and terrifying, but it really wasn’t. It was more of a sudden and underwhelming event, that landed me in the company of fiction and its ignorance to modern physics. I thought it was a dream. Boy was I wrong. Characters: SI/OC, Maes Hughes, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, etc. Rating: PG-13

A/N: I do not own any Disney films or associated materials mentioned in this or any upcoming chapters. Any opinions of Disney expressed by the characters are their own.

I rested my head against the window the the train, watching the countryside pass by. Did you know how awful it was to get 'Let it Go' stuck in your head, and have no other music to drown it out? Truth, why couldn't you have left me in a strange world with at least an Ipod or my phone or something! I guessed it would have messed up the entire technology gap, but how could I have cared about that with Idina Menzel screaming in my skull?

"What's the matter Mac?" Hughes asked, noting my pained expression. It was just him and me, Denny and Maria has missed the train and were taking a later one, and Armstrong had left with the Elrics to Resembool.

I still had a few episodes to go until the Fifth Laboratory incident, but I needed to be on my guard. Things were progressing on schedule, but the room for error was small in my upcoming scheme.

"Do you ever get that good but overplayed song stuck in your head?" I asked, looking on as we passed some cows. They looked like Brahmans, which was strange considering that breed developed in the West Indies, but hey - Amestris was an entire smattering of countries apparently so why bother questioning anything.

"Can't say that I have…" Hughes said, observing me carefully. "Do they play a lot of music in your village?" I looked up, having not thought of how I'd translate my world into a small village.

"Yeah, all the time. Whenever a new song is written people go crazy about it have it played over and over again by anyone who can sing and use an instrument. Most people have instruments of all sorts in their house and can sing - from farmers to the mayor, everybody knows the same songs by heart." I smiled imagining this in the small village of Ire. "It keeps everybody in touch with new ideas and upcoming events - like a spoken newspaper but with more emotion and less job advertisements."

"Do you not have a publisher in Ire?" I gave a small laugh - this talk was actually getting the damned song out of my head.

"Yeah, but not a lot of people read newspapers. It's much faster and easier to spread news by song." I needed to start replacing any modern technology with song, it'd make this whole technology gap seem a lot smaller. "But that song I have stuck in my head is just a stupid - well, it's not actually that bad, and it conveys a really good message, but people sang it way too often instead of singing any relevant songs, which made it hard to get information around in newer songs. Just annoying."

I sighed, looking out the window. I really did like the song when I first heard it, and I didn't mind that it was so popular, but having it stuck in your head for two hours on a train was one of the worst forms of psychological pain I had endured since coming here.

"You're village sounds fun," I nodded, aware he was subtly interrogating me. It didn't matter. Years of lying to my siblings, and to my parents for those same siblings - not to mention having a sister in the military - coupled with my overactive imagination made it very easy to convince myself that Ire was a real place.

"Yeah, it was fun. I kind of miss it now and then, but it's pretty cool being here in Amestris too." I sighed, happy that the infernal song had been replaced with 'Reflection' from Mulan. Still Disney, but not overly popular Disney.

You know how you think you'd remember all of your favorite songs by your favorite bands if you were dropped somewhere isolated for a while? Nope. I could barely recall a single line of any of my favorite songs - let alone the names of the bands. Only Disney songs and childhood lullabies remained, probably for the best.

"Irish," Wait, he never called me Irish. Hughes, what the hell were you going to ask? "Why did you leave Ire? You must miss your family, and you're too young to be traveling by yourself." Jokes on you Maes Hughes! I had come up with this story during all of those sleepless nights whenever I wasn't working on the future, I had been making up my past.

"Long story, do we have the time?" I asked peering around for a clock. Hughes took out a pocket watch - not a pretty engraved silver one like the one given to State Alchemists. Its hands read 10:10, and judging by the sun peering over the horizon, it was morning. We had only left around 8:00, meaning we wouldn't be back in Central until supper time.

"Well, I left because I heard alchemists here in Amestris were very gifted. I came to find one who specializes in medically based alchemy." I patted my bag, the lists of registered alchemists. "Beyond my plan for organizing Scar's target range, I wanted to see if there were any that met the requirements I was looking for."

"Why were you looking for a bioalchemist who specialized in medicine?" Hughes prodded gently. I could almost see him making a mental note of every word I said.

His suspicion was growing, and rightfully so. I had all but predicted every one of Scar's moves - I wouldn't be surprised if anyone thought I was working with him. I was one of the only people to face him alone and live to tell the tale.

