#arc: amestris no more

[alchemic-elric]

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ God damn he hates this fuckin' place. He's been walking for what feels like ages and he doesn't have a goddamn clue where he is. This whole fuckin' place can go to fuckin' hell for all he cares. Nothing makes sense here and it's a still all just endless stretches of fuckin' DIRT. Worst of all of it, he doesn't have a fuckin' clue where Alphonse is because the dumb bastard manages to get his ass separated from him.

Now they are both aimlessly wandering this hell hole and neither one knows where the other is. A loud groan leaves him as the blond reaches both hands up to tug at his hair while the groan drags out in frustration. This was fuckin' stupid.

He just wanted to go home or to see a familiar fuckin' face. He just wanted to find his damn brother and he swears to high hell if he ever gets stuck in a place like this ever again so fuckin' HELP HIM -

This was like Liore all over again!!

"ALLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!"

All he can hear is his own voice echoing out and then back to him. A lotta fuckin' good that did. Who knows where that fuckin' tin can was? Nothing makes sense in this damn place. He is tired. He is hungry and he wants to fucking sleep. He's been out in this fuckin' heat longer than he cares to remember and he hasn't seen hide or hair of anyone he could talk to for who knows how long?!

This was bullshit.

Where is his goddamn brother? He's been here so long he's lost track of the time. He swears if he ever makes it home he won't call the Colonel a jackass for a whole week when they're at work. A whole week he promises.

Just send a face he knows. Anyone. Anyone would do. He's so sick of being out here alone.

Alphonse has to be around here somewhere. He couldn't have fallen that far could he?

[symphonicsoul]

( @justaradioguy has a request) ->

It's nighttime again, and much like other nights he's spent here, he is wide awake.

He is creeping through the halls of the Comodeen, searching for Kumo - his room is around here somewhere, he's pretty sure. Chicken leads the way, showing him exactly where he needs to go to find the Misterican. Has the bird wandered over here before?

Kain knocks lightly on the door, determined to tell Kumo something almost unusually significant. He's made up his mind.

"Hi," he greets, leaning on his cane more once the door swings open. "I... I hope I'm not bothering you since it's kinda late, but I wanted to wait until you weren't busy to ask if maybe you'd call me Kain from now on? It's my first name, and... I dunno. I like it, I guess. You don't have to, though."

It's late and for the first time in a while, he's managed to crawl back into the depths of the Comodeen to the room that is allotted just for him. Miss Lyssa isn't here despite her being the only one of present company that he's told where it was. It wasn't like the members of the Comodeen who live here didn't know which room was his though. Someone could have easily directed his present company.

And the look on his face when the door slid open and there stood Herra Fuery with Chicken in tow. It's late and the Misterican had currently lost himself within the space of the new book that he'd been gifted form Miss Lisa for his birthday. He can only assume those beloved twins of his hand let it slip to her. He's curled up under a pile of blankets that have been collected over time with the image of a rainbow of tones peeking out from under the all, resting just over his chest.

"Hi." The Amestrian greets and he's only met with raised brows and the swordsman scooting himself over to make room should the other wish to use it, and then there is a request. A change - a change of address. He wishes for him to address him by his first name instead of the formality of his last.

"Herra Fu - no no you're not bothering me. Please come in." He sounds stopping himself short, as he lays his hand flat palm to his mattress and pats down against it as if to offer a seat. "Are you having trouble sleeping again? My door is always open to you."

Jade eyes drop to the floor, to the small orb of black feathers and he smiles. "You too, Little One. Did you bring him to me because he was upset? Kiitos ystäväni."

Slowly do slender hands work to slip a blue and white bookmark into the tome within them. The cover falls closed and it's moved to rest on his lap. They're surrounded. Unburnt candles and books in multiple different languages. There is a long plush that resembles a dragon laying along the side of bed that is shoved against the wall. The Maken is leaned up against the wall by the head of his bed and there is a circular rug in the center of the floor made of differing shades of blue.

"I will call you whatever you desire me to, Kain. It is your name. You get to decide how you are addressed. Come set with me... and our Little Friend too of course. Please come have a set and tell me what's on your mind.... because your name wasn't the only thing bothering you, was it? You have my ear, what's on your mind?"

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ The floors are polished marble and the walls are tall pillars of a similar stone. Everything around him is white or faded grey and it works to make a deary environment that sends a shiver up his spine. There is something about that familiar sound of how the liquid working through the pipes in the wall flows that makes the airs on his neck stand on end.

He's not safe here and he never will be. He knows this place. He knows the feel of it. He knows the sound of it and he knows the smell of it and it smells like anything but safe. It smells like a faint distant rot that is not unlike the living despair that lurks just below the surface of the lands like a polluted water source.

It smells like death.

"I've had quite enough of this." A voice sounds and he knows it well even if he cannot place the owner's face. "This insolence you insisting on and your constant rebellion. You think you would have learned by now."

The voice continues and he knows full well he needs to be ready for the strike. That putrid little brat won't hesitate to snatch him up and the swordsman doesn't know which direction to prepare himself for when he cannot place a face to that damnable purring.

He knows it's coming. He knows that little demon will send out whatever he needs to retrieve his pet. Will it come from behind? Right before him? The left? The right? It doesn't matter. He's never fast enough to get away. Even with all the speed he possesses, somehow that viper will snatch him right out of the sky as he always does.

As such his heart is thudding in his chest. He can't go back there. He can't go back and he won't. How he ever ended up in this wretched castle, he'll figure out later but he will die before he -

Everything is so red.

The lights bleed crimson and the only thing he can do is lift his arm to cover his face so the hue itself doesn't infect his vision.

The snap is so fast he hears it too late and his entire body is squeezing before he has a chance to escape it. The feeling of his arms digging into his sides as he writhes in his captor's hold only for jade vision to finally crack open and be met with a face that is not the one he was expecting but yet somehow finds his stomach twisting all the same.

"Finally you can come home, My Precious Little Cloud. You ran off on me so quickly, I was afraid I'd never find you again, My Darling."

He feels sick as those slightly older pale blues practically pierce into through him. He's frozen even as a second tendril rises to take the Maken from his back and a third is rising and inching in ever closer.

"You know the rules though, don't you my pet? For every hour you're away from my side - " There's a pause as the anarchist shifts their from side to side for a moment before pale lips stretch out in a wild grin. "- well I suppose I'll just take out of your flesh."

And that third tendril is at his throat faster than he can blink. He's choking. His voice has been reduced to that of panicking whimpered squeaks. He can't speak and he can't even scream. He can't thrash. He can't move and it's pulling so hard that he's scared that it might -

He wakes with a jerk, hand reaching up to press against his throat. His body is shaking as his chest rises and falls as he's just ran a marathon. He's okay. He's okay but for how long?

Anarchy already had him once and Gaudium just - just nearly -

He's not safe here. Neither of them are. They need to move but if Eversti stays with him it is only going to make matters -

'He has to be around here somewhere.'

The sound of voices is flooding into his ears and the Misterican does everything in his power to will himself to a stop so he can listen.

'You saw the way that forest was messed up. It had to be him.' 'Yeah but do you really want to mess with that?' 'We need to bring him back to His Excellency so we can get rewarded.' 'Maybe we'll get lucky and find him sleeping. Even if he is a beast, he has to sleep right?' 'We have to find him before that man in blue does.' 'We can't let anyone steal our mark.

