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foxyslittlegarden · 2 years ago

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The TMA x FMA AU

Hey! For those who don’t know, I’m Jay! I’m one of Luna’s (@thevoidcannotbefilled) partners and a longtime friend~

We’ve been working on an updated version of this AU together, and thought it’d be fun to ruminate on the new ideas we’ve written together thus far.

A LOT OF SPOILERS FOR TMA, FMA 03, FMAB, AND THE FMA MANGA AHEAD!!!

To start, we’ve kept the original setting of 1914 Amestris and alchemy is still a large part of the universe and story. After all, alchemy is treated as an objective science in the world of FMA. We’ve kept many of the major plot points too!

So… what’s really changed in the AU?

The fall of Xerxes was the birth of the first philosophers’ stones, inhabiting the bodies of two men. One brought the science of alchemy to the West, the other the science of alkahestry to the East. These men were hailed as myths and prophets - the founders of modern alchemic science.

But something else came through the Gates of Truth that day.

Something big and evil and crushing and invisible to the men of this land.

But, to the two injured men that awoke on the outskirts of a dead city, they were well aware of what followed them.

They, too, learn the secrets of alchemy.

400 years pass. Amestris was founded. Alchemy became a leading science for both military and industrial uses, and the country continues to expand over the decades. The East has perfected alkahestry for medical uses.

And in Resembool, a small, rural hamlet in the southeastern region of Amestris, a small family lives alongside a lonely old man covered in scars, and a doctor and his own small family.

None are unfamiliar with loss.

Hoenheim leaves behind two young boys and his kind, forgiving wife. She shortly passes away after.

The doctor and his wife are taken by war, an uprising in the East.

The lonely old man, Jon, lost his husband centuries before, along with his sight.

As the story goes, the orphan boys, the Elric brothers, learn alchemy. They study whatever they can get their hands on. They ask the old blind man to teach them. They find a teacher in Dublith that trains their minds and bodies for their craft. They commit the ultimate sin, and try to bring their mother back from the dead.

Humans are not gods.

And such powerful science has laws to abide by.

Edward Elric, the older brother, lost his right arm and left leg, and replaces them both with limbs of iron. Alphonse Elric, the younger brother, lost his body, and now exists in the failed remnants of their transmutation.

Now, with Edward becoming a State Alchemist, a ‘dog of the military,’ a human weapon for the country of Amestris, he and his brother pursue one thing - the philosopher’s stone - to restore their old bodies.

But old gods and evil forces won’t let them get it that easily. And Fear is one hell of a powerful element.

Ok, ok, that’s out of my system. Let’s break some stuff down a bit.

We’re borrowing a few different ideas for this AU - not only the canon story from Brotherhood and the manga, but also a few bits and pieces from 03. And, of course, plenty from The Magnus Archives.

So, let’s start at the beginning with the end of TMA. The fears, along with Jon and Martin, are implied to have been sent Elsewhere. Elsewhere happened to be Amestris, or, more specifically, Xerxes, right after its fall.

With that first transmutation, the science of alchemy was irreversibly corrupted, tied to the Fears. The Fears, over time, also took new forms.

There are 7*:

Fear of The Fractured - loss of identity

Fear of Conflict - devastation and war

Fear of the Maker - what results from science going too far

Fear of Oblivion - ceasing to be

Fear of Decay - disease, starvation, poverty, etc

Fear of Confinement - being trapped or manipulated

Fear of Disconnection - losing humanity, connection, or empathy

*Obviously, in line with TMA, there’s some additional room for interpretation for each.

Each fear is tied to one of the 7 homunculi created, or taken in, by Father:

Fear of The Fractured - Envy

Fear of Conflict - Wrath

Fear of the Maker - Pride

Fear of Oblivion - Sloth

Fear of Decay - Gluttony

Fear of Confinement - Greed

Fear of Disconnection - Lust

Now, I said we’d be borrowing some aspects of 03, and the creation of homunculi is one of those things. Despite its many flaws, I think 03 had a few interesting ideas to explore, particularly the concept of homunculi being the result of human transmutation. So, while some homunculi keep their canon roots (Pride, Gluttony, and Wrath for example), others have a shift in their backstories. Lust and Greed were willing human siblings who agreed to take the stone, but Greed has decided he doesn’t wish to keep his end of the bargain with Father. Envy (and this is probably gonna piss some people off I’m so sorry) is Izumi’s lost child, found then stabilized, and now resentful of typical humans.

Sloth is Martin. Blame Luna for that one.

It should be noted that human transmutation is Still Impossible in the AU. What results is an unstable mess that needs a philosopher stone core or Fear to keep them stable, And while a philosopher's stone is a refined, perfect combination of alchemical ingredients, Fear can also be refined and crystalized (such as in 03’s version of the philosopher's stone) which can and will corrupt the user over time.

A perfect stone refines both. A perfect stone can elevate you beyond an avatar. A perfect stone can turn one into a god.

And that’s precisely what Father’s after.

Alright that’s fine and fun and dandy, but what’s this about Al’s body??? And Jon teaches them alchemy???

Ok, ok… Al’s body is indeed flesh and blood in this version, what you may call an incomplete homunculi or somewhere between human and homunculi. After all, he’s the soul that ended up in their failed attempt to bring back their mother.

The manga and Brotherhood explain how this is possible fairly well, both in The Blind Alchemist - a side story in the manga and Brotherhood anime - and in a few chapters/episodes of the story proper. In canon, Al’s soul briefly entered the body of their failed transmutation attempt before it was rejected. The referenced side story further expands by implying that a soul might still inhabit the transmuted girl (though it's left up to interpretation whether there is someone inside or if it's even the original soul), as the body was stable and presumed to be living.

Human transmutation, as is its intended use, is still impossible. But a working body can hold a soul - see Al’s armor in canon.

His body is unstable and often-times unreliable. The armor helps keep him together, and frequent transmutations help to re-stabilize him (explained further down). While he doesn’t face as many issues with his soul being rejected from his body - and it's still a risk - he does face many issues that a living body that isn’t working properly can face: sleep is unneeded but he can feel fatigue, he can’t feel pain and is much stronger than he should be, but he can still get hurt (takes a lot to risk killing him though), he needs food but it often doesn’t taste like much of anything, etc.

Instead of wondering if he’s real, Al often grapples with the question of if he’s human (or WHAT he is in general).

I mentioned frequent transmutations to keep Al in tact, but to explain that, I need to explain Jon.

Jon and Martin arrived 400 years ago, we know that much. The figure out the situation rather quickly, all things considered, and manage to settle down in what would eventually become Amestris (after, of course, some stumbling from place to place and recovery from their injuries with what help they could find).

Strangely enough, things settle down for the two of them. They grow old together, build a farm and a happy life, travel and learn new things - Jon takes a particular interest in alchemy as a new science to explore (and, possibly, he’s drawn to the Fear attached to it). They raise cows! They meet and befriend a man named Hoenheim, who seems to relate to their story and helps expand their knowledge on alchemy and its uses. Jon uses what he knows of modern medicine and his studies of alchemy and alkahestry (with Hoenheim’s help) to develop his own form of alchemy, one that expands on the ideas of medical alchemy - the same alchemy he eventually teaches to the brothers to keep Al together.

After a happy several decades, he loses Martin to old age. It's a peaceful death, one Jon saw coming long before it happened. Jon’s barely aged by comparison - though he’s no longer tied to the Eye, some effects still linger. He promises Martin he’d live as a human, and die like one, when the time was right.

But, Jon isn’t ready to let go - not of life, not of Martin. Fear still works to keep him alive.

The transmutation to bring Martin back, however, fails horribly, and Jon loses his eyesight. It's a bit ironic, isn’t it? The Avatar of the Beholding loses the ability to see the world around him.

Hoenheim’s an old friend. If anyone understands what he’s going through, it's him.

So it's not so surprising that Jon eventually settles down in the quiet village of Resembool.

Aaaaand that’s the basics really! We’re still figuring out a more specific plot and exploring different ideas because the lore we ended up with for this baby is Hefty, and this isn’t even everything we discussed or the individual relationships between the characters!

If my dear Luna wishes to expand or ruminate on ideas, they are more than welcome to add.

They helped me write this, after all! This is as much their fault as mine. lol

If you made it through this, thanks for reading! And uhhhh… wow, you’re patient, have a cookie.

#fma:b #fma #tma #fmaxtmaAU #body horror #when a horror writer and angst writer collaborate #unnecessary amounts of theatrics to explain lore #I'm so so sorry about Martin and Envy and also Al #I can blame Martin and part of Al on Luna but the rest was my fault #AU where local blind man who hates children becomes a grandfather #Izumi is also in there dw #if anything Jon dumps them on her the first chance he gets #recent hyperfixation #this is the shit I do during flare ups when I can't draw #long post #foxy rambles

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lady-charinette · 4 years ago

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Hello! I saw you write for FMA and I was wondering if you would write for Jean havoc? There's literally nothing for him and his my favorite 😭

A/N: Alright, so I'm admittedly pretty rusty since I hadn't written for FMA in... a very long while and speed watching Havoc scenes could only do so much. ^_^ I'll try to write more Havoc in the future tho (and the squad of course, really miss all of them together T_T). Hope this isn't too bad! :3

_________________________________________

Riza took her time to look at her surroundings, all the while trying to not be too obvious.

Of course, he noticed. “Don’t be shy, look all you want, it’s a shop for a reason.” He spun around in his wheel chair, grabbing a document from behind the cash register and ticking something off.

Riza smiled, now openly allowing her gaze to fall on the various goods in the general store of her friend’s family. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it, it’s been a while since I felt so…”

“Normal?” her eyes widened in surprise and Havoc smiled at that, setting down the document and resting his arms on his lap, “Yeah, it’s something you get used to.”

When Riza took some canned food off a higher shelf, a click was heard. Suddenly, a plethora of items fell from the shelf and Riza immediately backed away, letting the items fall heavily to the floor instead of her swollen feet.

Riza stared at the pile of secured explosives and illegal weapons on the floor, casting a side glance to her old friend. “…You were saying?”

Havoc rubbed the back of his neck, standing up from his wheelchair to gingerly pick up the weapons and pile them back up in their hidden place. “Never said I was successful in getting used to it, right?”

Riza scoffed fondly, shrugging her shoulders. “I suppose you didn’t,” she inclined her head towards the wheelchair, “Why would you continue to use it? The stone healed you, didn’t it?”

Havoc grinned, patting the old wheelchair proudly. “Well, you would be surprised to find out how many chicks fall for the poor wheelbound man more easily.”

His former superior gently nudged him, “I’m glad some things never changed.”

There was a certain darkness behind her friend’s eyes Riza recognized, one she herself held contained just beneath the surface of a practiced smile and professionalism.

The war, the Homunculi, the casualties, the loss of their friends and loved ones. There were only so many things a human was capable of surviving.

He patted her shoulder, squeezing with a grateful smile on his lips, for once not wrapped around a cigarette. “I’m glad some things did change,” his eyes suddenly zeroed in on her stomach and the smile morphed into a full-blown grin. “Look at you, looking rounder every day!” it was that boyish grin that made Riza’s heart melt, reminding her of their younger days in the military academy.

“I do hope you’re talking about my wife’s stomach.” A new but not unfamiliar voice entered his ears and Havoc’s grin widened, if that were even possible.

“Look at the happy expecting father! You’re glowing Mustang!” Havoc and Roy shared a tight hug, Havoc patting his former superior and friend on the back for good measure.

“It’s been a while, Havoc.” Roy smiled, kissing his wife’s forehead tenderly. Normally the couple wouldn’t engage in such affectionate gestures outside of the privacy of their own home, but Havoc and the rest of the old team were family, after all.

“So, am I an uncle to a boy or a girl?” Havoc leaned down and rested a hand gently on his pregnant friend’s stomach with her nod of approval.

“It’s a surprise,” Riza looked expectantly at her husband, “Somebody wanted to make it special and throw a party when the baby is born to find out.”

Havoc shook his head, “You’re gonna have your hands full with two babies, Riza.”