"My mother," I looked down, feeling my cheeks warm in actually distress as I touched the Celtic cross, which had once more jumped over the collar of the blouse I was wearing. "She's very sick, and none of the doctors can explain her illness. It presents itself as a cross between dementia and leprosy, she's forgetting where she is, and her limbs are slowly dying."

I gulped down the lump in my throat, happy those years of drama club were paying off. And, part of it wasn't entirely acting. Back home, my mother had bravely fought off stage three cancer, at the price of her legs. Not all of the tears pricking at my eyes were fake.

"I-I thought, since the alchemists here are some of the best in the world, not to mention you have some of the latest medical technology, I'd be able to find someone who'd have some knowledge on the subject."

"Mac," Hughes said as I wiped the tears from my eyes. No time to have a mental breakdown right here and now - I'd have to save that for when the carnage of the series began. "I'm sorry-"

"No, no," I said, taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry, um, what else do you want to know?" I sniffed, looking down as a man came by with a cart.

"Do you want anything-"

"No, thank you." Hughes said curtly, annoyed with the interruption. As the man moved on, he turned back to me.

"Tell me anything you want to, I'm not forcing you to talk Mac." Maes Hughes was such a sweet guy, it almost made me start crying again.

"Um, well, we had this huge library. My dad never could convince my mother to open it to the public or as book store, and after she got sick he never had to heart to. When I wasn't with my siblings or working at Mr. Solosky's farm, I was in there. Most of the books were nonfiction - science documents, research papers, boring stuff like that.

"But every now and then there'd be a good fiction novel, and I'd read them over and over again to my little brothers. I'd read the science and research papers, but my brother never really bonded with me over those - they're just boys, you know? Nothing satisfies their little minds more than a good bloody war."

I needed to keep talking. If I didn't continue, he's just interrogate me later, and giving the story a personal touch made it more believable. I cracked a tired smile at the man, his eyes both cold and yet pitying. Everyone in this world seemed to be a paradox of how they were generally portrayed. It was strange.

"But, it burned down - just a few days before I left for Amestris, actually. My grandfather took it as a sign from Utka that I wouldn't be able to return if I left, but it was just an accident. During the Festival of Micky, the campfire sparks lit it up like a pile of old tinder." I had to stifle a smile and keep my somber expression. The idea of a group of people worshiping a giant anthropomorphic mouse was amusing.

"A few days later I caught a train south, jumped the border into Creta, spent a little time in Aerugo, and then booked it north through the South Area. I would have just come through the north, but the mountain and Fort Briggs is a pretty good deterrent, besides, I wanted to see a bit of the world - I'd never left Ire for anything more than a hunting trip before then."

"How did you get all the way to Central without getting caught? I mean, you did say you spent a while in Liore." I yawned, looking out the window.

"No offense, but you're border patrol is awful. And once I got to Liore I fit in pretty well. It is - or well, it was a smattering of different cultures and people, so they all ignored the little Drachman immigrant girl who never caused any trouble." I said, running a hand through my hair. "Though, once Letoism moved in, they were pretty quick to judge. At first I thought Father Cornello would be able to help me but his quote and quote 'miracles' had a bad energy to them."

"A 'bad energy'?" Hughes inquired as we headed into a tunnel. The dark of the underground passage only lit by the small, flickering, light bulbs. I shivered, the memory of my nightmare coming back for a moment.

"Yeah, it just didn't feel right. You know, something that puts you on edge and makes your insides turn and your heart feel frozen. That kind of bad energy." I relaxed a little as we exited the dark of the tunnel, natural sunlight streaming through the windows once more.

"So, I hitched a train up north. When I got to Central, I was a little distracted by how impressive - well, how imposing everything was. I...wasn't paying attention and I guess someone stole my belongings. I didn't have any money so I kind of just fell asleep in the park, then those soldiers found me and we went to the jail and bada bing bada boom here I am." Hughes was looking at me strangely, his brow furrowed with confusion. "What?"

"You use a lot of strange words," He noted, as I brought a hand self consciously to my lips. I forgot how out of place my 21st century lingo might seem to them. I smiled, scratching Lucha's head as he crawled out of the bag and onto the table.

"Sorry, I just picked up a lot of expression in my travels." I said with a laugh, once more turning to the window. We passed a small town, the people slow moving blurs in the distance from my train window. "Hey Hughes, why did you become a soldier?" I asked, half aware of what I was asking.

It had been bugging me for a while. He didn't seem like the soldier type - Hughes was more of a businessman or engineer, something that didn't have the prospect of death everyday. He had whole family to think of as well, so what were his motives for staying the job that could, and would if I didn't plan on interfering, end in his death?

"The same reason you risked your life to come all the way to Amestris," I looked up at him, confused.

"For modern medicine…?"