Gaudium isn't going to quit and now that he's shown his face in that village that means the villagers were likely tempted to help with talk of the bounty. They -

Jade moons are shifting over the sight of one Amestrian man fighting to stay away and a dying fire that is sinking down to embers. If he's quiet then -

Slowly he's rising from the ground, trying his best to get to his feet but he's still a bit dizzy and he's hungry but that's going to have to wait. Everything in his bag would shift around too loudly if he took it and besides Eversti will need the things left inside....

He doesn't have the strength to fly right now, let alone float, so he'll just have to tip toe as quietly as possible to try to -

crack

-the sound of a twig is snapping beneath his feet and he finds himself freezing in place when it does. Hopefully that didn't wake Eversti up.

As White Cloud spoke, he painted a picture of his teachers. They began to form in Roy’s mind, albeit vaguely since the only Misterican he knew was White Cloud. Still, the painting started with one Misterican, Aamunkoitto, with vibrant pink hair and eyes. Next came a Misterican named Valo who taught history and language, his Mist and hair a pale orange. Palo followed, bright yellow in color that might have matched the explosions she made, and she was responsible for the masks—the sumi—suman—sumunaamio. 

The language was not easy for Roy to put together even in his mind. What was learning other languages like for White Cloud? A question for later. 

Sielu came next, a chaotic genius—they sounded similar when it came to energy levels. Roy knew his own energy levels could be through the roof on some days while he catnapped the next. He also sounded like he defended his charge—was that the right word for what White Cloud was to him? How did that work? Another question for later. Teachers for royalty, specifically someone of White Cloud’s status, had to work differently. Either way, Sielu was a vibrant blue, likely different from the uniforms Amestrians wore. 

Those weren’t lively at all. Opposite, in fact.

Sydän and Kukka were both purple, and that indeed filled the entire rainbow. The subjects all of these Mistericans covered too… they clearly cared for the arts more than the Amestrian government did. Art, dance, music… subjects like that rarely saw the light of day in public schools. He only learned it thanks to his sisters and Madame Christmas. 

White Cloud dozed off, and Roy smiled. It was more than all right that he fell asleep. He needed the rest. At least he fell asleep talking about a pleasant subject, right? Perhaps he could dream about a time that wasn’t Wonderland and the despair that plagued this place. His teachers could surround him in his dreams, talk to him, and they would not know the horrid future that awaited them. Everything would be fine. 

When he woke, perhaps Roy could tell White Cloud what his life was like. That was what friends did, right? They shared those sorts of things with one another. Surely White Cloud wouldn’t balk at the sort of upbringing he had in comparison. He wasn’t like the snot-nosed upperclass military officials back in Amestris who heard his name and scoffed. If he told his new friend who raised him and where…

She shouldn’t hear a soft pitter-patter of tiny feet. Yet, the sound was unmistakable as she turned her heel to scan her bar. Despite attempts from the source of said pitter-patter to hide, he couldn’t get behind a barrel in time. Chris shook her head and sighed. 

"Roy, what did I tell you about coming into this part of the bar? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"You're not asleep." He didn’t bother hiding anymore. A pair of onyx eyes stared up at her as he dared to utter that statement, a small pout formed on his lips. The Madame placed her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrow. Roy couldn't tell if she didn't immediately reply due to the fact he was right. Probably. The sigh that left her lips, heavy as the boxes of liqueur she handled on a daily basis, didn't sound like she conceded. No, the fact that she began to walk towards him, her heels clacking against the old wooden floor as she did, told him he miscalculated. Just for that, he planted his feet where he stood while his lips formed into a pout. 

"We've talked about this," she said as she moved toward him, "I work at night while you sleep."

"No quiero."

"Amestrian, Roy." It was his turn to sigh, the sound long and clearly exaggerated as he tilted his head back and stomped his feet. "C'mon."

"I don't wanna."

"Good. But, you still needta. We all have to do things we don't want to." She put her hand on his back as she began to usher him out of the room. "Get to bed and sleep. You've got school tomorrow. Don't let me catch you skipping again."

"But I already know everything they're teaching."

"Do you now?" Roy barely heard her as he stomped up the stairs to their apartment. Why was she so surprised? Again, he sighed.

"I read all the books in the classroom already. And the ones in the two grades above me. The math is too easy. All the lessons are. No one else gets it. I'm so bored."

Of course he was. Why did he need to have this argument right now? Because he was six years old and didn’t want to go to sleep, she supposed. No one told her she would be parenting a child, much less one too smart for his own good. She suppressed another sigh as she followed him up the stairs and to his room. If she didn’t follow him all the way, he would follow her straight back down to the bar, and she knew it. 

“Then I’ll talk to your teachers about it, all right? Right now, though, you need to sleep. So sleep, Roy.”

“Uuuuuugh. Fine.” Another loud, dramatic sigh left him as he flopped onto his bed face first. Well, if that was how he wanted to sleep, then she wasn’t about to try and argue with him. He was stubborn through and through. 

“Goodnight.”

“G’night, Má.”

Catherine got to the bar early on weekdays. She didn’t have to. Madame Christmas even told her as much. However, her reasons for coming early soon arrived in the form of two chattering children, one of them louder than the other. She could hear him almost a block away. 

“‘Nessa, it’s not that bad. I’m fine!”

“It looks swollen. I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.”

“Don’t you dare tell Má about it. She’ll make a big deal about it.”

“How are you gonna hide it from her? It’s on your face.”

“I’ll think of something.”

All right, now Catherine had to admit she was curious what these two were talking about. The second Roy and Vanessa walked into the bar proper, though, she didn’t need to ask. Vanessa was right: the black eye on Roy’s face looked swollen and awful. He gulped as soon as he felt her gaze on him, but he didn’t move from his spot next to Vanessa—so brave for a ten year old who only came up to her waist. Catherine knelt down in front of both of them before she put a gentle hand to Roy’s cheek. 

“What happened, mi pequeño mirlo?” He winced at her touch and looked to the floor. 

“Nothin’,” he muttered, “S’not a big deal. I’m fine.”

“Well that’s a lie.” She moved her hand away. “You got in another fight, didn’t you?”

“No. Because the Madame said not to.”

Therein lied the problem. Roy didn’t want to get in trouble with his mother for getting into a fight that he clearly didn’t win, and Catherine was the Madame’s best employee. The black eye wasn’t the only sign he lost. Catherine noticed how his clothes seemed more torn than normal, and he held his arms close to his chest with some labored breathing. Then, there was his hair—someone had definitely yanked on it. Oh, this child didn’t know how to defend himself, did he? Vanessa didn’t either. Children at this age shouldn’t have to, but this wasn’t the first time Roy came home with bruises or scrapes because he got into a fight with someone. 

She needed to do something. 

“I won’t tell her,” she told him. Both eyebrows on his face rose. “I’m going to do something else. Come with me, you two.” With that, she stood at her full height and started walking toward the back entrance of the bar. 

“What are you doing?” Oh, she had Roy’s curiosity now. That counted for a lot. 

“I’m teaching you both how to defend yourselves. No one hurts my Royboy and gets away with it.” The three of them reached the back alley behind the bar. Catherine closed the door behind them. 

“But the Madame–” Vanessa chimed in. Catherine quickly cut her off.

“Will understand. I’m not teaching you to fight. I’m teaching you to defend yourselves. All right?” She didn’t have to turn around to see the grin on Roy’s face. It had to hurt to do that, but he still did it.