Roy snapped his head up at the insult. “Hey!”

Riza giggled at her husband’s outrage, smiling fondly when the two men bickered back and forth, reminding her of the old times.

Once the expecting couple left, Havoc closed up shop, taking his coffee and moving to sit on the front porch, the setting sun bathing him in warmth.

He toyed with the lighter in his hand, still remembering when he threw it at Lust and thought it had done its job of killing her. How naïve he had been back then.

The scars on his body spoke of his mistakes, but also of his achievements.

A testament to everything that tried to kill him and he gave each of those monsters the middle finger by standing there today, alive and kicking.

Havoc produced a cigarette from his other pants pocket, setting down the mug to light it.

Old habits died hard.

The smoke that filled his lungs felt like a breath of fresh air and the sensation of euphoria taking over his weary body made him almost lightheaded.

The setting sun seemed to salute him as it set, night slowly falling over the small rural town of his youth.

His cigarette was almost done too, how fast they seemed to run out. Or did they get shorter?

These things will kill you one day!

Roy’s words echoed in his mind like his mother’s tongue lashings whenever he was caught smoking at school. The teachers always threw a fit.

With a flick of his wrist, Havoc dumped the cigarette on the ash tray and slowly began his trek back home, coffee mug still in hand. The bitter taste left him yearning for one more smoke, but he promised his friends he wouldn’t smoke as often as he used to.

Old habits died hard, but he never said he wasn’t trying.

#fma #fmab #fma fic #jean havoc #fullmetal alchemist #riza hawkeye #roy mustang #my fic #my fics

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by-nina · 4 years ago

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For auld lang syne, my dear (Counterpoint)

AO3 | FFN Part II of For auld lang syne, my dear Rating: T (alcohol, mild language) Genre: Fluff/Romance/Angst Word Count: 2,151

A/N: Part two of For auld lang syne, my dear coming through! This was supposed to be the second part of my FMA Secret Santa work this year. Even though it officially isn’t, it’s still something I wanted to make with the prompts I was given. So here you go and I hope you like this one, @megthemighty! (My first Havolina!)

Happy New Year to you all, and I hope we’re all able to dance our way through better days.

It sometimes seems like it was only yesterday that she heard that old holiday song on a train platform, saying goodbye to a boy who once brightened a few lonely days, hoping for a dance that would never come. On most days, she’s able to bury that moment away like it happened in another life.

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Riza is far from home and the quiet holiday mornings she used to spend alone by the fire. The change is stark before she even reaches Central. Closer and closer to the city, the air grows a little warmer and the sky fades into a duller shade of black, compensated by the brilliant lanterns and ornaments adorning every building. Everything else is a blur from there. A party with more guests than she personally knows, a glass of champagne in hand, a nicer dress than the ones she usually wears on a night out in town.

Riza would be perfectly happy to just sit back and let the night play out around her. She’s here because Rebecca had convinced her to come along, insisting that they try something a little different from the usual year-end festivities in the East. But home is all that Riza looks for the whole night. Thankfully, no one is a happier reminder of it than Rebecca. With all her energy, they may as well be back home, dancing the night away at the town plaza.

Then, they find Lieutenant Havoc by himself at the party, and Riza finally begins to truly have a great time. It’s almost as if she and her two dear friends have got their own little world in the corner of the room. Sometimes she jumps into the conversation, laughing along to inside jokes about their respective hometowns and from their days at the military academy. She’s equally happy just to listen as Rebecca and Havoc get carried away with their thoughts—some oddly specific and similar, others wildly different and conflicting.

“… and what difference does it make if you do it tonight?”

Havoc leans back in his chair smugly, as though he’s certain the argument is over. “Look, everyone gets emotional on New Year’s Eve. It could be good or bad, but when you get carried away, it’s not like it’ll be the same the next morning.”

“Bullshit, you’ll be fine! You’ve been single for, what, a month?”

Riza sets her glass down on a side table. “I’m sorry, what are you two talking about?”

Rebecca rolls her eyes. “Mister Loverboy here thinks that he shouldn’t try and find a girlfriend tonight because it’s New Year’s Eve, and nobody can commit.”

Even Riza, who is far behind the other two in terms of dating experience, fails to grasp the idea. “What?”

Havoc makes a comically scandalized face. “You two are ganging up on me! Hear me out—Hawkeye, as our voice of reason and the most level-headed person in this room—”

“Hey! You don’t get points for flattery, Havoc!”

“—do you think you could find a boyfriend or a girlfriend right here in this party, on New Year’s Eve, while everyone is drunk and emotional and, well, they’ve all got too much on their mind right now, don’t they?”

Rebecca and Havoc watch Riza expectantly as she picks up her glass again, considering the question as she sips the last of her drink. As if it will help her think clearly. “I’ve got good news for you, Havoc,” Riza finally says after a while. “You can definitely find a girlfriend in this party, on New Year’s Eve.”

“See?” Rebecca places a hand on Riza’s shoulder and grins at Havoc. “That’s the voice of reason for you!”

Riza continues, “I think that sometimes, trusting someone enough to be vulnerable around them is a good start. And your relationship shouldn’t just revolve around the first spark, anyway. It’s your choice whether or not you’re going to work on it. If you like someone enough, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to do that.”

They look at her like she has just read their fortunes.

“Well, well, those are some big words from you, Riza!” Rebecca says. “Do you actually have a boyfriend I don’t know about?”

“You know I don’t, Rebecca. But what point were you trying to make against Havoc, anyway?”

“That if there’s someone he likes, but he won’t do anything about it tonight just because it’s New Year’s Eve, then he’s a coward.”

Havoc grabs at his chest dramatically and hunches forward, exaggerating the look of pain on his face. “Ladies, you’re breaking my heart! All I want is to have a lasting relationship with a good woman! I’m telling you, I’ll treat her like a princess, and every day I’ll tell her how much I love—”

“Her boobs,” Riza and Rebecca say in unison, bored, but with a hint of knowing laughter.

Rebecca reaches forward as Havoc takes out a cigarette from the pack he has been keeping in his coat pocket. She pushes his hand aside and grabs the pack, then tucks it between the cushions of the couch that she and Riza are occupying. “Put that thing away, you’ll never find a good woman smelling like smoke. Let’s dance.”

“What the—”

“Your girlfriend’s not just gonna waltz in and find you here on your ass, Havoc. Dance floor, now. Riza, let’s go!”

Riza waves off the invitation, chuckling. “I’ll be fine here, thanks. You two have fun.”

Rebecca drags Havoc out into the dancing crowd, and Riza sits back contentedly with a newly filled glass of bubbly. She doesn’t know how much time she spends watching her friends under the sparkling lights, their laughter ringing so loudly that it seems to carry over the music and the chatter around the room, but she does notice how they change. The more they dance, the closer they seem to get to each other. They become locked in a gaze, eyes glinting with more than enjoyment. Even the way they move seems to say that they’ve got every part each other memorized.

Time goes by quickly from then on, and suddenly midnight is only a few minutes away. The music changes with Rebecca and Havoc still out on the dance floor; they exchange a look of understanding and recognition. And perhaps it’s because they had grown up with the song as well—or maybe Rebecca and Havoc are so intoxicated now that they are both made entirely of warmth—but Riza senses feelings of comfort and home being communicated between them, all without words. They might have gone back in time to their childhoods, or they might have come up with a world with just the two of them there on the dance floor.

Riza smiles.

How could she have never seen it coming?

Then again, there are many things that Riza never saw coming, like those distant memories that come with the music now filling the room. It sometimes seems like it was only yesterday that she heard that old holiday song on a train platform, saying goodbye to a boy who once brightened a few lonely days, hoping for a dance that would never come.

On most days, Riza is able to bury that moment away like it happened in another life. She can look at the man the boy has become without imagining what might have been or thinking that she might still feel the way she did before. That other life ended in Ishval, and although she has kept the Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang in the life she lives now, it has been strictly out of duty. She swore to follow him and protect him; there is nothing more to it. Nothing about a dance, no vestiges of a precious shared past.

But sometimes, she is reminded of the past without warning, like now.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

Roy Mustang isn’t supposed to be here.

He hadn’t planned on going to any party tonight. It was supposed to be like all the other year-end holidays he has spent in this city. Unpeaceful, a blur of faces both familiar and unfamiliar at Madame Christmas’ bar, the promise of a quieter morning with family once all the festivities were over. But then he ran into Havoc earlier this evening, the latter making his way to this fancy new lounge that had opened at the northeast side of town.

“Come on, Chief,” Havoc had said, “you need to get out more often. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

The invitation wasn’t even an appealing one, at least to Roy. It’s been many years since he last truly enjoyed New Year’s Eve, because throughout these many years he has changed so much. He has been in the military for what feels like a lifetime now, gone to hell and back during the war in Ishval, and he no longer feels the holidays the way he did when he was a young boy. He does remember some things, though, like breakfast made from the leftovers of New Year’s Eve dinner, the market filled with toys and books and rare delicacies, the music.

And her.

Riza hardly looks different from the young girl who saw him board a train for Central many New Year’s Eves ago, but he knows better than anyone that that isn’t true. She’s about as distant from her younger self as he is from his. She’s also easier to imagine back in that time than Roy finds himself to be. At most, he can point out how much longer her hair has grown since that day—it’s not yet past her shoulders, but it frames her face differently. Beautifully.

“Hello, Lieutenant.”

The music has changed to a familiar old tune, and perhaps it’s why he calls her attention without thinking. Roy wishes he hadn’t. She was watching the crowd’s merrymaking just now, with a warm, lovely smile that he had been lucky to see once before. He didn’t mean to make it go away. But when Riza hears his voice, her expression changes, and she rises to her feet so quickly that she almost loses her balance. There is a deep pink hue on her cheeks.

“Lieutenant Colonel.”

He laughs a little. “I’m sorry, that was so formal. It’s New Year’s Eve. Just call me…”

Roy stops himself.

“… Mustang.”

Riza nods slowly, then sits back down. Roy gingerly occupies the spot at the other end of the same couch. They’re silent for a few moments, listening to the holiday song played by the live band from the other side of the room, sung by the crowd in varying degrees of drunkenness.

“You should be dancing too,” Roy finally says. He isn’t sure if he means it as a suggestion or an invitation.

She smiles in a resigned manner, reaching down slightly to rub her ankles. “My feet are aching from these shoes.” Riza pauses. “How about you?”

Roy shakes his head. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

How easily they lie to each other.

Riza resumes watching the crowd, so she doesn’t see Roy watching her as the song plays on, or perhaps she pretends that she doesn’t. He tries not to think of all the reasons they have to deny each other a dance. He takes comfort in the memory of her twirling on the platform of Cameron Station, of singing for her in the living room of her childhood home. And if he’d truly had as much to drink as he claimed he did, he would have abandoned all judgment to take her out to the dance floor, just to have those things again.

For old times’ sake, Roy tells himself.

The spell breaks at the stroke of midnight, when the song ends and jubilant greetings ring out around the room. Roy and Riza return to the present and exchange cordial, if tentative smiles, once again becoming Lieutenant Hawkeye and Lieutenant Colonel Mustang. No complicated past, no uncertain future. Only the present in which they are able to welcome the new year together, if not in the way either of them had hoped.

“Happy New Year,” they tell each other.

Riza hesitates to take Roy’s hand when he offers it. When she finally does, her hand feels rougher than he remembers, her grip turned firm by the mastery of her self-control. He knows she is wary of the lines they cannot cross, even though they’ve been far past that point for much of her lives. But he won’t do that to her. Roy would never offer her something he knows he cannot give. He cares for her far too deeply to do that.

For now, he puts his faith in better, kinder years to come.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #FMA #FMAB #Royai #Havolina #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Rebecca Catalina #Jean Havoc #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #romance #angst #pining #mutual pining #writing #written by nina

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the-lonely-tree-original · 4 years ago

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Green With Envy (FMA Oneshot)

Just kind of thought about what would happen when Roy got a new alchemist under his belt and...