"No, Mac, for family." I looked down at the table, tracing the scratches in its polished finish.

"But Hughes," I asked, doing my best to recall his age and the start of the Ishvalan war. "If you did serve in the war, you must have joined the military academy before you were past twenty one. Was there a draft for normal soldiers as well as alchemists?" He shook is head, resting his chin on his clasped hands.

"There was someone I wanted to protect-"

"Gracia?" He nodded, though I felt a bit embarrassed by my interruption.

"Yes, and Elecia, though I didn't know until after I left for the war." I frowned, still not understanding entirely.

"But wouldn't you want to be with Gracia instead of risking your life? What if you never came back and Elicia never got to meet you?" Hughes shrugged, turning his gaze to the looming mid afternoon sun.

"It didn't cross my mind at the time, I wanted to protect the both of them. And if I needed to join the military then that's what I wanted to do. Knowing I was going to be a father, and having my adorable little angel with Gracia waiting for me only made my resolve to come back in one piece stronger."

My hand was once again drawn to the cross around my neck. My sister Mary had joined the military because she, well, she was very proud to be an American. Not necessarily your typical die hard redneck from the sticks - we grew up in New England after all - but she still had a bit of fire in her that made you wonder how she could possible be related to that quiet family that only ever said a word in her defense.

She had always said she joined the military because she loved her country, but part of me could now see that Mary wasn't just that one crazy aunt I'd keep my kids away from at parties. She really did just want to protect the people most important to her. I sighed, and laid my head down upon my crossed arms.

"You're an idiot Hughes," I closed my eyes briefly before looking up at his amused expression. "But you were an idiot for love, and so long as it doesn't get you killed, I guess I can tolerate it."

The train slowed as it approached its second stop - Geob. It was a pleasant little city, not too buy but not at all rural either. The train screeched to a halt, the crowded platform bustling with waiting passengers and families awaiting the train's arriving passengers. It took almost an hour for the train to leave the station - and today seemed as if it was going to take even longer.

The rain the past few days had delayed and closed trains, and with the new sunny weather of late summer setting in, I wasn't surprised so many people had waited until today to depart. I sighed, watching the passengers slowly get off, like bees lazily leaving the hive after a long winter.

Taking out the files of State Alchemists, I flipped through them for the billionth time when Hughes suddenly sat straight up in his seat, as if he was a meerkat on alert. He opened the window, much to my annoyance as the smell of smog and city air filled the once sterile, recirculated train car air.

"Hey, Jo!" He called out, waving at someone in the crowd. Since it didn't seem whoever he was talking to noticed, Hughes got out of his seat. "Come on, Mac."

'Why must everything be an adventure?' I thought, putting the files and Lucha in my bag before I let Hughes drag me along. His clear hazel eyes focused on something up ahead, something I couldn't see being vertically challenged.

"Where we going this time?" When we finally broke out of the masses of people, the narrow street was full of people going to and fro in between shops. Peering over the crowd - Hughes was really tall by the way, not NBA tall but still up there - the man saw whatever he was looking for and dragged me along. "Hey, Hughes, be careful. I'm not a ragdoll." He never answered my question as we rushed up to a ratty looking apartment building, the front door closing slowly behind someone.

"Hey, Jo don't go running off like that-" He stopped as we entered the building, the reception room crawling with unfriendly characters. Taking back what I said earlier, I held his hand tighter and nervously stood behind him, as if that would hide me from the stares and faces. Hughes was quiet for a moment, before ducking his head slowly and heading towards the receptionist.

She was a shapely woman, her dark hair loose and curled. I had to do a double take to make sure it wasn't Lust. It wasn't, her skin a few shades too pale and her lips more of a rose pink than blood red. The woman was also chewing tobacco - something I couldn't begin to imagine Lust ever doing.

"You need something?" Her name tag read Rebecca.

Hughes was in civilian clothes for the train ride - he complained that the uniform was too stiff to sleep in. That was probably the only reason her first question wasn't about us being cops. Still, he had that...air around him, one that made you aware he meant business and wasn't one to dabble in the illegal. That might have been all it took here.

"Yes, that man who just came in, what's his room number?" Her black eyes looked us up and down, or at least they looked Hughes up and down. I was still hiding behind him.

"You guys are with the military, aren't you?" Oh, there was the cop question. What came next surprised both Rebecca and I. Hughes leaned forward, took her chin in his hand, and gave her peck, not to mention he slid a few cenz over the counter.

"Nope," He responded, pulling back and smirking at the woman's shocked expression. I half expected an enraged boyfriend or partner to kill us then and there. Rebecca's surprised expression morphed into one I could only define as impressed.