“Yes, Ma’am.” His reply earned a grin from her as well, one she didn’t allow him to see.

“That’s my boy. Let’s get started.”

“Hold still, Roy. I’m not done yet.”

At Madeline’s command, Roy didn’t move an inch—well, at least not his left hand. His right hand held a pen that he had to stop himself from chewing on the end of at least three times already. A piece of paper sat in front of him, a letter of some sort written in the Madame’s writing. Madeline paid it no mind as she sat next to him, her focus solely on painting the final coat of a navy blue nail polish onto his nails. 

“I like this color on you. It brings out your eyes.”

“You think so?” Roy looked away from his letter for a second to meet Madeline’s gaze, both eyebrows up. She smiled at him and nodded. “I was a little nervous about it. But, I trust you.”

“He can learn!” Both of them chuckled before Madeline closed up the nail polish. “Okay, same rules as last time: let it dry. Otherwise, you’ll have to redo it yourself. I’m not doing it.”

“All right all right.” Still, Roy listened and laid out his hand flat on the table. His stare returned to the piece of paper. “Did Má give you any hints on this cipher? I’m stumped.”

“Even if she did, I’m not allowed to help you. But, I have a tip for you.”

“What?” He looked up again.

“Have some patience. It’s okay if you don’t instantly understand how it works.”

“I don’t do well with patience.”

“Gee, I never would’ve guessed.” Madeline rolled her eyes. “The fact that I had to redo your right hand twice says that pretty well.”

“Well I think third time’s the charm.”

“Mhmm. Love you too, Roy.”

A little more than two weeks passed since he returned home from Ishval, one bag over his shoulder. Yet, as he sat on his bed, it felt like he aged a decade since he disembarked the train in Central Station. The passage of time made little sense. His room still resembled what it looked like when he was a teenager with alchemy books and jeans that were a few inches too short. His mind flitted between the present and days marked by explosions, screams, and desert sand. The Madame didn’t know whether or not to hold him like a child to her side or speak to him like an adult with grown-up words. When was he right now? Now? When was now? The war was over, and he was home, but home didn’t… it didn’t feel right. 

How did he even begin to explain that when he couldn’t even speak? He knew he frustrated the Madame. She expected her verbose son, and, while she understood why he couldn’t speak back, it had to hurt that she got something different. It didn’t help that he knew he’d get his new assignment any day now. He needed to be able to speak when that time came. For fuck’s sake, he was a Lieutenant Colonel now. He not only needed to speak, but he needed to be able to lead. 

Was Hughes dealing with all this hell? Or, was he putting on a smile for Gracia? The two of them, two suns orbiting each other, were incredibly alike, yet they couldn’t be more different. Roy couldn’t be bothered to smile for anyone. 

A quiet knock sounded on his door. It wasn’t the Madame based on the volume, and it was too hesitant to be Hughes or Hawkeye. Who else knew he lived here? Slowly, the door creaked open and revealed Lillian. What was she doing here? Wasn’t she supposed to be—oh, he saw the Madame standing in the hallway before she closed the door. That answered one question while a few more took its place. They were easy ones to answer: would Lillian try to pry his voice out of him like everyone else? Was she here purely on reconnaissance? Or, did she come out of the kindness of her heart? 

She stood next to his bed as her head tilted to the side. Her hands raised, and they began to move to sign. 

“Can I sit next to you?” Not a word left her lips. Keeping with the same mode of communication, Roy raised one hand to sign back. He could do that.

“Yes.” Slowly, she sat down on his bed with him. Roy waited until she made herself comfortable before he continued signing. “Madame Christmas sent you?”

“Not really.” Lillian shrugged before she continued. “I knew when you came home, but I wanted to give you space. I knew a lot of people wanted to see you.”

“Well, here I am. Exciting isn’t it?” He rolled his eyes, a gesture Lillian clearly didn’t appreciate as she shook her head. “No? What do you want then?”

“Just to talk to you, Roy. That’s all.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”

“Yes. And it’s more than what you’ve been doing with everyone else.” A frown formed on thin lips. She hadn’t wanted to get to this part of the conversation right yet, but it seemed the time for pleasantries was long over. “The Madame is worried about you. You’re not talking to her.”

“So she sent you in her place.”

“I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to give you space, Roy. I know what it’s like to come home from war.” Her frown deepened as brown eyes glared. “But, when Madame Christmas told me you weren’t talking to anyone, much less her, I had to do something. Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Whatever you want.”

“It’s not that easy, Lillian.” His brows furrowed, a clear sign of frustration. “Just go tell Madame Christmas I’m fine.”

“I’m not going to lie to your mother.”

“Fine. Then you know what you can answer for me?” His hand movements grew more aggressive. Lillian, though, expected this sooner or later. She nodded her head and gestured with one hand for Roy to continue. “When does it get better? When do I stop feeling like shit for coming home and surviving?”

“You don’t.” She shook her head. “I wish I could tell you otherwise, Roy, but I can’t. I still have nightmares. I have times when I can’t do anything other than lie in bed. If the military didn’t force me to leave, I would’ve done so voluntarily because it was just too much. I don’t remember what my own voice sounds like… and it hurts. Some days are just easier than others to get through.”

“What made it easier?”

“Having people be there for me. You and Madame Christmas and everyone else taking the time to learn Amestrian Sign Language with me made me not feel alone. You were all there for me more than my real family. That’s all I really wanted: someone there. When my mind was dragging me back to the front lines, I had people bringing me back to the present. I had you telling me about your day and trying to find ways to make me smile. I had Catherine to talk to about the harder stuff that you were too young to understand. It didn’t make all of it go away, but… it was something.”

“But what if I can’t talk?”

“You don’t have to talk.” Again, she shook her head. “Madame Christmas doesn’t understand because she’s never been in an active war zone, and you’re her son. She didn’t understand that you weren’t going to be the same when you came home.”

“I don’t think anyone does.” He let out a sigh. “I feel like… I’m not all here, but I’m supposed to be. And I’ll be getting my new orders soon too.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yeah… I am.”

“It’s okay to be. You’re allowed to be scared, Roy.” 

His hands dropped to his sides as her words sunk in. Onyx eyes welled up with water, dousing the last of his anger. As she saw it happen, Lillian opened up her arms. He arrived there in seconds, his arms wrapped tightly around her while he buried his head in her shoulder. 

Nothing else needed to be said. 

[alchemic-elric]

@lilhub asked:

💭 + Hey Edward. Whaddaya think of Cloud Puff?(for Wonderland Ed) Also. How did you even end up here?

"Sugar Cube? I dun't know what ta think'a'im yet. 'e's fuckin' weird though. I mean I dinn't know Fuery was in'ta guys... 'er aliens but sure I guess. Whatev'r makes'im happy. I ain't really got much'ta say 'bout the guy when some shit went down n' 'e told us ta run.... then the next thing I know Fuery was callin' the shots n' 'e was draggin' 'e behind'im. Then we met a couple'a tall fuckers n' I still don't know what ta think'a them either.

N' this place? Wonderland? Is that what we're callin' it now? Well it's just as fucked up as it is in that book so I guess it makes fuckin' sense that way. I don't 'member how I fuckin' got 'ere though. Al n' I were downtown n' then some fuckin' where along the way I blacked the fuck out n' woke up in this hellhole. Sure like ta know what the fuck is goin' on though. That'd be fuckin' great... n' where my goddamn brother is. Not knowin' where Al is, is really startin' ta piss m' off fer sure. That answer yer question?"