When all is said and done, Edward Elric doesn’t want much. He wants a good life, that’s true. He wants to go to sleep in a warm bed and be able to put food on the table and have other necessary comforts, of course. There was that obvious desire not so long ago to get his and his brother’s bodies back, but he had succeeded. By all accounts, he should be perfectly content for at least the next couple of months, still running off of that dream-come-true high.

But he isn’t.

How could he be when that was happening right before his eyes?

It had been childish to curl his lip at the new Major, to refuse to shake his hand, but how could he pretend? Was he supposed to lie and act like everything was fine when it wasn’t? Is that something that he should just be able to do?

Try as he might, Ed couldn’t stop the hurt that clawed at his heart when he saw him, greeted by the team like an old friend.

The new Major is kind. He’s all smiles and laughter and Ed even saw him give his coat once to a civilian who’d been caught in a storm. He should be happy that the military is finally accepting people who aren’t complete bastards.

But he isn’t.

And he hates him.

Major Braddock was one of the many new recruits hired by Fuhrer Grumman after the fight with father. He’s young - not younger than Ed, of course, but young enough to not have started a family yet. He probably just got out of school.

So really, Ed should have nothing against this 20-something-year-old boy who only wants to secure his future in a steady job, but he does. Because he was assigned to them. Mustang’s unit. Right after Ed had resigned from duty.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad if Braddock was older. If he didn’t have a little brother just like Ed. Because, for all of their differences in appearances, it did nothing to stop the feeling that he was being replaced.

He watched Braddock’s exchange with his team (his old team), feeling like a band was tightening around his chest. Alphonse - sweet, genius Alphonse - noticed the way his hands were clenching into fists and teeth were digging into lips and guided him away with a soft, flesh hand on his back.

When they got to their room, Ed looked at the final resignation documents on his desk, lying so innocently on the carved wood. He’d have to go in tomorrow, or else some time soon, and turn them in. Back then, before they’d gotten their bodies back, Ed and Al had talked about what they would be doing after. Resignation had seemed so simple. They’d hated the military, so why would they stay?

He’d never thought it would be this hard

***

He walked up the steps of central command alone. His brother was meeting up with the doctor to check in with his physical prowess, and Al had gotten bored of his pestering, so he told Ed to make himself busy. Obliviously, he phrased it better, but the message was all the same: give me space. So here he was, marching awkwardly up the steps while trying to pretend he didn’t feel like the building was going to eat him alive.

Seeing the team should be happy. It really should. But what if he’s inside?

Ed clutched the papers tight to his chest, using them as some sort of stress-reliever. How would Mustang react when he saw the crumpled up sheets? Would he joke about Ed’s penmanship as usual? Or would he accept it with a nod and send him on his way? Just the bare minimum of acknowledgement before sending him off to the rest of his life. Without them.

It was irrational, Ed knew, to feel like this. It wasn’t like he was useful to Mustang anymore. Without alchemy, he was a dog without fangs. Their whole relationship was founded upon using each other and now he was nothing more than a broken toy.

He needed a new toy. A shining gold star to add to his resume when climbing up the ranks. With Ed he only had a desperate kid who defected not even five years into the job. He knew it wasn’t fair to Mustang, who’d shown on countless occasions that he cared deeply about those who worked under him. It wasn’t fair to label him as some heartless, power hungry bastard that only cared about his own gains.

But.

But it was the only thing that could ease the pain he was feeling.

“It’s the Fullmetal Alchemist!”

“Edward Elric!”

Ed smiled abashedly. After the whole father fiasco, Ed had become somewhat of a celebrity in the military ranks. Those who were there seemed to go out of the way to make him feel a little more welcome, smiling at him when he walked down the halls and occasionally going out of their way to get him coffee or something like that. Even those who weren’t looked at him somewhat in awe, not quite understanding the treatment he was getting since the event was kept on the down low, but also trying to fit in with the crowd.

Even Mustang’s team treated him differently. It just wasn’t the good different. Walking into their office proved as much.

He was still greeted warmly by Hawkeye, addressed as “Chief” by Breda and Havoc, saluted by Falman and Fuery - that much was true. But it was different. Hawkeye didn’t linger to ask him about his day, instead going straight to Mustang’s office to announce his arrival. Havoc didn’t playfully rough up his hair or Breda make fun of his height. Even the more resigned members of Team Mustang seemed to be holding back more than usual.

It was like an invisible force was driving them apart. Home isn’t supposed to be a place, it’s supposed to be a people, and this small home he’d made felt unfamiliar and cold. There was a distance there that there wasn’t before.

“Edward, the General will see you shortly.” Ed nodded politely at Riza’s words, surprising himself by nodding at all. There used to be a time when he would just barge into Mustang’s office, completely uncaring of the audience in the room. Now it felt wrong to even knock.

“What’s with that look on your face, Chief? You about to fight a homunculus or something?” Breda’s joke fell flat. Ed would probably prefer that right about now. At least then he’d only have to worry about himself.

The door to the office opened. “Or something,” Ed murmured. Joyous laughter came tumbling out of the room alongside a pair of boot-clad feet. Accompanying it, was the rare, genuine chuckling he only heard once in a blue moon. Ed could never make him laugh like that, but a new, unfamiliar recruit could. Right there, a stone slammed into his stomach because how else could he explain the lack of air and the agonizing pain and the-

“Edward, you wanted to see me?” Ed should be happy, Mustang’s talking to him in the same tone as always. But he called me Edward. He’s always called me Fullmetal.

“Y-yeah. I’m here to finalize my resignation.”

Mustang looked down at the papers in his hands, eyes harding into obsidian pools. “Ahhh, yes, I can take those from you.”

Ed handed over the forms, not oblivious to the way the whole team was silent at his statement. Were they waiting for something to happen or what?

“Step inside for a moment Ed-” he bit his cheek “-I just want to make sure everything’s correct.”

He sat down silently and waited for Mustang to finish examining his papers. From the tensing of his shoulders, Ed could tell the other man felt just as out of place as himself. After a few minutes, the General shuffled the papers and piled them into a neat stack.

“Everything checks out.” There was a long silence in which the two stared at each other, searching for something but not knowing what. After a while, though, it all became too much and Ed stood to leave, only stopping because of Mustang’s voice calling out to him. “Anything the matter, Ed? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“I’m fine.” You aren’t, but it’s nothing he needs to trouble himself with.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” No, you don’t even know why you’re feeling this way.

The other man sighed, before relaxing back into his seat. “Okay, if you say so. Visit us soon, okay?” Ed nodded and began walking towards the door. “I’ll miss you.”

Those three words were what did it. He didn’t cry, per say (after going through so much it just became hard to cry), but there was something lodged in his throat causing him to choke. He heard Mustang’s chair push back - he was probably getting up out of concern more than anything - and felt the man’s presence hover behind him, unsure of what to do.

“Edward?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the door was closed, which meant that no one else would see him break down. It was a weird train of thought to be having at the moment, but he’d been feeling so detached lately that it wasn’t that much of a surprise to him.

“Edward,” Mustang repeated.

“Fullmetal.”

“What?”

“You used to call me Fullmetal.”

“...Oh… of course… Fullmetal, what’s wrong?” The way he acted like that mistake was nothing… and to him it probably was, but...

With a clogged throat, Ed said, “I’m going to miss you too, you know… but it feels like I already missed my chance to say goodbye.”

Even without looking at the man, he could see the confusion on his face. “What do you mean?” he asked. The confusion was evident in his voice as well.

“You just- it just-” Ed paused, trying to get his words straight. “It just isn’t the same anymore, whenever I talk to you. Or the team. It feels like I’ve lost whatever connection I had.” He finally looked up at Mustang. The man was silent, only looking at him with very sad eyes. “And, with Barddock here, I feel replaced.”

That snapped Mustang out of whatever trance he’d been in, obsidian eyes dark with anger, arms latching onto his shoulders. “You listen to me, Fullmetal. No one, and I repeat, no one, can ever replace you. If you actually think that then you’re a lot dumber than I thought. Because, for the four years I’ve known you, I’ve never met anyone so brave, noble, and kind.”

Ed chuckled, eyes watering a bit at the praise. “Are you sure that you’re not talking about yourself, Bastard.”

Mustang didn’t laugh. “I want you to know that you’re the most remarkable person I’ve met. I will never forget how much you changed this country - you changed me - I could never replace you. I’m sorry that you feel this way - that I’ve made you feel this way. I was under the impression that you wanted nothing to do with the military once you and your brother got your bodies back, but I see now that the way I was going about doing so was wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Being called Fullmetal is just as big a part of your identity as being called Ed. Furthermore, the bonds you made here run much deeper than work associate, and it was cruel of me to distance myself as both your friend and your-” He cut off abruptly, pulling Ed into a hug. “And I’m sorry. I must have influenced the behavior of the team, and for that, I am sorry as well.” Squeezing gently, he said, “We all care about you so much, kid. And you have no idea how much they’d beat themselves up if they knew we made you feel this way. If you’re going to take one thing away from this, Fullmetal, please remember that you are irreplaceable in our eyes, okay?”

Ed nodded against his shoulder, returning the hug even tighter than the Flame Colonel. Smiling, he said, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Mustang shifted in order to flatten his hair - when it got messed up, he didn’t know, but the action was so soothing and caring that Ed was finally able to let go of a few of his tears. The sound he let out was a choked sob, but it was a lot happier than before.

“Just because you’re no longer part of our team on paper, does not make that true. We still want you to visit us and talk to us and tell us about your day. We still want to be a part of your life and watch you grow up. You are, and always will be, part of our family.”

~El Fin~

#fma #fullmetal alchemist #fanfic #fanfiction #edward elric #roy mustang #parental roy #parental royed #angst #hurt/comfort

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meta-squash · 5 years ago

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Le Cabuc and Past/Present Tense

So I’ve been intrigued by the death of Le Cabuc for a while now. Back in 2013 Murf and I had a brief meta conversation about him that was mostly about his identity as Claquesous and the metaphor of his death paralleling his existence as a member of Patron-Minette. But in my most recent re-read I’ve become really interested in the tense change during Le Cabuc’s actions at the barricade. Nowhere else in the novel is there a switch to the present tense that describes a current action (there are a few passages which switch to the present tense in which the viewer is presented with a past scene to imagine rather than a scene currently happening).

In doing some googling (since my knowledge of French consists of one semester in uni before I switched to German), I get the impression that French tense usage is different from English tense usage, and that present tense is often used in historical or journalistic writing rather than the past tense that’s usually used in English. Historical present tense is used in English historical/journalist writing sometimes too, usually as a combination of present and past tense in order to emphasize certain moments. But also, as far as I can tell (with the help of google translate and various conjugation grids), most of the book is in past tense and this small section is actually in present tense.

So, anyway, I think it’s very interesting that Hugo chose to make this tiny moment specifically present tense. Like I said above, the only other times we get present tense, Hugo is describing to the reader a scene to imagine or painting a picture of a specific moment in history (specifically Waterloo).

Hugo switches to present tense for a total of 9 sentences before switching back to past tense. The tense change occurs as Le Cabuc exclaims “Bash the door in!” and runs to the door, and switches back to past tense once he begins to hit the door with the butt of his rifle.

“Knock!” “They won’t open.” “Bash the door in!” Le Cabuc runs to the door, which had a very massive knocker, and raps. The door does not open. He raps a second time. Nobody answers. A third rap. The same silence. “Is there anybody there?” cries Le Cabuc Nothing stirs. Then he seizes a musket and begins to beat the door with the butt. It was an old alley door, arched, low, narrow, solid, entirely of oak, lined on the inside with sheet-iron and with iron braces, a genuine fortress postern. The blows made the house tremble, but did not shake the door. Nevertheless, it is likely that the inhabitants were alarmed, for they finally saw a little square window on the fourth floor light up and open, and at this window appeared a candle, and the pious and frightened face of a gray-haired man, the doorkeeper. The man who was knocking stopped.

(FMA translation)

What fascinates me is that the major action, the murder of the doorkeeper and subsequent execution of Le Cabuc, are not what is emphasized by present tense. Instead, it is the moment just preceding.