"Room 342, though he's never there." She said, blowing a kiss towards Hughes as we nodded and headed up the staircase. He turned to me sternly, glaring down at me as I let loose a giggle.

"Never, tell Gracia about that." I shoved him gently, an easy feat in the narrow stairwell. He gave a groan of worry, running a hand through his hair. I chuckled as we roamed through the quiet and dusty halls.

"Hey, you keep my secrets and I'll keep yours, capice?" He gave me that eyebrow wiggle of amusement that was followed by a short laugh.

"The words you use Mac, the words you use…" Sorry, I had forgotten my highschool Italian was showing. Would he have preferred angry German or unintelligible Irish Gaelic? I continued to argue this point against him in my head until I almost walked into him as he suddenly stopped at a door. The numbers 342 were carved into it, jagged and lopsided. "This is the place," He breathed, looking at the cracked ceiling for a moment.

"Um, Hughes, who are we chasing after? Who's Jo?" I asked, finally having a moment of peace to inquire about our sudden detour. The man lifted a hand to knock, glancing down at me for a moment.

"An old friend," He knocked three consecutive times as he said this. There was dull shuffle from within the room.

"Go away," A muffled voice whined, sounding almost annoyed with the interruption. I rolled my eyes, glancing at the clock. We were going to miss the train if we didn't hurry this up. I took a turn to rap on the door's thin wooden surface.

"Open the door, Jo. Hughes won't tell me who you are and we're going to miss the train-" The door opened, and my fist met the unfortunate face of whoever opened it. I instinctively closed my eyes for a moment, expecting a harsh response. "Sorry!"

When none came, and Hughes moved past me to embrace the person, I opened my eyes. The man looked absolutely disgusted with the hug, but didn't say anything. He was clean shaven, and his apartment looked well taken care of compared to the rest of the building. The man wore a pair of wire rimmed circular glasses, and his black hair was combed back neatly.

"Nice to see you again, Jo!" I looked back and forth between Hughes and the man - Jo I guessed his name was. "Mac, this is Jo - this is Mac, she and Elicia and Gracia get along so well, oh that reminds me, have you seen these new pictures of my little angel-"

"What do you want Hughes?" Jo grumbled angrily, walking inside the apartment. Hughes seemed offended, comically placing a hand over his heart and gasping.

"I just wanted to show you the new dress Elicia is wearing at her birthday party - you will be there won't you?" I was so confused. Who was Jo? Why was Hughes inviting him to the party? What was going on?

"If that's all then leave, I'm not going all the way to Central for the kid's party. I'll send her a card, okay?" Jo sat down on the ancient couch, dust flying up. I sneezed, bringing unwanted attention in my direction. "What's with the kid? She's not military - nevermind, just get out. Nice to see you again, but scram." Hughes ignored the request and sat next to Jo on the couch.

"Rude much," I said under my breath, checking the clock outside in the hallway once more. We were really going to be late. "Hey, Hughes, let's get going -" He and Jo were talking in hushed voices on the couch, Hughes' hazel eyes sharp and cold in the dim light. I hung my head as the minutes ticked away.

Who was Jo anyways? I decided to find out, sitting in a soft armchair and eavesdropping. However, I was rather bad at eavesdropping despite my acting skills, so Hughes immediately brightened up after I sat down.

"Mac, have you ever seen a chimera?" I shook my head, swatting at Lucha's own as he tried to escape the bag - I didn't want him getting lost in this building. "Come on, Jo wants to show you his lab!" I tilted my head to the side, thinking...chimeras...Jo…

"Johann Adlersflügel?" I asked, looking to the two men for an explanation. "What's going on Hughes? Why the secret agent sneaky stalker stuff? Who is Jo in relation to my existence beyond a possible target of a serial killer?" The man just laughed, Jo looking embarrassed for him.

"Jo's my little brother," Hughes finally said, giving Jo a 'noogie' as my brother Matt would give my younger brother Aiden.

"By three minutes."

"Doesn't matter, you're still younger."

It was going to take a while to process this information. I knew my existence would screw things up, but a whole new person introduced to the story? Not to mention Hughes didn't have a twin canonically! Ugh, I really needed to talk with Truth. Something besides these new revelations was bothering me.

"If you two are twins, why is Johann's last name different?" I asked, trying not to let my disbelief bleed into my words. They were nothing alike; except maybe in their build and face, but Johann's eyes were a shade or two lighter and he had less facial hair.

"I'll tell you some other time, but seriously you have to see his lab - Jo's a bit of a nerd," Hughes said, dragging me out of the apartment as Jo followed, a small smile of amusement twitching his lips as I nearly tripped over Hughes going down the narrow staircase.