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ "Herra Breda." He sounds in a casual tone, no form of malice to be found. "You don't need to stand in the hall. You can come in. I'd like to explain this to both of you so I don't need to repeat myself if you would be so kind."

His ears are too sharp to have missed the sound of the other's movement and since he is explaining the Maken and all that has happened he really would much prefer to not have to explain the quirks of this world twice.

So he waits until the man appears again before he starts speaking. He understands that Herra Breda only has Herra Fuery's best interest in mind but he just thinks the fiery man could find a better way to go about it.

"Lovely." He starts with a pause as he lets his hands fold over the sword that rests upon his lap and a jaded colored gaze scrolls the room from one set of dark eyes to the next.

"Now then, to explain to you both where you are."

There is an emphasis on the word as he pauses again shifting his gaze between them just to make sure they're both engaged.

"You are currently in a building known as The Comodeen. This is a resistance group that helps to maintain order in this world. This world is a place known as Wonderland and it currently has no ruler. As Herra Breda already heard before on his trek through the villages here, it was once ruled by a man known as Earl Tyrant or simply The Earl but he has since died a year ago leaving Wonderland rulerless.

There are still remnants of his followers however, we refer to as the Gaudium Faction, and currently they are clashing with the Comodeen. If you ever run into a Gaudium supporter, I ask that you attempt to speak with them as little as possible as they tend be quite fanatical and potentially dangerous. The people who supported The Earl were dangerous folk. So I only ask you try to avoid engaging these people wherever possible."

There is a pause and a smile. A sigh for a moment as he gaze shifts to make sure both of them are following. This is a lot of information and he has already had this conversation with Miss Riza and Eversti more than once so he knows how difficult it was for them to take it all in and he doesn't want to bog down Herra Breda or Herra Fuery when he explains it all to them.

"Now Wonderland is a special sort of place that is made of what once was. I'm sure Herra Breda already experienced this and I know Herra Fuery had quite the run in with a Bandersnatch enough to know that there are beings here that are nothing like what you know on your Earth. Myself included.

Humans are not the dominant species here and there are many that carry a strong distaste for them or anyone who looks like them. This goes for beings like myself and my counterpart, Black Wind. While we both may appear human-esque in nature, neither of us are, so I ask that you please do your best to remember this. Black Wind's appearance is far more deceptive than my own however, I promise you, that man is full blooded Windarian and far from human."

He's shifting for the a moment to glance between them both before he gives them a smile with upturned brows.

"I just want you both aware of the circumstances. Wonderland can be a beautiful place but it can also be quite cruel as I'm sure you both have learned over these past weeks. It would be in your best interest to exercise caution if you should decide to venture out again. Just know that the Comodeen will always have a place for you, though I do not run it myself nor am I a member of it's group. If you'd like to speak who's in charge you'll need to speak to a man named Knave. I can introduce you, if you'd like."

Your senses are quite sharp.

In a less-serious situation, he would have laughed and explained his eyesight definitely is far from "sharp", but the laughter does not come. Instead, he has to listen to the end.

Lady Tiamat - his goddess, she exists in that blade. And somehow, she had not... hurt him, really. It had only been a light jolt, not unlike a minor shock he'd receive during his normal work.

If that isn't enough information, it turns out his new friend - Kumo, now, to him - is immortal so long as his blade remains unharmed and near his side.

What about the chip in the gem, then? Is it some weird aesthetic choice?

He doesn't feel up to asking right now. Instead, he only pulls Chicken into his arms to pet him and offer Kumo a small nod.

"You can trust me, yes. I'll make sure the Maken gets back to you, I promise," he replies. He'll endure the zapping if he needs to - he does not want Kumo to die again.

Again. Mustang killed him.

On accident.

"And- uh. You don't need to worry about me and the Colonel. He... I know it had to have been an accident. So- if you were worried about me getting mad or anything, I'm not."

Not about that, anyway. He has plenty of other reasons.

"He usually tries to use fire as a diversion, not an offense. Something had to have gone really wrong. I'm not mad at him over it, so there won't be a fight or anything. Thanks for... being honest. And sticking up for me. But Breda means well, he's just... kinda rough sometimes."

The lieutenant leans against the doorframe when he comes back, catching only the very last handful of sentences. Something about the Colonel, from the sound of it, and he finds himself agreeing with whatever assessment Fuery's making.

Roy isn't usually cruel with his flames. He has Hawkeye to actually take out most threats.

And at least this cloud guy seems to have Fuery's best interest in mind. At least Breda can agree with him on that front.

He moves from the doorway to just outside the room again. No point in interrupting.

[terroreigns]

Continued from [ X ]

...Well, now that was quite the unfortunate development.

The magician could only watch as the crevice in spacetime swallowed up the younger of the boys, screams cut short as his body was warped to an entirely different location. A twitch of gloved fingers signified an action withheld; The facade was firmly in place. For now, at least. A shift of displeasure somewhere within their very core, the deity of the wretched place known as Wonderland entirely unhappy about the setback.

"Told you so..." The man in dark sea-green muttered in dull monotone that somehow still conveyed irritation. The woman, who had since dismounted, elbowed him in the ribs and shook her head.

The remaining alchemist boy was frantic, gaze of gilded orbs darting between the ground and his candyfloss savior, latching onto their closest arm in open terror. The Troupemaster's brows angled in concern, before gloved hands seized the youth's shoulders and their posture stooped to bring their (already quite similar) heights closer together.

"Look, I'm going to need you to calm down now, as outrageous a request as that probably sounds like." The pink-haired man (or, at least, a being of a notably ambiguously gendered visage) spoke with a firm and grounding gentleness. Their voice was soft and smooth as silk, almost too flawless a tune to belong to a human. Then again, was anyone even human around these parts...? Wonderland had a tendency to gleefully disagree.

Familiarity was the kind of luxury not easily afforded in a puzzle of worlds, after all. And now, the boy's sole kin was whisked away between the cracks.

"I'll help you. I promise I will. But for now, we have to get out of here, lest we share his fate and get scattered every which way. Not a fan of that personally, as I'm sure you would agree. Come!"

The magician's hand found one of metal; A reminder of the child's part machine identity. Whatever had happened to render his limbs of flesh away from him...? A question that begged for an answer, but the being of Wonderland knew well not to inquire too hastily.

Almost as if on cue, a thin line crisscrossed the ground where Edward had stood just moments prior, snaking and writhing as reality itself struggled in vain to regain shape. The entire sector was unstable due to the influence of the great shattered beast, the Mind of which was now yelling for them to run as a handwatch clicked all over again, enveloping the merry band and the boy alike in a bubble of accelerated spacetime.

"Wow! Talk about immediately relevant foreshadowing!~" The person in pink giggled with a not insignificant degree of nervousness.

"Quickly! The connexon..!" The plantlike woman called out, a motion of her parasol causing vines to emerge from the soil and climb upwards rapidly, forming an improvised bridge that led back to the overlooking cliff.

There was another rift, far more stable than the flickering and spreading ones left below. This time, it led seamlessly to some strange black and red dimension, the ground beneath giving way to a smooth crimson surface.

It was only then that the group finally stopped running, the sound of panting and the occasional cuss overtaking the otherwise perfect silence of this strange inbetween. Were the boy to look over his shoulder, he would be met with the warped image of the sunless realm of fungi, quivering like the surface of a disturbed pond before it flickered out altogether, leaving a gaping chasm of nothingness where there once was land.