So it’s general knowledge that Le Cabuc is actually Claquesous, and also that he is probably a police plant in order to incite chaos. Hugo mentions during his introduction of Patron-Minette that they have contacts with the police who pay them to do dirty work or who they pay off to look the other way, depending on the circumstances. So we know Le Cabuc is both Claquesous and a plant. This explains his actions but not the tense change and its location in the scene.

If Hugo wanted to emphasize the senseless anarchy of Le Cabuc’s actions or the judgement of Enjolras, he’d have put the tense change there. Instead, he focuses on the moment just before. This moment also occurs before any combat at the barricade itself, which means it’s not necessarily focusing in on a moment of desperation, the kind of which Hugo describes later.

In the paragraphs before, Hugo sets up the weirdness of Le Cabuc’s actions by describing Le Cabuc himself and his relation to the barricade: he tells us that no one actually knows him, even those who “claimed to recognize him,” that he either is drunk or is acting drunk, that he’s encouraging others to drink, and that his clothes are “worn out at the shoulders”. (As an aside, the description of his dockhand’s jacket reminds me of Hugo’s description of Thenardier’s costume from The Changer; perhaps this is a disguise rented from The Changer as well.) Hugo tells us that Le Cabuc was unfamiliar, erratic, and odd, and then immediately launches into the scene at the door of the house.

I think the change in tense is meant to emphasize Le Cabuc’s actions by bringing to attention the weirdness of them before the main event. He’s initially described as being out of place, but the moment the tense changes, you realize he’s really, really out of place. Something is wrong here, these actions are not actions of someone who believes in the future of the rebellion; they are reckless and thoughtless even before the moment of killing.

At no point during the assault on the barricade do the insurgents break into any purely residential home; they do use the bistro and its subsequent residential floors, but they do not break down any doors to people’s houses alone. A random citizen insurgent’s sudden decision/desire to shoot from upper floors and to bash down the doors of someone’s home to do so is weird. Le Cabuc’s desire is met by a calm rejection: “Yes, but the house is shut up” and “They won’t open.” The insurgents who respond to Le Cabuc know that it’s not an option and they aren’t trying to force it to be one. The people must decide for themselves, Le Cabuc cannot decide for them.

Also, the English translation doesn’t do this, but as far as I can tell, there are actually 3 different words used for the knocks on the door. The first “cognons” (knock), then “frappe” (strike), then “coup” (blow). His knocks get progressively more aggressive and angry the longer there is no response.

So the present tense immediately brings us to attention. There’s something weird going on, something wrong, this person is not supposed to be acting this way. Hugo almost seems to use this moment of present tense in the same way he uses it during the Waterloo section: the reader is suddenly meant to be in the moment, imagining it as vividly as possible. The reader is no longer passively reading, suddenly they, like Enjolras and the other insurgents at the barricade, are watching this man run to a door and try and beat it down, and they’re confused by his actions and don’t quite know what to make of it.

As soon as the story changes back to past tense, it’s obvious that something bad is going to happen. We all know there’s no way the residents are going to open the door, and Le Cabuc has only just been introduced as weird and unfamiliar. Hugo doesn’t need to keep that intense hold on the reader anymore; he’s got us.

Le Cabuc briefly becomes “the man who was knocking” before again being referred to as Le Cabuc. Another moment of weirdness used to emphasize the uncertainty of Le Cabuc’s actions and identity. The switch into present tense is bracketed by descriptions of Le Cabuc’s unfamiliarity and unknown-ness.

So this switch to present tense is Hugo suddenly jumping from telling a story to telling a moment; he’s now in journalism mode, giving us a play-by-play of something that ocurred, because it’s important and a lead-up to something even more important. So why change back? Why isn’t all of Le Cabuc’s scene in present tense?

Because at this point, we know all of the subsequent action is going to be important. Le Cabuc’s actions are the first actions of an insurgent (or “insurgent”) on the barricade. The only other events preceding were the actual raising of the barricade and the capture of Javert, both of which do not involve anyone outside of the rebellion itself, citizen or soldier. (I say this because Javert is disguised as an insurgent, so he’s already behind the barricade and part of the action within.) This is the first moment after the building of the barricade that any outsider is involved. The change is there to make us realize that something weird is going on, but the return to past tense happens because remaining in present tense isn’t necessary. We all know shit is going to go down, and we’re paying attention now.

This is also the moment that forces the hand of a “Good” character to commit violence; it is the only moment when a Good character actively kills another in a way that is not directly related to battle. This moment is important, but it doesn’t need the distraction of a tense change to emphasize it. The jarring change wakes us up, jolts us out of our reading stupor, so we are ready for this terrible and “savage” moment, a moment where Enjolras judges and condemns not only Le Cabuc, but himself as well.

During the Waterloo section, and at the very end of the book when describing Valjean’s grave, Hugo uses present tense to paint a vivid picture, going on for a while and describing the scene’s visuals. This moment uses the present tense in a more journalistic way, forcing the reader to participate in the immediate moment, watching like everyone else. It’s this usage which forces us to be hyper-aware of the strangeness of Le Cabuc’s actions and to question who he is and why he is there; this is why both his death and his revealed identity only paragraphs later are a surprise but make perfect sense. The switch to present tense isn’t an emphasis; it’s an alert, a warning, a wake-up call. Pay attention, from here on out everything happens quickly, in the dark or the half-light or covered in blood, and intentions, morals, and actions are now more important than ever.

#les miserables #les mis #les miserables meta #les mis meta #le cabuc #claquesous

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animeimagineposts · 5 years ago

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How You Meet (3) FMA Brotherhood

KIMBLEE

You’d been drafted into the war only a couple of years in, and you’d seen a lot of horrors unfold before your once innocent eyes. Your main job as the Life Alchemist was to heal wounded people on both sides. One day explosions rang out all around the building you were stationed in, the work of the Crimson Alchemist, a man you’d been told only cared about himself.

Once the explosions stopped, a man enters your station holding up an injured soldier; the man was none other than the Crimson Alchemist. Stunned, you approach them both and get the soldier onto a bed. ‘Why do you look surprised, miss? You see blood daily,’ he asks.

You bite your lip, ‘I’ve heard rumours—‘

He scoffs, ‘that I’m heartless right? Ignore them and get to know me err...’

‘y/n, I’m the Life Alchemist. Thank you for bringing him in, and I’m sorry for listening to rumours,’ you reply calmly.

He approaches you and smirks, before taking your hand in his and kisses your knuckle, ‘please call me Kimblee. I’ll be seeing you soon doc.’ and before you can reply, he’s already gone, and explosions start up again.

GREED

A week ago, you walked in on your partner cheating on you with your best friend, and it seemed that wherever you went, they always showed up wanting to rub their relationship in your face. Tonight you were sat at the bar alone when the two of them enter holding hands, ‘two years and he cheats on me,’ you hiss under your breath.

They approach you all smiles, ‘all alone y/n? Your ex smirks.

However, before you can say something snarky, an unfamiliar arm snakes its way around your shoulder followed by a deep masculine voice, ‘sorry I’m late, who are these people?’ You turn around and are taken aback by the handsome man,

‘This is my ex-partner and my ex-best friend.’ Next thing you know, the man leans down and smashes his lips down on yours, and instead of jumping the kiss feels natural.

He pulls back and grins almost manically, ‘well now I’m the lucky guy who gets to enjoy you y/n.’

The two people in front of you look angry that you’ve moved on, even though you’d never met this guy before tonight. You lean your face up towards your saviour, ‘and what do I call my hero,’ you whisper. ‘Greed,’ he replies.

LUST

Ed and Al were busy running around Central, causing mischief, leaving you to your own devices. Using back alleys to cut through the busy streets, you bump into the back of a woman with long black hair, ‘sorry.’

The woman laughs, ‘if it isn’t the pipsqueak’s friend and state alchemist y/n. You can call me Lust.’ Lust turns around, and you find yourself blushing, this being the first time you’d ever seen her, and now you realised why she was the embodiment of Lust.

She eyes you up and down, ‘unexpected. I never expected those kids to be friends with such a divine creature.’

You bite your lip, ‘I could say the same thing about you, Lust. You’re nothing like Ed, and Al described.’

Lust closes the space between the two of you and cups your chin with her delicate yet deadly fingers, before licking her lower lip, ‘we should have some fun y/n.’

ENVY

‘Al has no right to call me jealous of Ed and Winry. They can date whoever they want,’ you huff in frustration, as you walk down an alley kicking stones.

‘My, what I have just walked into? You’re a sight Life Alchemist,’ an unfamiliar voice mocks from behind.

You freeze, then spin on the spot coming face to face with Envy, ‘go away Envy; I want to be alone.’

Envy closes the space between you in lightning speed and runs their fingers through their hair, ‘I’m not going anywhere Life Alchemist. How about we have some fun with the Elrics?’

A mischievous smile graces your lips, ‘why not, what do I have to lose Envy?’

Envy matches your smile with one equally terrifying and rubs their hands together, ‘this night isn’t going to be so boring after all.’

BUCCANEER

Only Ed and Al could get themselves locked up in Fort Briggs having been here less than half a day. You had a past with General Armstrong, so she lets you have free roam around the Fort. You come across the room where Ed got a lecture about his automail not being suitable for the climate and see Captain Buccaneer grunting in frustration because Al’s head was still caught in his automail.

You enter, ‘err excuse me, can I help you, Captain? I’m sorry about the Elric’s.’

He grimaces but offers you his arm, ‘how do you know the General?’

You sigh and start untangling Al’s ‘hair’, ‘I met her briefly at my time at the academy, she offered me a position here, but I was assigned to Central.’

He nods. And after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence, you get Al’s head free, and he flexes his automail, ‘nights might have been less boring if you were around y/n,’

You blush, ‘I could persuade the General to get me transferred out here if you like Captain.’

He also blushes, but quickly turns his face away to avoid any additional embarrassment.

MARIA

Today you’d been assigned babysitting duty of the Elric brothers alongside 2nd Lieutenant Maria Ross. Her usual partner Danny Brosh was off sick, so here you were. You approach the brunette and salute, ‘y/n l/n reporting for duty.’

Maria salutes back, ‘nice to meet you y/n. Be prepared because these boys are a handful.’

You snort, ‘if we pair up they won’t be able to pull the wool over our eyes, Maria.’

Maria grins, ‘and because Roy Mustang is your family, you can pretty much get away with anything.’

The two of you spend the next couple of hours while the brothers were in the library getting to know one another, and planning how to keep the Elric’s in line.

#fullmetal alchemist #fullmetal alchemist fandom #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood imagines #fullmetal alchemist blog #fma #fma brotherhood #fma fanfiction #fma fandom #anime #anime blog #greedling #fma greed #fma lust #fma envy #fma buccaneer #solf j kimblee #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood

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littlemisssquiggles · 6 years ago

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RWBY Musings #72: A Farm Boy and his Bot. What if…Oscar gains his very own robot companion for the Atlas Arc?

So lately, I’m beginning to adore the concept of Oscar eventually gaining some kind of magical or rather unusual companion inspired by another known character from the Wizard of Oz. In my last musing post, I mentioned Oscar assuming control of Salem’s winged Beringels so that he may control them as the RWBY-verse’s equivalent of the Golden Cap.

Now I’m here to present another Oz-inspired possibility. What if…while in Atlas, Oscar either builds and/or gains the friendship of an Atlesian robot and this character will draw reference from the Oz character: Jack Pumpkinhead.

Oscar’s Robot

For those of you who might not know:

According to Wikipedia, in the second Oz book, the Marvellous Land of Oz, Jack Pumpkinhead is an animated homunculus. Jack is described as being incredibly tall with a skinny figure made from tree limbs and jointed with wooden pegs. He has a large carved jack-o’-lantern for a head which is where his name is derived from. Although, unlike most jack-o-lanterns, the seeds and other pumpkin guts were not removed from Jack so it substitutes for his brain.

Jack was originally made by a little boy named Tip (the male persona of Princess Ozma before she ultimately regained her true form) to scare his guardian, an old witch named Mombi. When Mombi saw Jack, she nearly smashed him to pieces but instead, decided to test out her new Powder of Life on him. The powder worked and made Jack come to life.