Rebecca waved as we left the building, blowing another kiss at Hughes who flushed with embarrassment. Johann led us through the streets, not any less busy than they were earlier. We had been walking for only a few blocks when a clock somewhere in town rang twelve times.

"Hughes, we missed the train." I said anxiously, reaching into my bag and hauling out Lucha. He nipped at my fingers, reminding me it was past his lunch time. Having no food to give him, I simply held him in the crook of my arm until he stopped squirming and watched the passing hordes in a silent assessment of his next meal. Not that he could actually eat a person, he just liked to think he could.

"We'll get one tomorrow." I looked at him in horror.

"You expect me to sleep in there? In that crappy hotel?" I asked softly, noticing to my dismay that Johann had overheard me. He didn't say anything, only momentarily glancing at me before purposefully walking faster. Hughes looked down at me, a smile on his face.

"Yep," I groaned, but did not further comment - I didn't want to offend Johann more than I already had.

We finally came to run down storage facility of sorts, the hot afternoon sun beating down on us as Johann fiddled with the key to open the heavy metal doors. Without air conditioning, it was going to be an oven in there. I had realized air conditioning units had not been invented yet at the grocery shop - the beans went bad after only a few days in the excessive heat of the back room.

However, upon stepping into the dark building, i discovered it to be pleasantly cool. The air was moist, bringing my thoughts to mold, but I had no time to dwell on that possibility as Lucha spasmed inside my bag, sneezing up a storm. It seemed to make Johann nervous.

"What kind of cat is that?" He asked with a weak laugh as we trailed through the empty corridors. This place was almost as bad as Command in its labyrinth's complexity.

"The kind that's a ferret." I responded quietly, a stiff smile finding its way to my face.

Why was this so awkward? He was just some guy. Well, a guy who wasn't supposed to be involved in the story. But who knew? Maybe this happened all along and it was just never shown? For the first time since I arrived here, I honestly didn't have a clue to my next move.

I didn't even know if he was a friend or a foe. Sure, Hughes trusted him enough - but Johann was his brother, and it wouldn't be surprising for a betrayal or two to surface. And from the sounds of it Johann and Maes weren't exactly the closest or most in touch brothers.

"A what?" Johann asked, small snort of laughter. I scowled in his general direction as we stopped at a large metal door with a padlock.

"It's a weird fuzzy snake, what's it to you?" I growled back in response as Hughes' brother unlocked the door.

"Keep it in the bag, you don't want one of these guys catching it." The clean shaven man said, flipping a light switch to illuminate the large room. There were fours cages, each big enough for a big dog to live in.

But instead of Irish Wolfhounds and American Staffordshire Bull Terriers there were large, strangely marked cats. Their fur came to hard scale like formations, as if they had been caked in mud. Their eyes too, were strange. They were slitted beyond normal, and sat higher up on the animal's skull. The skull itself was elongated, stretching beyond a normal length as if it had been run over by a steamroller.

"I'm seeing crocodilian and big cat cross - what are they?" I asked, standing a good distance from the cages. Two cages held one of the cat-croc chimeras each. Both paced anxiously back and forth, one giving a gargled growl, snarling and hissing at our arrival. The other two cages separated four smaller chimeras, two in one and two in the other. The smaller chimeras were sleeping, or dead, from the looks of it. The floors of the cages were littered with straw for bedding.

"I made them from - you guessed it - a crocodile and a lynx." Johann said, walking over to a desk and avoiding the large circles of chalk on the floor. Hughes had wandered over to one of the cages, whistling at the sleeping baby chimeras.

"Where did you find a lynx this big?" I asked. The animals were longer than I was tall, and could easily take down a man with their sheer weight and muscle.

"The size is from the crocodiles - there's a river in the desert area between Xing and Amestris that's crawling with them. Longer than cars!" I nodded, not recalling a riving in the desert but deciding to blame it on my lack of extensive study.

It would have been nice if I had at least gotten a warning before being whisked away into a world of hellfire and cold baths.

"So, I'm not expert in alchemy, or biology, but why would you combine a reptile with a mammal? One lays eggs and the other gives birth to live young - not to mention the chromosomal difference that would make the sex cells all mixed up. Wouldn't it have been easier to at least use animals within the same class, or even the same family to make it a bit easier for them to reproduce." I inquired, looking over the chimera before me. It was one of the adults, but it lay still as it watched me with its flickering gold and green eyes. Behind me Johann gave a short chuckle of amusement.

"That would be no fun, besides, if it was possible to do with two entirely different classes, then it is possible to mate pairs within the class." I gave a vague nod, still entranced by the chimera's rainbowed eyes. They really were beautiful.