Like a wound upon the world, leading straight out into the depths of space. Somehow, physics seemed not to mind the sudden window into the vacuum. The particles of air were thankfully not too keen on being violently sucked out and taking everyone else with them. Now that would be quite the unsatisfying conclusion to the renowned Fullmetal's story.

"Wow, I sure am glad we're not dead!" the magician recovered their breath and promptly announced, in a tone far too perky for the situation at hand.

All was well that ended well - or so the rumors said.

[valtsv]

you like '03 fma better? i'll be honest im not surprised!

its themes are more appealing to me; i prefer the greater emphasis on the horror and tragedy of the story, particularly the more explicit acknowledgement of the corruption and state sanctioned violence of the military police state of amestris (which was amply covered in brotherhood, i'm not denying that, but '03 felt like it took that more seriously and addressed some of the darker aspects more unflinchingly) and the mercenary ruthlessness of the state alchemist scheme, which allows ed to be recruited and subsequently severely traumatized as a child soldier. and the homunculi being former humans who died violent and untimely deaths, resurrected and brought back as twisted, unrecognizable versions of themselves driven by a terrible hunger to be something more than just half-formed monsters wearing the faces of people who were loved makes them far more compelling imo. lust's arc in 03 made her one of my favorite characters.

[alchemic-elric]

In reference to ( x )

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ Cloud Fluff was fuckin' missing. It's been two god damn days and he hasn't shown his fuckin' face at all. This wasn't like him. This wasn't like him at all. Where was that stupid sonnavabitch?

The blond is racking his brain trying to think of what could have happened when the dumbass said he was only going to be out for a few hours. He didn't die, did he? No. He's immortal...but he's royalty and they gotta worry about like assassinations and shit like that right? Did he get abducted? Royalty has to worry about that bullshit too, don't they?

But seriously, who would want him? He's just going to set there and complain about Sunglasses and ramble on and on for hours until he finally gets hungry and whines for sugar. He doesn't know what the motive is here, but that sounds fuckin' annoying to him. Like Cloud Fluff is a good guy, but damn the fucker could talk.

And on that note, maybe that was all that this was. Fucker got so caught up in conversation that he stayed for dinner and spent the night. Really, he wouldn't put it past him. But it was a fucking problem now because that asshole has papa and all the other Mistericans in an uproar and it makes him wonder for a moment why Cloud Fluff didn't take along that Revon guy. He was supposed to be his guard, wasn't he?

He didn't know the details of the entire situation. Maybe he did. He didn't fucking know. All he knows is that spear boy is just about losing his fucking mind trying to figure out where Cloud Fluff ran off to. Sunglasses isn't here either. Both those fuckers have just up and gone missing. Maybe they're together. Who fuckin' knows? Woulda been fuckin'nice to get told though.

He's meandering his way through this palace (and damn he never thought he'd be living in one of these fuckers but Cloud Fluff insists) to find his brother because maybe he's been able to figure more out than he has because right now the elder of the Elric pair is coming up with a whole lotta nu'hin'.

"Yo." He sounds towards the (much to his dismay) taller blond causing a pair of nearly matching golden eyes to turn in his direction and face him. "You seen Cloud Fluff anywhere? Ev'rybody's freakin' the fuck out."

There is a frown pulled onto pale lips as the younger sighs for a moment and blond brows stitch themselves upward in half worry-half annoyance.

"No Brother, White Cloud has been missing for two days. No one knows where he is and he's made no contact since he left the other morning to check on sector 73. He said he'd only be gone a few hours but he needed to go speak with a few towns personally. He should have been back by now."

"Yeah well, all this worryin' he's got ev'rybody doin' is fuckin' dumb. 'e's bein' real heavy headed 'er whatev'r the hell 'e's always sayin' is. Ei'her way 'e's bein' a fuckin' idiot."

"Aren't you worried?"

"No." The elder replies plainly. "You know what that asshole can do just as well as I do. Fucker took down like god or some shit a few years ago. You really wanna fuck with that? You think anyone wants to fuck with that? Fuck. No. I don't and I don't think any sane mother fucker does either. Cloud Fluff is a nice guy and all but that bastard is a walking army. I don't think anyone is stupid enough to cross him."

Alphonse's arms cross over his chest and he frowns a little deeper as he thinks about it all for the moment.

"And we have the ability to manipulate basically anything with our bare hands and you know full well that people still mess with us being fully aware of this fact."

"---God Dammit Al. Are you trying to make me worry?"

"No. I'm trying to get you to see reason, because I know you like him quite a bit and I don't want you to either numb yourself to it and ignore it or panic yourself silly like Dad's doing. We need sharp minds to tackle this, so I think we should take a couple chocobos and investigate. We know he was in sector 73. So at least we know where to start asking questions."

The elder is groaning as he listens, mismatched arms crossed over his chest in half annoyance as he does.

"God I fucking hate it when you're right. Let's go. Everyone else is too busy losing their heads over this. Someone needs to find his dumbass."

"So it would be counterproductive if we lost ours. C'mon brother let's go."

[alchemic-elric]

°✩₊ 𖤓 ₊✩° "Horns?" The armored boy echoes for a moment as his attention shifts from sibling to sibling. He can't imagine anyone normal with horns and somehow his mind is painting a picture of some scary monster with white hair covering it's entire body and massive dark purple horns. The next thing they're going to tell him is that their friend spits fire... or maybe the other one does. A man as tall as he is? Sounds more like Major Armstrong... but if he's friends with this 'Kumo' fellow then he can't possibly be normal either.

Nothing in this place seemed to be that expect these kids. Even their chickens were oversized.

Still the other one - the boy - Yu - wanted to know what the people Brother was with were like so he's shifting his weight for a moment - as well as one can when they were an empty suit of armor only to let a half hmmm sound while he thinks about it.

"Pink." He starts. "I didn't get a very good look at them but there was a man with them and he was very pink. From his clothing to his hair. He just materialized a weapon out of nothing. It was like alchemy but at the same time not. There were others but I couldn't see them that well. A man in a long coat and a hat. A giant monster looking beast and a woman. She was also pink. Pink and green. I - " he pauses for a moment as he tries to think harder on the subject but only can remember falling straight through the ground.

"- don't remember much beyond that. Sorry. Does that sound like anyone you know? Maybe we'll be able to find them again and find brother, but knowing Ed he'll be his usual idiot self and not stay with someone so he's easier to find. But Brother's so loud we're bound to find him pretty easy."

He hopes.

He can only hope that Ed will stay with someone and find someone to help. He can only hope that Ed won't go running head long into this world in an attempt to find him without any sense of direction. Not that Ed has a sense of direction anyway.

"- So then your friends. Where do you think we'd find them? Do you really think just yelling for them, would be that easy? Are they close then?"

They may not know everything there is to know about Wonderland, but what information they could provide should be serviceable, especially for the questions that were being asked. Yu is the one to begin speaking yet again, as Ai already seemed back on the hunt for their Unlimited friends.

"This is a place called Wonderland- I might have said that already but I'm not sure-" he starts. "It's sort of hard to describe it, really- The best way to say it, is to call it some kinda patchwork world- There's bits of a whole lot of worlds in here, so it's no wonder you got stuck-" He opts not to mention the danger their world is in yet, not due to any lack of trust, but because the children can't be sure what happened to the young man before coming here. A flash didn't seem like enough to mean the end of a world as they knew it, but who could be sure?