Jack has been noted to not be known for his intelligence which varies depending on the quality and number of seeds in his pumpkin-head at the time. Despite this, Jack manages to come up with random bits of wisdom and common sense often. That is the character of Jack Pumpkinhead.

As we know, Oscar Pine is alluded to Princess Ozma. Since Ozma is the original creator and parent of Jack Pumpkinhead, what if…Oscar will build his own Pumpkinhead in reference to how Tip made Jack Pumpkinhead or…perhaps Pumpkinhead is an Atlas Academy practice droid designed by Atlas for its students to gain hands on training during their combat simulation drills by fighting sentient machines

Perhaps…Pumpkinhead was an out-dated model that the school failed to maintain over the years. The bot had taken so many hits that it was due for decommissioning before being sent on its way to the junkyard scrap heap to be salvaged for it parts along with the others in its outdated series since Atlas was due to upgrade to newer, more efficient models in coming time.

Or…at least that was the plan before Oscar more or less rescues (technically steals) the machine---keeping it stored away where he and the other heroes were housed in Atlas---a full house suite organized for them courtesy of Winter Schnee and the General and overseen by Weiss who basically acts as landlady making sure nobody wrecks the place her sister generously helped organize for them. So Oscar keeps Pumpkinhead secured in his room while doing his best to repair the bot piece by piece with as limited resources as he had on his own time.

At first the former farm hand kept Pumpkinhead a secret away from the other heroes. But ultimately Oscar had no choice but to come clean about the tall, pumpkin-headed secret he’s been hoarding in his bedroom.

I’m kind of amused at the idea of Oscar being the type to pick up a stray robot without question. I think if done in the canon it could be a reference to Oz while providing a call back to Fullmetal Alchemist. After all, in FMA, Oscar’s VA--Aaron Dismuke played Alphonse Elricand us ole school FMA fans know how Alphonse was notorious for picking up stray cats.

Picture…Oscar pulling an Alphonse just with picking up a stray sentient robot he was trying to patch-up. One of my favourite Pinehead headcanons is that Oscar has a natural born talent for mechanical engineering as a testament to his upbringing back on his family farm.

In the V6 opening, Oscar could be spotted reading an Atlas Mechanics magazine during his shot with JNR and Qrow. A throwaway detail or conceivably a foreshadowing nod to what’s to be seen of this farm boy’s hidden talents during the Atlas Arc?

I’d absolutely love it if Oscar is good at repairing machinery with robots being no exception. I think that could be a really interesting skill for him to have. Plus picture the look on everyone’s faces to learn that our veteran farm boy’s got a knack for tinkering with them mechanical thingamabobbles and gadgets.

Remember how back in V2, Ruby snuck Zwei onto Team RWBY’s off-campus field trip to Mountain Glenn with Oobleck and we got that funny bit where Oobleck calls Ruby out only for Zwei to unceremoniously pop out of Ruby’s backpack; barking defiantly at her when she hisses for him to get back in the bag.

RWBY Squiggle Script #016: Pumpkinhead

Picture it. A similar scenario like that with Oscar where an online, Pumpkinhead is unceremoniously uncovered in Oscar’s bedroom closet and the farm boy is awkwardly put on the spot to explain himself; all the while standing between his profoundly stupefied comrades and teammates (at least Jaune, Nora, Ruby and Weiss for the sake of this scene. Let’s say the others were away on other errands or something) and a spooked Pumpkinhead who sat curled up in a ball behind Oscar, frightened by the unfamiliar non-Oscar faces.

Jaune: ….Oscar, is that a… 8ft robot standing in your bedroom?

Oscar: Actually he’s 7ft 11 inches tall to be exact. But…yeah…it’s---it’s a robot.

Jaune: Okay, let me try asking again. Oscar, why is there a 7ft 11 inches tall robot in your bedroom?

Oscar: *chuckling nervously with a shrug* Would you believe me if I said he followed me home?

Weiss: *incredulously* Oscar, be serious. Did you steal that Atlesian Practice droid?

Oscar: *awkward laughing intensifies* Psssh no, of course not. I told you. He followed me...sort of. Look I’ll explain everything just promise me you won’t freak out if I tell you.

Despite their equally doubting expressions, the others settled down to listen to Oscar’s explanation.

Oscar: It started a while back. It was the first Battle Sim class for us first years and our professor wanted us to practice combat against a moving target. For that class we were each paired up with a practice droid to spar with. I got this fella. *pats Pumpkinhead* For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to…hurt him. The minute I raised my weapon, he just looked at me and curled up all frightened and shaken. I know that sounds really, really crazy but… it did happen. Even my teacher took notice and started yelling at me to take it down. Show no mercy against the enemy, he said. Even if that enemy is a defenceless practice droid who was more scared of you and…refused to fight. So naturally, I refused to fight too.

I won’t attack an opponent who isn’t trying to harm me. So I ended up not fighting at all and…as you’d expect, the teacher sent me straight to Ironwood.

Jaune: *incredulously* So that’s why you were in trouble before? For refusing to beat up one practice droid?

Oscar: *nods* Yeah. Turns out you can get a full month’s detention for anything at Atlas Academy. As punishment, I was put in charge of helping with droid maintenance. The robo-tech guy supervising me is a real piece of work, to say the least, but other than that, it wasn’t half bad. I didn’t mind looking after the droids. From there, I noticed this guy following me around a lot. Even when he was supposed to be offline, everywhere I turned, he was there just…staring at me. I guess you could say he took a weird shine to me after our forfeit fight. It was really weird and really uncomfortable, at first.

But after a while I got use to the stares and actually started to appreciate the company. *chuckles* You can say he’s been my fateful companion during the more boring detention days and he’s a surprisingly good listener. Doesn’t say much…or…do much except stare but I think we became friends.

Weiss: *dubiously*…You befriended…a robot?

Oscar: *defensively* It can happen.

Ruby: He’s right. It can.

Weiss: *exasperated* Please don’t encourage him.

Nora: Can you guys quit interrupting? I wanna know what happens next? Go on Oscar.

Oscar: *frowning* Well…what happened next is actually the worst part. One detention, I didn’t find him with the other bods. Some first years from my class had rented him out for some extracurricular target practice.

Ruby: What… happened?

Oscar: *exasperated; fist clenching* What’d you think? They broke him! Wrecked him up really bad. Students are allowed to fight the droids after school but these students overdid it. And what’s worst is that after they were done, they just…left him. The robo-tech will clean up the mess for us, they said. They didn’t even bother returning him. Just left him in pieces. I tried to tell them off but I was useless. They just pushed me aside.

Nora: *annoyed* Please tell me you reported those jerks!

Ruby: Did you tell someone? Ironwood? The robo-tech?

Oscar: I tried but…it just made things worse. I told the robo-tech about what happened but… he didn’t care. I asked him if he could repair him but he said… *scoffs* He said fixing damaged goods isn’t in his payroll. It’s not in his job requirements to fix the bots, he’s just supposed to polish them up and make them look pretty. Who cares if a couple of them get ruined in a few rough sparring matches? Atlas’ got the funds so why bother fixing the broken bots when they could just as easily replace them with newer models. If I had left him as is, he would’ve been scrapped! I…couldn't just…leave him like that. I had to do something so…

Ruby: …So…you saved him?

Weiss: He stole it!

Oscar: I…*head handing guiltily* Yeah, I stole him, yes.

Weiss: I can’t believe it. We’ve been hoarding a felon.

Ruby: Weiss, quit being so overdramatic.

Weiss: I am not!

Nora: So…exactly how long have you been hiding this bot here under our noses?

Oscar: Let’s see, one…two weeks so probably…about a month.

Groans all around, the most audible being Weiss’. Ruby being Ruby appeared more sympathetic.

Ruby: Well… he seems to be up and running now. Why didn’t you try taking him back to the school again?

Oscar: He’s not completely fixed yet. There’s still more work to be done but I can only do some much with such little tools and with such a little workspace. Besides I already tried that but...he won't let me. I think he's too scared to go back there after what those kids did to him.

Weiss: He’s scared? He's a machine!

Ruby: Weiss, even machines can have feelings too.

Weiss: But---

Oscar: *wearily* Do you guys mind lowering your voices please? He doesn't like it when you yell. He hates loud noises.

At this, Oscar gently pats the tall robot behind him.

Oscar: It's okay big guy. We won't yell anymore. It's okay, Pumpkin.

Ruby: *snorts* Pumpkin?

Oscar:*embarassed* Uhh…yeah. It’s short for Pumpkinhead.

Nora: Aww. That's kind of sweet.

Weiss: *arms crossed with an incredulous expression* You named it!

Jaune: *reasonably* Oscar, I understand you want to help this bot but you do realize he's Atlas Academy property. You can't just keep him in the house. He's not a pet.

Oscar: *pouting* I know I can’t keep him but he's still pretty messed up. If I take him back to the school as he is now, they'll throw him away for sure. At least let me try and fix him first. Please.

Jaune: Oscar...

Oscar: *imploringly* Please.

Jaune and Nora exchanged unsure looks. Weiss huffed but in the end it was Ruby who spoke up.

Ruby: Okay.

Weiss: What! Ruby you're not serious!

Ruby: It's like Oscar said, we can’t send him back to the school broken. The least we can do is let him finish fixing him.

Weiss: Unbelievable.

Ruby: Weiss...

Ruby plants a firm hand on Weiss’ shoulder, looking at her squarely so she’s certain the Schnee girl could see her serious expression.

Ruby: Please.

Weiss stares at Ruby blankly for a few beats before finally sighing, admitting defeat.

Weiss: Fine. But it's not staying in here. *indicates to the bedroom* There’s an empty storage room downstairs in the basement. It's not much but it’s definitely more appropriate to house your...Pumpkin friend than a small bedroom closet. It’s yours till the bot is fixed and…I’ll see if I can get you some better tools to speed up the process. While I detest lying to my sister and the General, I guess I could always say it’s for a school project or something. Not making any promises.

Oscar beams.

Oscar: Thank you Weiss-cream.

Weiss: *eye twitching* Call me that again and you and your bot will be sleeping in the streets tonight.

Oscar: *nervously* Y---Yes ma’am. I promise I’ll move Pumpkin as soon as the storage room opens up.

Weiss: Good. Just…hurry up and fix it. The last thing we need is trouble with Atlas Academy.

---

As promised, Oscar moved Pumpkinhead immediately into the storage room after Weiss gave him access. In this next concocted scene, Pumpkin is safely secured with Oscar now standing behind him on a chair for added height while he worked diligently on repairing some of the remaining damages done to its head.

Oscar: Alright big guy. You’ll only feel a slight tickle but I promise it won’t hurt.

Pumpkinhead voices his disapproval with incoherent robot noises but otherwise stays trustingly cooperative while Oscar patches him. When Oscar was done, he patted the top of Pumpkinhead’s head with a proud grin, happy with his handiwork.

Oscar: There you go. Now that part’s all done for today. See. Not as bad as you thought, right bud? Nothing to be scared about.

Ruby: Didn't realize you were such a robot whisperer.

Oscar nearly falls off his chair as he zips around to find Ruby standing at the top of the staircase leading down into the storage room. She wore an amused smile; arms crossed as she came down.

Oscar: *embarrassed* Ru---Ruby? How---How long have you been standing there?

Ruby: *giggling* Not too long but long enough to see you sweet talk, Mr. Pumpkinhead over there. Are you sure you don’t need any help fixing him? Yang’s pretty handy; no pun intended and…I might know a thing or two that could help out too just so you know. I did built my weapon from scratch after all.

Oscar: Thanks but…as much as I’d love the extra hands, I don’t want to distress Pumpkin too much. He’s not really open to new people right now. Besides I used to help my uncle fix the machinery back on the farm. Fixing a giant robot, surprisingly not that different from fixing a tractor. I mean it is different but my Uncle Henry was the best mechanic I know. Taught me everything he knew and I've always loved a good pet project.