"Let me get this straight - you risked your life and career to get some crocs, managed to find some lynxes from who knows where, and instead of making hybrids or something to experiment with first, you put all of your resources, time, and effort into an experiment that could have gotten your killed or been a fruitless waste of time." Johann nodded, Hughes cracking a smile in my direction.

"You can see why we aren't quite as, well, in touch as we should be." Hughes said, one of the baby chimeras stumbling over to him and letting out pathetic squeaks and mewls.

"So, what are you doing for this year's assessment?" I asked, feeling queasy at the thought of Mr. Tucker's chimera. Johann flipped through some documents on his overflowing and cluttered desk.

"I plan on breeding one of the lynx-crocodiles with a different chimera. It should be possible, I just need to make the new chimera and test my research." I looked up, the thought of Nina and Alexander resurfacing.

"What kind of chimera?" I asked, careful not to step on the large transmutation circles on the floor. Another thing I never really understood - how the hell could a human being draw such a perfect circle?

"I''m thinking maybe a mammal with an amphibian? Or maybe another reptile, I plan on going to Xing and seeing their frogs - if I could cross one of those with a bear maybe or one of the wolves up north it'd have an interesting result." I looked at the sketches of the possible chimeras Johann had drawn.

Unlike I, the man was one hell of an artist. The animals looked as if they had jumped out of the pages of a fantasy book, with tails and scales and manes and claws, but they were so realistic they almost looked as if they'd bite you for getting too close.

As if on cue with that thought, Hughes shrieked and fell back from the cage, the small chimera hissing and rolling instinctively, but the frightened man managed to snatch his hand out of the beast's death grip.

"You going to make it Maes? Should we buy you a new hand at Walm- I mean at the general store?" I asked sarcastically, though I really was concerned if he was hurt. Judging by the lack of puddling blood and pained screams, it couldn't be that awful.

"My hand will be fine Mac," The older man huffed, holding his injured hand to his chest before feigning a mortal wound. "But your words have injured my heart beyond repair, tell Gracia that I'm sorry, and tell my angel Elicia daddy loves her."

I felt my heart squeeze in my chest and the blood drain from my face. Those were pretty close to his last words. Neither of the brothers seemed to notice my miniature panic attack, Johann rolling his eyes and neatening up his desk as far as it could be neatened and his older brother doubled over from a fake wound and real laughter. These two were going to drive me nuts.

Back at the hotel, I drank whatever milk Johann had in the icebox (I had called it a refrigerator when we first got back and no one seemed to understand what the hell I was talking about). I called the couch, since there was only one bed and I didn't want to force either of them to sleep in the old armchair that looked as if it had a family of rats inside of it.

The couch turned out to be a big mistake. The couch was always shifting under my weight, and the dust from it kept me constantly prepared for an eruption of coughing and hacking. On another note, the walls were thin as paper, and I could hear the neighbor doing someone, which wasn't helping my inability to get any sleep.

Johann was going to be an interesting character if he was going to be involved. He could confuse the homunculi if he decided to show up in Central, but that could put him in danger. Johann and Maes didn't seem to get along well, and from the sounds of it he had cut himself off from the family with his work, which meant he had little to lose beyond his own life if he did get involved.

You see, I really wanted to tell someone about what I knew. It was starting to eat me alive. I would see the characters, now flesh and blood people, and just want to evacuate them all out of the country. Even random strangers I'd want to run up to and tell them to get out while they still could. Having the knowledge to change the future was overwhelming beyond belief.

And now, with people like Johann and Rebecca, I was starting to question why I was only planning to help a few people when I should have been running an underground railroad of sorts to get as many people out of Amestris before the Promised Day. If the guilt of not telling people the horrible fates that would inevitably catch up with them didn't kill me first, the strangers who were so ignorant to the oncoming shit storm might drive me insane.

"Truth, I need to talk to you, now," I whispered into the darkness, the shadows cast by the moon's light moving and twisting into shapes by the help of my imagination. "A sign, anything would be nice." I asked the darkness. Nothing came. No reply, not even Lucha bothered to wake up. He had gorged himself on a few biscuits Johann had in the apartment and passed out in sheer joy.

Disappointed, I laid back down slowly, careful not to stir up any dust that would send me into a spiraling asthma attack. Closing my eyes, I listened to the people making love next door, the argument over kids in the next room, and the quiet murmur of people downstairs as they discussed the upcoming drug sale next week on Hoadly street.