But then, the people they met... Why did it give him such an uneasy feeling? Everyone in Wonderland was a bit strange, it shouldn't mean anything to him. And yet, he almost feels prompted to ask, "What were they like? I mean, it'd be good to know, right? Especially since there's a whole lot of weird looking people around here-"

Ai perks up when Yu falters a bit, mostly at the mention of the friends in question. "Well, we didn't lose these guys, we met up with them a lot on our first trip here, and they're super helpful! We wanted to find them because we got worried about something, and wanted to warn them about it- Their names are Kumo and Kaze! Kumo's got white hair, and has big dark purple and shiny horns, and Kaze's a big ol' guy, almost as big as you, and he's super grumpy all the time-" It makes Yu think, once she brings it up again. Could this be the problem they'd been alerted to? Were the forces of Chaos getting active again?

No, he shouldn't worry so much. Right now, the trio had to stay focused, they all had people to find. If Ed was on the way, great! But if not, at least they'd have more sensitive and careful ears to fall back on.

[azula-hates-men]

i recently finished watching fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood and it gave me ideas of how caitlyn could've had a better resolution to her character arc. the show definitely has its problems. for example, scar wanting to kill the soldiers responsible for the genocide of ishvalans is portrayed as just him wanting revenge or how the ishvalan genocide is mostly told from the perspective of war criminals, the conflict in fma has a better conclusion compared to arcane.

in fma, characters like roy, riza, and alex all express guilt for what they did during the ishvalan campaign of extermination and believe there should be consequences for what happened. by the end of the show, roy becomes the leader of amestris and talks about helping ishvalans return to their homes and restoring their culture.

what should've happened in arcane was caitlyn feeling guilt over oppressing zaunites and at least try to use her wealth to alleviate the poverty in zaun. caitlyn losing an eye is similar to roy losing his eyesight but the latter is more powerful as symbolism since he acknowledges his role in the genocide of ishvalans and is remorseful about it, the same can't be said for caitlyn.

this is why i don't think caitlyn losing an eye is redemption and is meaningful symbolism. roy becoming blind symbolizes how he was blind to the corruption of the military. in comparison, caitlyn losing an eye doesn't feel substantial since she's never confronted by anyone for what she did to zaun.

[symphonicsoul]

( @justaradioguy ) ->

🛠️ + "Hey Cid, how would someone go about formally joining the Comodeen...? Are there requirements?"

He isn't expecting anyone but he usually isn't when he's busy working. He's working through Sylvia's flight controls currently to make sure that his baby girl is as up-to-date as she can be the next time he needs her, when he hears a slow set of steps and the wheels of a walker followed by a question he can't say he was prepared for.

He's sliding up his visor as he turned to look over at the question's owner to find dark eyes and dark hair - the Amestrian in question he thought was coming when he heard him. It almost makes him wondering why he isn't asking this question to Knave, it's his organization after all.

Indigo fixates on dark onyx as his mouth opens ever so slightly with surprise painting his features.

"Well I mean there's a little bit of paper work now and establishing a file within the Comodeen's member database. We have a fitness test and a health exam to go through but they aren't hard. Can I ask you a question instead? What brought this on, Kain?"

[symphonicsoul]

It's a frantic mess that is sobbing into him and the only thing the Snow White Prince brings himself to do in response is to continue to stroke his hand through dark locks as he starts to hum. A soft wordlessly tune as he listens and he allows this human to move in as close to him as possible. To allow this man to find some form of refuge in this strange land and if that refuge happens to be him then so be it.

Of all the lost ones he's found in this world, this man has been the most confused. This one had been the most injured. This one was the one in critical condition when he found him and his situation had been the most dire. Of all the lost souls he's found in Wonderland, Herra Fuery worried him the most.

To say things like allowing your home to burn if all your loved ones were okay -it bothered him. To sob that one did not want to return to the land of their birth - it made his stomach upset. Not out of anger or any other sort of negative emotion but instead worry and concern.

What could have happened that was so miserable that Herra Fuery would not want to return to his home? To say that the others did not care about him? What did Eversti say; what did Eversti do that made Herra Fuery think such a thing? If it was one thing that he could say about both Miss Riza and Eversti, it was that bother of them were horrendous about showing their emotions.

He warned them about this. He warned them that concealing their emotions would get someone they loved hurt because sometimes that hurt isn't physical. Sometimes that hurt is an aching heart spent wondering if the object of it's affection will ever quite feel the same. The same or well - anything at all.

There are all kinds of ways to die but succumbing to a broken heart has to be one of the most painful. He can't say he wants that for Herra Fuery. He can't say he wants him to truly know what that pain feels like - so if he can give the man at least one person who cares - one person who can let this man know they care whether or not he's alive then maybe - just maybe he can soften the ache that is infecting that Amestrian heart.

Herra Fuery declares that he is tired, and apologizes for it but there are jade eyes watching the puffs of white making it into the air and all around them and he can't quite say he blames the man when he knows exactly why. It was part of the reason why he agreed to follow the man back to his room in the first place. Why he agreed to keep him company - partly anyway, because the prince was already well aware of the fact that if he could only end up doing one thing for this man tonight, it would be giving him a decent night's rest.

Just by remaining maskless in his presence. No deep exhales required. Just a polite conversation and his Mist would start to work it's magic. Just a quiet exchange and this frazzled man might be abel to find some form of comfort for the night. Still however the man grips at the back of his shirt albeit looser than he had been moment's ago. Still Herra Fuery stays as close to him as possible so the Misterican is shifting again to lean forward and guide the man back down so he can lay flat against the mattress they are both perched on.

He said he wouldn't leave. He said he would not leave unless Herra Fuery asked him to and if Valkoinen Pilvi was anything, he was a man of his word. So once he's made sure this human he's taken under his wing is laying back and comfortable, that's when he starts to settle himself. The Maken is leaned up against the wall on the other side of the chair he was setting in just moment's ago. The Maken is safe and within proper distance, so the prince finds himself laying down on his side and propping his head up on his left arm at the lack of a pillow to do so.

"Sleep Herra Fuery, I will be here." He assures. "If you wish to be close to me, I do not mind. It is normal in my culture."

Another round of white clouds roll into the air in small puffs as the prince speaks. He could already see that this heart was lost at sea, but if it was the last thing he did - he would not let him drown.

He only realizes that his hair's started to grow out just a little when he feels fingers running through it.

Everything's changed, and yet it's all stayed the same. It's hard to keep up the self-deception much longer.

His fingers tighten on whatever fabric is under them, holding on just so he can exist like this a little longer.

Why does a stranger care more than anyone else he's ever known?

The question echoes over and over in his mind, taunting him because he doesn't have an answer. He's wanted to believe he's not alone in the world since he was little, that someone out there had his back, but they've all hurt him or pushed him away somehow.

"H-He- the- the first thing he brought up— I-I wouldn't- I wouldn't do that to him, I've- I've done everything for- for everybody and they don't- they don't care about me and- I'm sad," he rambles, barely able to get any words past his sobs but it's not like he can stop trying. He takes a few shuddering breaths if only so he can make more sense.

He has no clue how to get his feelings out properly, but they're just going without him at this point - proper language be damned.

"I was so excited, the... the whole time, the whole time you were bringing me here, because- because I love them and- and I thought- but- but they don't, they see me like I'm fine as long as I can work- I'm only my work, but I just- I just wanted a hug or something, you know?"