Wiping his grease stained hands on a handkerchief he kept in his back pocket, Oscar smiled broadly as he patted the top of Pumpkinhead’s exposed top once life time before closing it shut. After that, the young boy jumped down from his perch to stand next to Ruby, admiring the work he was able to get done that evening.

Oscar: *smiles at Ruby* It's a slow hurdle but at least we’re getting somewhere, y’know?

Ruby: *nods; smiling back* Well uh...you seem to be doing a pretty great job so far on your own. I'm actually really impressed.

Oscar: *blushing* For real?

Oscar tried leaning against a small table that was next to him; absently neglecting the table had wheels. Immediately Oscar scrambled to regain his balance and make sure the tools on top the table didn’t clatter to the floor and startle Pumpkinhead. While he was victorious in keeping the giant bot at ease, that didn’t stop him from momentarily making a spectacle of himself in front of Ruby who eyed him closely, hand covering her mouth to supress another giggle.

Oscar: *cheekily* I meant to do that.

For the sake of Oscar’s pride, Ruby ignored his last blunder as she slowly approached Pumpkinhead. Instantly, the bots beady white eyes swivelled around inside their socket to focus in on Ruby.

Ruby: He's looking a lot better from earlier.

Oscar: *rubbing the back of his neck bashfully; cheeks slightly flushed* Thanks. I owe Weiss big time for letting me use the storage room. It’s amazing how much more work I can get done when I’m not trying to hide a giant robot in my closet anymore.

Ruby nods wordlessly as she slowly edged closer to Pumpkinhead, eyes wide with curious wonder. Now Ruby was standing close to the robot’s legs. The instant she made an attempt to move further, that’s when the uproar started. Incoherent static mechanical noises echoed throughout the garage as Pumpkinhead made a fuss trying to move as far away from Ruby as possible.

Immediately, Oscar pulled Ruby back making sure to gently move her as far away from the robot as possible. After he did that, he ran to the robot’s side, doing his best to silence its distressed signals.

Oscar: Whoa! WHOA! Easy Pumpkin. She's a friend. She’s not going to hurt you. Easy bud, easy.

A few gentle words and reassuring pats later, Oscar managed to tame the robot yet again and Pumpkinhead settled silent once more. However its optical eye never left Ruby who now stood far, a bit shaken herself. Now it was her turn to be comforted by Oscar who returned to her side with a reassuring smile.

Oscar: … I should have warned you. Pumpkin doesn’t really like anyone coming near him except me. Sorry about that.

Ruby: No it’s….okay. Is he better now?

Oscar: Yeah, he should be good so long as you stay over here.

Ruby nodded. Rubbing her shoulder nervously, she made an attempt to break the awkwardness of her blunder.

Ruby: …So ......Pumpkinhead, huh?

Oscar: *chuckling* Name of the year, right?

Ruby: *smirking wryly* I guess. Why that name though?

Oscar: It’s an old boring farm boy story you probably wouldn’t want to here.

Ruby: *smiling* Oh yeah? Try me.

Her answer made Oscar smile.

Oscar: Well; when I was a little kid growing up on the farm, we had this old neighbour. I never learned what her real name was. I just used to call her Ms. M for mean because she was the meanest old lady in the world, at least to 10-year-old Oscar. Although she had her own farm with her own cornfields, she’d always let her pigs and her weird four horned cow wander onto our side of the land and destroy our crops before they could harvest.

Ruby: *disbelievingly* I’m sorry. A four-horned cow?

Oscar: *nods* Yep. And each time my family complained, she’d just laugh at us and still leave her animals to mess up our crops while hers remained perfectly fine. Not that it helped much. She was actually a really bad farmer and all her former farmhands couldn’t stand working for her.

Ruby: She sounds like quite the handful.

Oscar: She was. I hated that old lady. Aunt Em taught me that it’s not good to hate people but that lady was a real witch. She was never nice to me and she was even worst to my aunt. Reminds me a lot of that Mombi kid from school actually. Both are a bunch of bullies.

Anyways, one harvest, 10 year old me figured he had enough of Ms M and wanted to teach her a lesson. So I picked the biggest pumpkin I can carry and built this giant scare---er---pumpkin hoping he would scare Ms M and her animals off our land. You can probably guess what I named him.

Ruby: *drumming her finger against her chin, pretending to ponder* Hmm, think, think, think. *snaps fingers and grins* Pumpkinhead?

Oscar: *laughs* You've been paying attention.

Ruby: *giggles* So what happened? Did the OG Pumpkinhead scare away the old wicked witch next door?

Oscar: Nope. Didn't even phase her at all. Actually it was the ten shot gun bullets through the window from Aunt Em that did the trick. Never dared bother us again after that.

Ruby: *jaw hanging in a mix of shock and amusement* No way!

Oscar: *grinning wide* Yes way! I can still hear my Aunt Em now. Oscar, fetch me my gun! No, not that one! The bigger one with the bigger bullets.

At this point, Ruby was in stitches, hardly able to contain her laughter and Oscar joined her.

Ruby: *though laughter* I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time picturing your dainty old aunt firing a gun.

Oscar: *chuckling* There's an old Mistralian saying back home. You don’t mess with the west and if it hails from the south, get out. West and South Anima are mostly farming lands. If there are two things you don't play with in my neck of the woods, it's family and produce and that old witch had it coming big time.

I'd never forget the look on her face when my aunt marched straight up to her house and blew out all her windows. All ten of them on all sides. Not a single piece of glass was spared that day. Em even took out Ms. M’s glass eye. But for that she used a teeny, tiny pistol.

Ruby: *wheezing* You are making this up!

Oscar: *sarcastically* Would I lie?

Ruby gave Oscar a knowing look, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

Oscar: *chuckling* Okay, okay, you got me. That last part about the glass eye is made up but everything else is full proof. Farm boy's honour on my uncle’s grave.

Oscar grinned cheekily and Ruby only shook her head in amusement at the former farm hand.

Ruby: Wow. And I guess this Pumpkinhead reminds you of home.

Oscar: Yeah. Y'know he's not too different from the one on the farm. He's bright orange. Got two beady eyes and a crooked moon smile. Big ole pumpkin-sized head and skinny arms and legs---

At Oscar’s comments, Pumpkinhead made a noise from behind as if to show his displeasure of Oscar’s remarks about its physique. Oscar backpedals, turning to flash the robot a kind-hearted smile.

Oscar: *chuckles* I don't mean that in a bad way Pumpkin. You're a good boy. Yes you are, Whose the best Pumpkinhead in the world? You are!

At Oscar’s affectionate comments, the colour on Pumpkinhead’s eyes turned neon pink as if to reflect its delight of being coddled by Oscar and its robot legs even wiggled, as if mimicking a dog wagging its tails happily at its owner. It is a unexpectedly adorable moment that even makes Ruby gush. So much so that she forgets herself.

Ruby: *cooing; heart-eyes; clapping her hands excitedly* Awww, he is a sweet guy!

This time, Pumpkinhead sprung up suddenly; bursting through the cables that Oscar was partially using before in his current stage of repairing the bot as it shuffled behind whatever giant piece of infrastructure within the storage room was big enough to shield the bot from Ruby. From there Pumpkinhead remained.

Oscar groaned, rubbing his forehead. Ruby, in turn, looked to him guiltily.

Ruby: *apologetically* I am so, sorry. Things were getting so cheery, I forgot about…before. I’m really sorry Oscar. I guess Pumpkin really doesn’t like me now, huh?

Oscar: *exasperated but assuring* Don't…*sighs*…Don’t take it personally. It's not really you. Pumpkin’s scared of everyone. He's alright with me because I think I'm the first person who hasn't tried to hurt him before. Kind of a bad thing to say, isn’t it?

Ruby: Well...isn't he a practice droid? Aren't they built specifically for combat? To take a hit whenever on the battlefield?

Oscar: Yeah but...that doesn't necessarily mean he liked being used that way. What if all the other practice droids are like Pumpkin?

Ruby: I think your guy is a special case, Oscar.

Oscar: You’re probably right. But it makes you wonder doesn't it? I know you guys must think I'm being silly for caring about something that's technically not alive but...he feels alive to me. When he's scared...I feel his fear. I understand it as if it's my own. It's not his fault he was born to be this. He never asked to be made into a practice droid for others to beat up on him whenever they liked. It wasn't his choice. He just had to accept the role he was dealt with but just because this is his life now doesn’t mean he has to like it. He's free to feel scared and not be okay with everything.

Ruby eyed Oscar weirdly. Even though she knew he was speaking from the heart in defence of Pumpkinhead, she couldn’t help but get the impression that his words felt oddly off. As if there was more to them between the lines.

Ruby: *concernedly* Oscar, is everything...okay? With you?

Now it was Oscar’s turn to eye Ruby strangely.

Oscar: *surprised* Yeah I'm good. Why wouldn't I be?

Ruby: I---

Ruby opens her mouth to continue but instead decides against it; claiming it wasn’t the right time to pry.

Ruby: Nevermind.

Oscar looks over Ruby once more, waiting to see if she might say something else but when she doesn’t, he shrugs casually.

Oscar: I'm...going to go check up on Pumpkin. Did you need me for something?

Just like that, Ruby remembers why she came down to the storage room in the first place. She blushes, a bit embarrassed that she had gotten so distracted before.

Ruby: *awkwardly* Oh right! No, no, I just...came down to let you know dinner's almost ready.

Oscar: *smiles* Ooh good I'm starving actually. Let me just clean up here and I’ll join you up upstairs.

Ruby nods. As Oscar makes a move to tidy up to leave, that’s when Pumpkinhead peep its head out, eyes fixed on Oscar.

Oscar: Hey buddy, I'm going up to eat now. I won’t be gone for long but I need you to be on your best behaviour, okay?

Oscar had meant to sound more assuring but his attempt was met with distressed robotic chatter. At the noise, Oscar’s expressed dropped shamefacedly.

Oscar: …Look, I know you don't like it when I leave but…I’ll just be upstairs. I’ll only be gone for like four minutes. Three if I eat really fast.

The robotic distressed signals only intensified and Oscar slumps, face in hand.

Ruby: What's wrong?

Oscar: *sighing* He's…in one of his clingy moods, tonight. Must've been all the excitement from today. When he's stressed like this he doesn't like me to leave. Doesn't want to be left alone. *groans loudly* Guess I'm missing dinner.

Ruby: No you don't. I'll bring your plate down for you. I'll just let the others know we'll be having dinner in the garage tonight.

Oscar: Wait… we?

Ruby: Yeah. You, Pumpkinhead and me. *smiles brightly* You can keep Pumpkin company so he doesn’t stress out and I can keep you company. But…that's only if you---y’know, want my---

Oscar: No, no it’s cool. I---Pumpkin's not much of a talker anyways and...

Oscar flashes Ruby a smile.

Oscar: I'd like your company.

Ruby: *beaming* Great! I promise I won't overstep again this time. Besides…

Ruby turns her attention on Pumpkinhead who was still peeping out at them.

Ruby: *perkily*We may have had a rough start but don't worry Pumpkin, you and I will be bestest of friends in no time too.

Ruby flashes Pumpkinhead a big toothy smile, hitting him with a big ole Ruby Rose thumbs up only for Pumpkin to jolt and zip his head right back behind his hiding spot.

Oscar: *sweatdrops* Sorry.

Ruby: Playing hard to get I see. Not to worry, I've befriended your type before. You're not getting me to give up that easy.

With a determined huff that earns a chuckle from Oscar, Ruby turns on her heals to head back upstairs.

Oscar: Hey Ruby?

Ruby looks back.

Oscar: Thank you. From me and Pumpkin. *cheeks reddening* Mostly me.

Ruby says nothing. Instead she just smiles brightly, pleased with herself to see her friend smiling at her. With that, she leaves to go grab their food.

And scene.

What do you guys think? Now this squiggle meister has shared quite a bit of Oscar- themed theories and Pinehead headcanons before but I think this one has become one of my personal favourites especially as we’re going into the Atlas Arc.

I already got my wish last season with the introduction of flying monkey Grimm in the series. Now what I’d love to see next is Oscar awakening his inner mechanic and creating Pumpkinhead. And after Pumpkinhead, perhaps even Sawhorse will be integrated into RWBY as well as both characters were signature in Princess Ozma’s side of the story.