They were all living, breathing human beings. They had the potential to do good, bad, and act on instinct. They all knew more about how to ask for a beer than I knew how to not ask where the nearest Walmart was. And yet I knew more about their world than they ever would. It's a very lonely thing, knowledge. Very cold, very blunt, and very lonesome.

Masterlist

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #si/oc #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #bbb writes #bbb #bluebookbadger

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floweryfandomnerd · 7 years

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Truth of Memories - Chapter 1

“Meow” was the last thing Ed had expected to hear, standing outside the door to his room, hand on the doorhandle and ready to turn it. His hotel room. His hotel room where there were no brothers in giant suits of clanking armour to bring them in. What this meant, was that there was someone in his room - and for whatever reason, they’d brought a cat. A cat, on a stealth mission to kill him. Clapping his hands together (still stuck in that old habit) Ed couldn’t transmute - nor was there an automail arm to turn into a sword. Damn that habit, it’d get him killed someday. The knife strapped to his forearm, hidden under long sleeves, is what he had to rely on now. Letting it drop into his hand, Ed silently opened the door and entered his room. Hopefully undetected. Spotting the intruder, he swiftly wrapped his hands around the man’s neck, pointing the knife at his juggular. Digging in just a little, to get his point across. That was until he heard a click of fingers followed by the smell of slightly singed blonde hair - his slightly singed blonde hair to be exact. This was surprising, to say the least…

“Colonel?”

“Brigadier General, dammit Fullmetal!” The exclamation definitely made the Colonel sound annoyed, strange really - when he was the intruder. Perhaps it was the blatant disregard for the man’s promotion. Acknowledgement was all he asked (and didn’t receive from the testy young prodigy). There were three questions Ed had to ask, one: why was the colonel (like hell he was gonna appease the man and call him General - that’s not how their relationship works) in his hotel room in Creta, two: why had he stolen a cat and three: what the hell did he think he was doing to his hair? Slowly he raised the knife and asked again “What are you doing in my room, Colonel?”

“Hawkeye didn’t want a cat?” That excuse was absolute crap, and Ed knew it. Skeptical eyebrow raised, the knife dug in just a bit further. Mustang would be forced to reveal his true reasons, lest he be killed as some fake. Except, he refused to do just that. Life be damned, Roy’s ego wouldn’t suffer the embarrassment of admitting he got lost on a state visit, until in his loneliness he adopted a stray cat (despite being a dog person, though that rant belonged with the miniskirts and there were no women here). There were probably some officials looking for him - somewhere out there someone cared. And these people would not be holding a knife to his throat - hypothetically speaking. Clicking his fingers again, Roy decided Ed’s gaudy red coat (hadn’t they destroyed all of those? Why must the world make everyone with fashion sense suffer at such an abomination?) would be his next victim whilst creating an opportunity to make his move. Whilst he was flapping about trying to put out the fire, one hand grabbed Ed’s forearm, the other his upper arm as Roy flipped him, slamming him into the ground with the pipsqueak making a pained squeak. (Such a good joke warranted appreciation, acknowledgment even, and a silent chuckle).

“You really shouldn’t test me Fullmetal.” the bastard was smirking gloatingly as he put out the small flame and rubbed his fingers on his jacket. More like jackass. Wheezing out a “Could you at least tell me why you’re here, Colonel Bastard?”, Ed slowly pushed himself up on his elbows. That had really hurt. Roy may have ‘wandered’ into Ed’s room when the hotel manager told him where he was staying, he might’ve explained why he was there (cheapness, he didn’t have to pay if the room was Ed’s). Had there been no knife, he swore he’d have been civil. Brushing the matter aside, Roy Mustang (or Ron Mustard as he’d heard Ed call him once - he was certain Breda and Havoc had laughed at that, those traitors) began questioning “Anyway, why is your immediate response attempted murder? Could’ve been Al on a surprise visit, you know.” The stare - maybe glare was a better word - he was receiving from Ed spoke what the kid refused to.

He’d pissed off a bunch of gang members. How? Not much to wonder. Dude had a big mouth. That’d explain the paranoia, but knowing the details would be fun anyway, “So, what did you do? Evidently there are quite a few people who might be wanting to kill you…”

“Beat up a bunch of gang members,” Ed responded with a somewhat misplaced, nonchalant shrug “they were harassing a girl”. It was based on pure guesswork (and a negative assumption of Ed’s personality) yet something allowed his prediction to ring true - Roy applauded himself all the same. Those guys were probably out for revenge; it didn’t matter too much though - Ed could handle himself. Diverting the topic, Ed nodded towards the cat, “Anyway, we should at least take it to a shelter,” before walking out the door. Sticking his head back through when Roy failed to follow, as if to ask if he was actually coming. What was puzzling, was that Ed actually knew where a cat shelter was. Not once did he seem as though he didn’t know where he was going. Walking down unfamiliar streets, the only sounds Ed could hear were his own footsteps and Roy Mustang’s. The problem was the cat shelter was in that gang’s territory and from what he’d overheard - before they started hating him - they were trying to do something shady. Something about their boss man, the original had died and no one particularly liked the new guy. Sounded like there was going to be a mutiny soon. There’d been something else too, although he hadn’t quite caught that bit.