His entire body feels heavy, and he's not sure if it's some weird adrenaline crash again or if he's being dragged into another probably-not-restful sleep by a body that has been going too much for too long. It doesn't feel like either of those, though. This doesn't feel like anything he can fight, and he's honestly not motivated to try.

The sergeant's cries come to a gradual halt, reducing to sniffles, his grip on White Cloud's shirt loosening as they do.

"And now... 'm tired. Sorry..."

[raucous-cacophony]

thinking a lot about fullmetal alchemist and due to the power of my adhd being medicated i have a lot to say about it

(i finally started reading the manga after having watched FMA:B a few times)

(spoilers below cut)

i didn't really pick up on this before, it's really hitting hard how the core theme of FMA is Hiromu Arakawa trying to process the trauma of growing up in post-war Japan, thinking as a child that their country is just and right and good, and then slowly discovering the extent of Japan's war crimes and the depravity and evil that the country sunk to during the war. (there are MANY. Unit 731 seems particularly relevant to Marcoh's philospher's stone research). and discovering how, at the end of the war, Japan's leadership was fully willing to sacrifice the civilian lives of the entire country to maintain their own personal glory (lots of similarities to The Father's plan to destroy all of Amestris in order to achieve godhood).

and like, in that context, Edward/Alphonse and Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye are such brilliant foils for eachother. both Edward and Roy Mustang are incredibly driven people with no fear of personal pain that are willing to do absolutely anything to achieve their own goals and better Amestris. but Edward is young, and hot-blooded, and a loose cannon, and (at the start) unaware of the evils committed in Amestris's name. and he gets angry when he discovers those. meanwhile, Mustang is older, and more measured and much more constrained by the military hierarchy he's operating in, and he directly helped commit many of the war crimes that Amestris perpetrated. but he's racked with guilt over the innocent lives he's taken, and rather than drifting through Amestris solving problems as they come up (like Edward), he's fully committed to working within Amestris's evil fascist dictatorship and pulling wires behind the scene in order to become the supreme leader of Amestris and make the government more righteous with the full power of an entire country behind him.

I've got less to say about Alphonse and Riza Hawkeye, but they both are committed to Edward/Mustang to the point of death. both Alphonse and Riza are more level-headed than their partners, will do anything to protect them, and have gone through a lot of personal pain in order to help them achieve their ultimate goals. Neither Edward nor Roy would be where they are without Alphonse or Riza's help. Both Alphonse and Riza were active partners in the sins their respective duos committed (human transmutation and war crimes). and, even separated from their partners, both Alphone and Riza are incredibly capable individuals that are more than able to hold their own.

this extends to the character design. look at how Edward and Mustang mirror eachother in their hair (bangs in particular) and angry expression

and look at how Alphonse and Riza mirror eachother -- also in their hair and their large, expressive eyes

what an incredible piece of art. love seeing the amount of love and care that went into this.

(P.S. Royai is like peak relationship goals. i want what they have)

(P.P.S. there's a lot of depictions of common people as honest, good, hardworking, and faithful people that are trapped in horrible machines beyond their control, esp. in the first few chapters (the Leto arc, the mining town arc). i really like how Arakawa goes out of her way to absolve the common people of the sins of their circumstances. it's good stuff)

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

This image perfectly articulates why most "Ishvalan Elrics" AUs are trash.

You know someone's grasp on racist systems are total dogshit when they make "what if we changed nothing else in this story about racial oppression but instead race swapped the racial majority/white characters to the oppressed ethnicity instead" stories. Classic "what if Indigenous people from [insert European-colonized lands here] colonized Europe instead? 🤪" type of crap. Or "What if the anti-Nazi resistance attacked a Jewish Nazi collaborator? Wouldn't that be fucked up on the part of the resistance?"

So Ed's Ishvalan now. Ok. Still grew up in Resembool? Alright, how would he have been treated by the Amestrian villagers? Given the blowback the village suffered due to Amestris' occupation and its destruction of Ishval, do they share a similar (racist) point of view to canon White Ed? Does Ishvalan Ed still blame Ishvalans for that too? If so, why? If not, why? Does he still think that the minor harm Resembool suffered (which is still Amestris' fault) compare whatsoever to full scale occupation, genocide, and ethnic cleansing? If not, why? If so, why? Why would he tamper with alchemic taboos given potential changes to how he was raised (for example, an Ishvalan Trisha may not have encouraged her boys to practice alchemy whatsoever)? And given that he has automail in the above image, meaning he does try to remake his mom, why then would Ishvalan Ed even consider becoming a State Alchemist to restore himself and Al? Would he even be allowed to join the military after the State disbarred, imprisoned, and executed serving Ishvalans? How hyper fucked would """good guy""" Mustang have to be to see a newly amputated Ishvalan child and think "Yeah, I want them to suffer within the military that wants him dead." How would Ishvalan Ed react to other Ishvalans, especially after learning the depths of the horrors that had been committed against them?

It's already clear that the majority of Ishvalan Elric AUs, particularly those that change nothing but their race, cannot grapple with any of these questions. But Scar here reveals the heavier racism within the fandom.

Scar is shown here attacking Ed no differently than he would the white child soldier of canon. Why wouldn't his tact change in response to encountering an Ishvalan teen being exploited by the State? Why would you race-swap this scene to instead depict Ishvalan retribution against an Ishvalan, with the implicit sympathy framed towards the Ishvalan fascist child soldier?

Why does this fandom so ardently believe that Scar's actions were so unprincipled?

The ugly truth that we see throughout the fandom is that people not only revile the violence of resistance when enacted by the oppressed, but they specifically buy into the propaganda that resistance fighters/revolutionaries, notably those who are also racialized and combatting that axis of oppression, are actually mindlessly violent monsters who simply conduct wanton violence in every direction, their own people be damned. And mangahood's canon already villainizes Scar this way, so the fans simply extend it to these stupid fucking Ishvalan Elrics/Riza/Mustang/every other Amestrian under the sun AUs.

To this fandom, Scar is just violent for violence's sake, an out of control 'terrorist' who would murder a random Ishvalan infant without a second thought if he found a state alchemist's watch clutched in their hands. And what's more, he doesn't get the extremely dubious 'benefit' of the "shoot and cry" excuse that the light skinned fascists get in canon.

Those soldiers don't need redemption arcs because despite how many Ishvalan children they slaughtered, they already felt sad about it. But Scar in an Ishvalan Elrics AU ala the drowned post? He wouldn't shed a tear if he inexplicably attacked an Ishvalan kid. Because "both sides".