Words cannot fathom how much I really, really dig this idea. I really want Pumpkinhead to become a canon character in Oscar’s story now because I think it could be pretty cute for Oscar to have his very own robotic companion who he becomes attached to. Ruby had Penny but unlike Oscar, Penny wasn’t canonically invented by Ruby. Pinocchio wasn’t made by either Little Red Riding Hood or Dorothy Gale.

However Princess Ozma did create Jack Pumpkinhead and eventually Sawhorse.

Who knows? If my Pinehead theory comes true, perhaps Oscar will invent his own Pumpkinhead while in Atlas. Atlas is the most technologically advanced kingdom in Remnant so it is a huge possibility. Plus as I’ll point out again, this fits into the Wizard of Oz. If Oscar becomes an inventor on top of being a great and powerful wizard, I don’t think anyone can really complain because it comes with the source material he was influenced by.

Plus Oscar becoming an inventor could be something worth exploring as part of his individual story outside of his story with Ozpin. The whole Ozma reincarnation cycle and magic and longstanding battle with Salem to protect humanity became part of Oscar’s story via his connection with Ozpin who is essentially the Wizard of Oz.

But Oscar inventing Pumpkinhead is more connected to Princess Ozma who he draws reference from. So therefore, this is an opportunity to develop Oscar as his own character outside of Ozpin. Right now, most of Oscar’s story has primary been focused the part he shares with Ozpin.

That’s fine but… ya’ll know how much I have been advocating for Oscar to get his own fair share of development, right? And I think this is an idea on how RWBY can do that while drawing reference from the fairy-tale character Oscar was based off of. This is something the CRWBY Writers can do with Oscar while in Atlas as a means of fleshing him out. I’m just saying.

But y’know. For now, it’s only just another theory to add to the rest as always.

More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#rwby #oscar pine #rwby theories #rwby volume 7 theories #ruby rose #rwby musings #rwby volume 7 #rwby v7 theories #squiggles scripts: rwby

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howtofightwrite · 6 years ago

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Q&A: Prosthetics

Do you have any thoughts in general on disabled characters fighting or disabled people wanting to learn to fight in general (inside or outside of a classroom setting)? Realism is important but I find the way people dismiss the idea overly pessimistic so as to be kind of unrealistic in itself. But I suppose it depends on the disability and who the characters are fighting. Edward Elric is the only positive example I can think of that doesn’t put Ed on the sidelines for missing limbs.

The thing about characters like Edward Elric, and I suppose Adam Jenson, is that they have combat grade prosthetic replacements. (Not sure what it says that my immediate thought after FMA is the Deus Ex reboot, but, whatever.)

The thing about a disability, when it comes to combat is, it’s only a disadvantage if it impairs the user. At some levels it doesn’t matter if someone has all of their original parts, so long as they have all the parts they need.

In the case of both examples I just gave, the replaced limbs are actually upgrades. They incorporate functionality beyond the originals. Unless, they were supposed to have arm blades to begin with.

There’s historical precedence as well. Götz von Berlichingen was a 16th century German mercenary who lost his right arm to canon fire during a siege on Landshut in southern Germany. He replaced it with a prosthetic and continued to fight as a mercenary for decades. Incidentally, on the anime theme, Götz is almost certainly the inspiration for Guts from Berserk.

So, there is some, real precedence, for someone to be combat capable with a missing limb. And, of course, when you’re talking about a setting with combat grade cybernetics or magic, it’s entirely possible they may have the technology to replace lost limbs.

So, in settings like that, if your character has their prosthetic in working order, that’s not really a disability in the specific context of combat. In some cases, it’s an advantage. A metal or cybernetic replacement will be more durable than the original meat. That said, unless it’s specifically able to self-repair, any damage is persistent, and it would (probably) require maintenance and upkeep of some sort. Same thing holds true for eyes, ears, other things. If your setting allows those to be replaced with a prosthetic that is at least as good as the original body part, there’s no problem here.

If someone is straight up missing a limb, that’s going to seriously impair their ability to fight. This isn’t just a disability issue either. If you’ve two functioning arms, and one of them is seriously injured to the point where you can’t use it in the fight, that’s basically the same disadvantage as someone who lost the use of theirs years ago, or never had one.

Also worth noting that in the real world, prosthetics have come a long way in the last few years. I haven’t seen anything I’d call combat grade out there, but it will happen, sooner than we’d expect.

I mentioned it in passing, but it’s a similar story with eyes or blindness. If your character has cybernetic replacements, or has gems of true seeing fused into their sockets and connected to their mind through enchantment, it really doesn’t matter if they don’t have their original eyes, they can see. In some cases they may have superior functionality.

There’s another edge case here, a character with an enhanced prosthetic eye might not need both eyes to function, provided it offers range finding function. You can file this under, “be creative.”

Also, if you do have a character with prosthetics, you’ll probably want to spend some time focusing on that. It’s an important part of who your character is, and how they interact with the world around them. It’s also aspect of their experience which is going to be unfamiliar to most readers.

The manga version of Full Metal Alchemist pays a lot of attention to Edward’s prosthetics, and their effects on him. So, the arm isn’t just a cosmetic freebie, it’s a part of the character and something that needs constant attention and work. It’s a good model to take if you’re wanting to go this route.

I’m just going to add here, there’s nothing wrong with someone who has a disability wanting to learn Martial Arts. This happens all the time, and it can be an excellent, positive, experience for them.

Not every teacher or school is the same, and I’m sure there are some out there who don’t live up to the standards I’m about to set, but any good martial arts instructor will seek to aid each student, and adapt for their physical limitations.

I’m all for people with physical disabilities finding a martial art that fits them, if that’s what they want. It can be helpful, both on an emotional, and physical therapy, level.

If you are disabled, regardless of the severity, and want to learn a martial art, go for it. Seriously. It will require effort on your part, but that’s going true of everyone, disabled or not. Special accommodations may be necessary, but that’s part of your instructor’s job. Above all, be honest with your instructors about your limitations.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. If you enjoy our content, please consider becoming a Patron. Every contribution helps keep us online, and writing. If you already are a Patron, thank you.

Q&A: Prosthetics was originally published on How to Fight Write.

#prosthetics #writing advice #writing reference

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bluephoenixdruidicprincess · 6 years ago

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SPN 14x18, Absence -- Review

The controversial episode is at last upon us. This week we had 14x18, Absence and I have some thoughts on this episode. Now, I haven't read any other metas for this episode before writing this so I apologize if I'm repeating thoughts that have already been vocalized. There will be spoilers so I strongly advise against reading this if you haven't seen the episode.

Overall Thoughts

We'll begin with how I felt overall with this episode. Structurally, this was a very good episode. It had two central purposes it needed to fulfill and I think it did a very good job with that; saying good-bye to Mary and the culmination of Jack's descent into the Dark Side. The music was perfect. The cinematography was fantastic in this episode. The framing in these shots were beautiful. It really made you feel like you were in the episode. Cinematography often tells a story in much the same way that writing does and I really appreciated how well the cinematography was telling this story. Like for instance, the moment in the very end of the episode where they're burning Mary's body and it's being done at a crossroads and the camera pulls away at the very end to reveal the crossroads, it just gives you this very eery feeling of how things are not okay. It's symbolic of the crossroads Sam, Dean, and Cas are currently on. Where do they go from here? How do they tackle this conflict they're currently in? Which path do they take? And it's also very telling that Sam and Cas are on a different crossroads path than Dean in that scene. Sam and Cas are on the crossroads that leads to the impala which is symbolic of home and family and Dean is on a completely different crossroads path. And of course, the crossroads can also be seen as representative of the crossroads Jack is currently on, as well. Where does he go from here? Because of his one action, a reflex at that, everything has changed for him and he has no idea which path to take. Should he take the path that leads to the impala? A part of him is afraid to do that because he knows nothing will be the same again even if the Winchesters accept him despite what happened to Mary. Or should he take a different path that he's never known before? He's also scared to do that because it's unfamiliar as well. So that one pull away shot did a fantastic job of depicting all of that in a few short seconds.

Saying Good-Bye to Mary Winchester

I'm of two minds on the death of Mary Winchester Part Two. I don't particularly appreciate what this show does to its female characters in order to provide man-pain. But I do definitely feel like in this moment, Mary fared better than a lot of the other female characters in this show's past. This episode basically served as an entire memorial of Mary and that's something we don't typically get a lot of on this show so I will give the show that. And I also appreciate the symmetry in her death. In her first death, she was trying to protect Sam from Azazel and essentially at the same time, protecting Sam from his own fate, protecting Sam from himself. And in this moment, 14 years later, she's also trying to protect Jack from himself. So always and forever in her last moments, she's trying to protect her children and I admire that. And I also enjoy the opposition of her death in which her first death was something that was no doubt quite painful for her but her second death was something that was painless and she probably didn't even realize it was happening. I'm a little salty that her death was something that happened off-screen and that it wasn't a "blaze of glory" kind of thing and that it was something as stereotypical as a mother trying to protect her child but at the same time, I also can appreciate that as well. If that makes any sense? And I enjoy the idea behind Mary finally being at complete joy and peace with John. Now, is this The John or is it a representation of her memories? Who knows? I like to think it's The John, though. What with everything that happened in the 300th episode. Is it strange that John's name also wasn't included on her door? A little. But that's not to mean that John doesn't have another door that leads to that same heaven. As humans, we like to think in straight lines but heaven wasn't created by humans so I doubt it functions in a straight line capacity.

I always figured Mary was going to die eventually so it wasn't really all that shocking. She's basically had one foot on Death's porch since she first met Billie in season 12. And I've been thinking on Amara a little bit on this and on whether or not the Universe as its own entity actually approved of the resurrection of Mary. Perhaps, Jack's existence was the Universe's way of rectifying the decision that Amara made. I feel like we've seen both with Mary and Samuel that the longer you're dead and then brought back, you come back just a little bit different. You feel off in a way, like you shouldn't be there. I think Samuel tried to hide it by latching onto Mary and thinking, "If I just have Mary back then maybe this feeling of wrongness will go away." And a lot of season 12 I think played into Mary trying to figure out a place in the world all the while still feeling like she was somehow "wrong". She eventually got to a place where maybe not feeling 100% like she belonged, but she found contentment and she was able to kind of bury it down. But anyway, that's just a head canon I play around with sometimes.

I loved how so much of this episode was done in flashbacks paying homage to Mary and showing exactly what she meant to each of them and I thought that was very nice. All to culminate in the very end of them in the funeral having to say good-bye to her.

Let's Talk About Jack

Jack was really interesting in this episode. Particularly, in his dealings with what I refer to as Negative Jack. Yeah, yeah, I know. It was in the form of Nick and/or Lucifer but at least my reading on it was that it's not about Nick or Lucifer directly. What Jack was seeing was an amalgamation of the negative issues he houses inside his subconscious. All of his insecurities and fears, it popped up to appear as Lucifer because that's how Jack views Lucifer. He views Lucifer as everything he fears to become, everything negative about him essentially. And that's what Mark Pellegrino was actually depicting. Not Lucifer, not Nick, but Negative Jack. Of course, the show could easily come back and say that parts of Lucifer slivered in from that botched resurrection of Nick's but until that happens I'm going with this. And it's a really interesting concept. We've all had those moments where we've allowed out negativity to take over us and cause us to make decisions that maybe aren't in our best interests or what's not particularly good for us. And it's really interesting to see Jack going through this with the aid of a physical manifestation of his own negativity. We're basically seeing Jack's negativity influencing his decision making. He's afraid that he has no soul and that's the reason why Negative Jack tells him what he's feeling is only a muscle reflex, that in actuality he doesn't feel guilt about Mary. Jack, of course, does feel guilt about it but the Negative side of him is afraid that he isn't so it's influencing him in that direction. He fears that the Winchesters will never forgive him so Negative Jack tells him they'll never forgive him. And even if they did, "they'll never trust you again so you shouldn't trust them." It's Jack's Negativity based out of his own fears and insecurities that's telling him to cut his ties and reasoning with him that that's the best course of action, he's losing to that negativity.