Zoned out inside his head, he’d almost walked past the shelter, before Roy grabbed him back by his collar and pointed. “Fullmetal, we’re here.” The woman behind the desk looked up at the chiming of the bell on the door, smiling brightly before it fell at the kitten she’d been brought. It must be depressing to see the animals coming to the shelter rather than leaving. Voice full of fake cheer, she asked “Sodel Pet Shelter, how may I help you? Judging by the kitten, I assume you’re here to put it in our care?” as they nodded, adding on “Do you know if it’s up to date with vaccinations?” a shake of a head, “Okay, is it male or female?” once again the two showed they knew nothing. Her tone was starting to grow somewhat exasperated, “Fine, do you at least know what it responds to? Its temperament, for example did it bite you at all?” Roy shook his head, hesitantly answering “No, it’s really nice and uh, I named it Sparky Sparky Boom Man…” Underneath the woman’s death stare he shifted uncomfortably, whilst Ed was laughing uncontrollably. Roy shoved the cat into the woman’s hands and all but dragged Ed outside the store. The kid would be laughing at him forever, he’d never live it down.

Abruptly, Ed’s laughing stopped at the sudden sound of shattering windows in the distance. Waiting only a second, Ed sprinted off in the direction of the sound. Evading Roy’s hand as he tried to grab him, he was headed straight for whatever danger. Roy swore then ran after him, slowing when he saw that it was just a kid who’d been playing football. It had just been a solider’s instinct that led them to believe it was dangerous after all. Pointing to inside the building but shaking his head when talking to Ed, the kid looked reluctant (scared even) to go in. Crouching down Ed ruffled the kid’s hair and turned to go in the building. Lost, Roy followed him to retrieve the ball that had obviously broken the window and to back him up if the owner of the building got mad. Going inside, Roy looked down at the floor to find it, noticing not the ball but something else; a chalk circle etched out on the ground with some materials in the middle, people sitting around - Roy watched as Ed’s attention snapped away from the focus of the ball when he entered the circle. He’d been distracted by looking for the ball, moving too late to escape the circle before its activation. Hearing only faintly Roy’s scream of “FULLMETAL!” before it rebounded on him and those in the circle.

For the fifth time in his - so far short - life, Ed stood in a white wasteland. A void. He could no longer call it the portal of truth, that door to him had long been shut, yet still the entity which he knew as Truth (or the world or the universe or God, it was all, it was one, it was also him) was presented before him. It spoke in that echoing voice, addressing him once more as “Alchemist”. Wary of the creature, Ed considered the toll he’d have to pay. Perhaps he’d once again be missing his right arm or maybe he’d lose his ability to walk. There were many things he could lose, he supposed all he could do was ask. “Alchemist, you believe in the concept of equivalent exchange? Correct?” Ed nodded, to him everything had a fair price. “You did not open the portal. Therefore you’ll pay no toll for that. However, you’ll need a way to leave this place.” It grinned at him, smiling unsettlingly. The being almost seemed to take pleasure in what it did next. Yes, it would certainly be interesting to watch this one. Truth’s duty was to observe the humans, it had always known the truth of alchemy, it was yet to learn the truth of humans.”So, you must pay some toll to leave - you require the portal and you must get it back”

Truth be told, Ed didn’t really feel like losing anymore limbs - he could still see his left leg which he’d paid before (was it 7 years ago?) - but he had to pay the toll. The unnatural grin widened further as it spoke once more, echoes resounding to remind what was taken, “There are other tolls you know - it doesn’t have to be a limb”. Yes, this would be interesting for Truth to observe “Alchemist, you can pay with memories”. Time to take in what was taken was not given to him as the portal once again appeared before him. Shadowy hands dragging him through closing stone doors, unable to push against them.

When he woke up on the ground of an unfamiliar building, he did not recognise the black-haired man shaking his shoulder nor the name “Fullmetal” that he was calling. All he knew was confusion at the terrified look on the man’s face when he asked the simple question “Who’s Fullmetal?”

#dailyfma #fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist fanfiction #truth of memories #this seems so much longer on mobile than on computer #mobile tricks you into thinking you were actually productive #word count: approximately 1800 #my writing

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