[stackslip]

like i'm all about critiquing the execution of 03's ending and how sloppy cos is as an actual conclusion bc there's stuff that can be excused (the rushed production and cancelled final season and how little time/money they had and how much stress they were under) and stuff that can't (i love terminarcher objectively but it is deeply silly; winry's arc should have been concluded; imo it could have been executed better as much as i love the themes and ever since i learned of the original plan to finish the show in liore again i have been dying about it; cos is frankly a disaster on the amestrian side and nothing about the way it treats roy and riza makes sense except that the military are fan favourites who HAD to be in the big budget shounen movie)

but you cannot, for the love of everything holy, tell me with a straight face that manga/brotherhood's ending is better, nevermind perfect. like is it all tied up neatly. yes it is and herein lies the issue, again, bc it's so desperate to be a good happy ever after for everyone that it chooses to ignores the most vile implications of many characters' fates and plot threads' endings just so the Designated Good Guys can get domestic married and roy can be a benevolent military dictator. i've even seen people say that bh's ending inherently values winry more because she gets married to ed and settles and has babies with him. and yknow for how fucking messy the ending of 03 is, and how much of a weird mixed bag of a follow-up cos is too, for how out of context it SOUNDS weird but really if you've actually been following the plot and themes it fits perfectly, the ending to 03 is actually thematically coherent with its themes from the very beginning and drives home all its most salient points as hard as it can.

like sure the ending to brotherhood is much simpler and effective but you think about it for more than like five minutes and want to throw up. roy uses the souls of ishbalans to heal his eyes and becomes the fucking führer. ed and al have done nothing wrong ever. all the evil of the amestrian military comes from this Big Alien Bad Guy who Just Felt Powerless and when he's gone amestris is now a benevolent society that just happens to use ishbal as a frontier colony. scar wails and sobs about how evil he was for killing the people who actively participated in the genocide of his people while being scowled by an amestrian soldier. winry gets a domestic het ending. ling is gonna be cool emperor now and i guess mei can just deal with it. did any of the women ever really matter bc i keep being told brotherhood is a feminist masterpiece but what do any of them do besides return to the status quo with their boyfriend/husband/master or get domesticated and then olivier keeps being a fascist girlboss i guess. yay happy ending and don't you dare think about it deep it's not THAT deep, says the same crowd that calls og fma an anti imperialist masterpiece and a perfect series

meanwhile no matter how much 03 stumbles it legitimately feels like it's taking a look at all of these contradictions within the manga and slowly strangles them to death while looking you dead in the eye. THERE IS NO WAR THAT DOES NOT CONCERN US, ALCHEMY AND YOUR VISION OF PROGRESS ARE BASED ON MASS DEATH AND ATROCITIES, YOU CANT SAVE THE WORLD SINGLE HANDEDLY BUT THAT IS NO EXCUSE FOR NOT FACING THAT WORLD FOR WHAT IT IS AND STILL CHOOSING TO TRY TO MAKE IT A LITTLE BETTER. and then i have to hear all about how grimdark and supposedly lacking in hope it is when it literally ends on the realization that you cannot separate yourself from the world or ignore its issues you have a duty to it and it is bigger than your dreams or selfishness. anyhow

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ "For one, true immortality does exist and while I really wish it didn't, I can promise you I have a very reliable source to tell you that it does. It's a curse placed upon any man but more over The Unlimited. Tasked with keeping that beast at bay for all eternity. I can't say I'm a fan."

His voice is groaning as it drags out of him. Hands folded in his lap around the glass of water that exists within them and he rests there for a moment against the propped up pillows at the head of his bed with his eyes closed. This whole room is much too bright for his liking.

"Chaos cannot die because it is impossible to truly slay a being that feeds on the negative emotions of living beings."

His words come bluntly as his eyes fail to open as he speaks. There is a long breath pulled into pressurized lungs only for mist coated lips to part and a thin stream of white to fall from them and into his lap. He's positive that if he just speaks plainly Miss Leota will understand. Of all the humans he's had to speak to in recent days she seems to be the one who is clocking the fastest - no offense intended to the others. They are just ruled so strongly by their emotions and she seems to be ruled by other things. Like facts and numbers. Equations and Math.

Opettaja Aamunkoitto would have adored her no doubt. Surely they could have had quite the conversation.

"So to assume Chaos can be equated to whatever monsters exist in your Amestris is not only brash but foolish. Wonderland at it's essence is Chaos. That is why the beast allows pieces of the worlds it consumes to survive. That is why it traps us here. We're only here to allow that beast to continue to feed with each and every nasty emotion we feel and the Unlimited being here only amplifies the problem."

He's sighing again, more of the thing white substance floating into the air only to sink down to the ground and hover just over the floor as it appears from seemingly nowhere. His head hurts too much for this but he told her he would answer all her questions if she helped him get back to this damnable prison cell that Cid insists is his room...he supposes it's better than Gaudium.

"So I really need you to get the idea that any of you Amestrians could do anything to harm it out of your head." His voice is blunt as he continues to lay there, eyes never shifting to face her as he pauses to take a long drink from the glass still nestled within his grip.

"It's arrogance at it's finest, and bluntly put, it's exhausting. If simply finding a core was all it took we would have done it by now and then neither of us would be in the nasty predicament we've landed ourselves in. It makes it sound like we haven't been doing anything and I can assure you, Miss Leota, that is hardly the case."

Somehow this conversation seems to have gotten a little bit personal all too quickly. Perhaps there's more that the cloud isn't saying....

―  🜛  ―  not one to miss the opportunity to learn regardless of current feelings, she stretched out her fingertips and began combing her hair back in idle thought. Again and again. Combing. Again and again. Absorbing. Inhaling information like a bird seeking the touch of the skies, taking in each bit and guiding it beneath her wings. Soaring higher toward the sun. Perhaps to any other person taking in these words, it would be too much to handle at once  ―  had that been the reason he had spoken to her with such irritation? Surely by now he realized that she was not so common a whelp that simple explanations would harm her more basic functions. That her mind would swell and crack through the cranium? 

Somehow, like that wind beneath her wings, this too only adds to her need for heights even higher still. She continues her pacing as he speaks of these problems, taking it in as if each word had been writ as a tattoo upon her mind. No different than sitting within a classroom . . . the genre of that subject regardless, she takes it in. Once taken, it is kept. Even if it's not information that she particularly agrees with, it's best to understand the people she's dealing with. 

The thoughts continue to swirl around on her walk toward the chair for further rest ―  Chaos is not an 'it' or a figurative entity, but a 'he'. A world devourer that holds a physical form. Understood. This person ruled over Wonderland from . . . space? Inconceivable. Immortality? Something that can be killed but not permanently? 'We' have killed Chaos, but he doesn't remain dead. That he is just as immortal as the Unlimited . . . could she perhaps be going too far with his words to piece together that 'WE' could mean 'Unlimited', as in 'White Cloud, is an Unlimited who can only kill this Chaos'? A remark for later. At the very least, her ears seemed to perk up at his description of the immortal Chaos.

     " Hah. From the water to the monsters, ey? "     Truly. It was almost laughable how similar this world was to her own. The Alchemist slouched in her chair, arms hanging off the armrest like a bored child, but it was not a sign of disrespect from her. At least not this time. So now she speaks, smiling while concentrating at a spot on the ceiling and waving her arms about. Wafting in the waters of disbelief and attempts to understand this ludacris world. 

     " For one. True immortality does not exist. Where I am from, there were indeed beings to which I presumed such. I was young, before the massacre in my homeland, before my eyes had been opened to what Alchemy was truly capable of. I believed them immortal. And yet, they were felled and never came back with much effort put behind it. Roy Mustang, for example. . . "    her lips parted to parrot the story that Wrath had told her, but they closed when remembering that Roy was already here and would most likely be best to retell it himself. After all, he was directly involved. Weary arms rise and fall across her eyes to shield the light. Humming in thought.

    " Mm. No. Best let him regale you with that story another time. Regardless of the storyteller, what exists cannot exist for all time. By what reason does Chaos return after he is killed? For the Homunculi, it had been their inner core that was reviving them. And when that core had been destroyed, so were they. Its power, out-powered. And so on. By the amalgamation of worlds here, surely, surely there is some bit of power that can render the deathless to oblivion? "