And in regards to Jack and the botched Mary resurrection, I was getting some hardcore flashbacks to Full Metal Alchemist and I loved it. The whole idea of necromancy and Rowena saying that Jack was not in a state to do this kind of spell it just really reminded me of the "give and gain" aspect of Full Metal Alchemist where when practicing Alchemy, in order to gain something you have to give something up. Now in Full Metal Alchemist, the "give" aspect is much more literal and physical but that's FMA not Supernatural, a whole different set of rules. The fact that Rowena was talking about how Jack's current mental state could affect how the spell went, it was interesting to think about that the spell could essentially call upon the caster's mental state to basically serve as the "give" ratio thereby you're giving a piece of yourself to bring someone back which is also quite reminiscent of what happened earlier this season with Lily Sunder. And what the spell takes from you can affect what would be brought back. If Jack was calm and positive, maybe he could've brought back Mary? But the spell feasting on his negativity could've called upon anything and brought back an evil ghost or maybe even Azazel himself? But I also think due to Jack's desperation and a sense of feeling like he needed to do this as opposed to wanting to do this, there was a sense of emptiness in him which is why an empty shell was brought back. He didn't feel like he needed to bring back Mary because it was the right thing to do, himself being dead earlier that season perhaps wishing he was being given more of a choice in the matter maybe, but he felt like he owed it to his family to bring her back. Throughout the episode, I never felt like Jack WANTED to bring back Mary, it always felt like he HAD to. And when you feel you have to do something out of obligation and not from a general want, it can create this emptiness in you. But that's how I look at it.

All in all, I enjoyed this episode. I thought it was really interesting and I'm going to give it a B. I thought it was very well executed. It gave us a lot of interesting material to think about and I enjoy that. And I’m excited to see where the remaining two episodes of the season are going to take us.

Tagging @metafest like usual. Sorry, y'all that I didn't really contribute last week. Last week was an episode I didn't have any thoughts on, meta or otherwise.

And if you're wondering about my take on the "you're dead to me" aspect of the episode (as I was a little vocal about it during the promo), I'm going to tackle that in another post. I don't want to really burden my friends at Metafest with my Bitter Cas Fan opinions on that.

#spn 14x18 #spn 14.18 #14x18 #14.18

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spinneryesteryear · 2 years ago

Text

Shadowbringers Reactions

- finally transcribing the notes I took while playing through 5.0 three years ago and posting them here so I can find them again later. For context’s sake, I played through SHB on DRK.

-- honestly, who DIDN’T already know that was G’raha Tia?

-- he’s like half my character’s height and several years younger. So tempted to channel my inner mom/big sister friend and ask him if he knows how much trouble he’s caused. Buuuuuut I also don’t want to be too harsh on him bc he seems lonely and desperate for help. (Sorry, G’raha, but if you have a crush on me, you’re outta luck bc Sidurgu is my husband and I’m not cheating on him for some mere catboy, no matter how adorable.)

-- so glad the first Viera we meet is professional and properly clothed. So glad.

-- thank u G’raha for actually giving directions. Now if only the quest markers were taken away and we had to fumble our way through an unfamiliar city like in Morrowind haha

-- I just met Moren but he’s adorable and I hope nothing bad happens to him (*hollow laughter*)

-- G’RAHA U LITTLE S*** I KNOW IT’S YOU DON’T LIE TO ME

-- I suppppooooooooose they could want use to theorize that it’s G’raha’s body puppeted by some ancient Allagan archmagus like that one girl possessed by Noah who appears in Mor Dhona after you complete the Crystal Tower storyling, but lbr we all know it’s G’raha Tia and nobody did that quest Noah gave anyway

-- NOOOOOOOO NOT POETICS AGAIN

-- that is not at all the voice I expected from Feo Ul but it seems fitting. Still don’t wanna make a pact, tho. I fear the fae, quite rightly

-- pixie duuuuuuuuuuust!

-- where’s my option to have Feo Ul tell my husband and kids I’m alive and well?

-- ngl I kept expecting making a pact with a fay to backfire on us horribly and so I was side-eyeing Feo Ul something fierce all the way to lvl 79 in anticipation of betrayal or sudden shrubbery

-- ARBERT I LOVE YOU

-- okay so like if dark knights can summon Fray can we summon Arbert as some sort of ‘inner light’ bc that would be awesome

-- my inn room looks like a train station

-- instant suspicion: meol is somehow cannibalism

-- Alphinaud may have better financial sense now but he’s no better at stealth

-- *wandering around Kholusia* imagine how embarrassing of a death it would be for a lvl 70 to die pecked to death by toucans

-- those red and blue jongleurs are going to be boss fights, aren’t they? I remember the twins from the Ghimlyt Dark

-- Alphinaud once again demonstrates a greater sense of justice than tact

-- I genuinely have no idea how we’re going to get out of this situation in Eulmore

-- Vauthry giving me Aldrich Devourer of Gods vibes here

-- just let me go full Fray on this fatty already

-- so, wait, just HOW did we get out of Eulmore without having to fight anyone trying to detain us?? Did they seriously not try to stop us in any way???

-- that’s *definitely* not the voice I expected to hear from a kobold (Ghen Gen)

-- well, a Sin Eater transformation is suitably horrifying. Why did I watch this cutscene right before going to sleep. Why. (Flashbacks to Nina & Alexander in FMA.)

-- so... are black mages and white mages wholly to blame for the flood or was it mainly due to another shard getting swamped with water? Also was the 7th calamity of ice, seeing what befell Ishgard? (HC: Nidhogg hijacked some of the Calamity’s aetheric fallout to blanket Coerthas in snow. He cnaonically controlls the weather and aether around the Aery, so why not?)

-- I SPLIT OPEN THE SKY AND RESTORED THE NIGHT AHHHHHHHHH

-- Ardbert making a cameo in the background like a lil warrior lightbulb

-- so apparently they’ve revealed the ‘true’ names of the Warriors of Darkness, after I went to the effort of memorizing their original names on the Source :|

-- so does Ran’jit mean beastmaster is confirmed as a future job? or is he just a monk with a pet flying snake?

-- YAAAAAS THANCRED

-- why do these villains thing they can beat me down so effortlessly when I do the duty on DRK and keep up my health just fine until the fail-safe OHKO kicks in (basically Zenos only defeated me the first time bc I went AFK for dinner)

-- the Crystal Exarch makes me like Allagan stuff for the first time

-- I distract myself from wanting to punch Solus in the face by mentally comparing his hi-poly model to the lower-poly models of everyone else around him (that cutscene with Varis was particularly jarring in this regard) and laughing to myself

-- okay so the pixies are just straight up fae folk, yikes yikes yikes

-- I laugh so hard every time the camera does its ‘pan from multiple angles’ thing to show off a character’s new outfit. Especially when it’s Urianger.

-- so in Urianger’s vision of the future the WoL apparently goes down next to Alphinaud and Alisaie and, man, it just makes my heart hurt to see the three corpses lying together like that. Especially since my character is the total mom friend and has reluctantly come to consider them both almost as her own kids.

-- it IS interesting that Urianger and Alisaie always address each other first/have the most interactions

-- Alphinaud be like ‘at LAST, someone else who cannot swim and can help me bear the brunt of Alisaie’s teasing!’ and Urianger be like ‘Imma just waterwalk’

-- I like Dohn Mheg

-- they’re really amping up the horror aspect with these Sin Eaters and Lightwardens, huh

-- so I’m guessing the Nu Mou are brownies or smth

-- brb sobbing over Seto and Ardbert

-- heck yeah, protective dad Thancred for the win. The unusual camera angles (for FFXIV) really sold how furious he was at Ran’jit

-- the fae defeating Ran’jit’s forces is such a mix of eucatastrophic and horrifying that I don’t know how to quantify or qualify it further

-- the fairies are genuinely fae in all of their eldritch rule-bound glory (or horror) and I am enjoying the novelty just as much as I wish to avoid them

-- ah, yes, Miinfillia makes a good addition to my collection of magical blond daughters (Sylphie, Rielle, Gatty, etc.)

-- so is Emet-Selch just throwing a tantrum or is he trying to manipulate us further. I’m assuming the latter. I’m also assuming the ‘Emet’ comes from the Hebrew ‘emeth’ ‘truth’. And I still want to punch him in the face. His rhetoric does not impress me.

-- I keep reading his name as ‘Emet-Selech’ to match the Biblical ‘Ebed-Melech’ but I guess that’s just the Catholic in me

-- Urianger going all-out Yu-Gi-Oh here, throwing cards at people like Seto Kaiba

-- I am greatly enjoying Urianger’s updated hi-poly model, i must say

-- Ardbert is #1 best bro, hands down

-- DON’T EVEN BREATHE IN G’RAHA’S DIRECTION, YOU ASCIAN CRETIN

-- nah, man, I’d greattly prefer to beat up Ascians again. It’s like annihilating worlds wins you few friends and less good will, wow.

-- does Thancred now have, like, Ascian radar? He’s the first to react when E-S pops up in our vicinity. I would not be surprised if Lahabrea’s possession of him had its lingering efffects

-- LAAAAA-HEEEE

-- Emet-Selch talks about conquering nations as his ‘halcyon days’ and then wonders aloud why we don’t want his commentary

-- “Uh... kupo?” Sorry, I had to do it. I don’t actually hate moogles quiiiiite as much as I pretend to, although I do hate them (I’m sorry, Sidurgu; I have failed you *sobs*) and I naively assumed humor would dispel some of the tension. Thancred’s reaction was great, too (hearkens back to his frustrated, “All right, who triggered the obvious trap?” in the Ala Mhigan Saltery.)

-- I will gladly bore you any day, Emet-Selch!

-- I prefer Lahabrea too, Thancred, Never thought I would see the day.

-- the Echo flashback of Ardbert and Lamitt meeting was so beautiful and pure in the most painful way

-- I shouldn’t laugh at Granson. He does have a sad past. But he’s trying to shard to be edgy, it just amuses me. Sid manages to be edgy even when surrounded by moggles and small children - AND there’s so much more to him than that. At least Granson has a nice coat.

-- getting real invested in this father/daughter relationship between Thancred and Mini-fillia here

-- I was genuinely moved by that funeral. I’m gonna have Thoughts when I finish SHB on how we as the Warrior of Darkness are embodying essentially their religion’s (benevolent) Angel of Death to restore order to the world and ensure souls pass peacefully to the afterlife. Because, like, I already got chills.

-- a day in the life of Indiana Jones (again)

-- I just kinda figured that Y’shtola pulled some wacky magic trick out of her pocket as she always does and Flow’d herself to some random place again so this part didn’t even emotionally affect me other than, “Not *again*.”

-- called it

-- since AST has that Gravity spell I’m going to assume that’s how Urianger froze Ran’jit midair and also how Thancred and the WoL got back to the other side of the bottomless pit. Because we learned in Dohn Mheg that Rescue doesn’t work across chasms or on hostiles.

-- Thancred’s utter disdain for Emet-Selch gives me life

-- like why the heck does he want our trust so badly, anyway

-- at least Y’shtola got clothes this time

-- still kinda miffed at her for being reckless, even if my character just smiled and nodded to keep the convo and plot moving along

-- how do I get Urianger and Alphinaud to keep me alive during large pulls??? Maybe I”m just doing DRK wrong, idk man

-- primal!Hydaelyn theory confirmed

-- still emotional over the Night’s Blessed religion because it actually strikes me as, y’know, an actual religion

-- Y’shtola, looking at her massive pile of books: “Oh, no, I’ve become my mother...”

-- I look forward to returning to the Crystarium to speak to my no. 1 best bro, Ardbert (nope, not G’raha)

-- Estinien and Gaius’s wacky wild Garlemald adventures

-- great, Zenos is more yandere than ever towards us

-- no, Mini-fillia! stay with Thancred!

- holy crap

-- noooooo, poor Ardbert trying so hard

-- yes, thank you, sad lonely remix of the expansion theme

-- Lyna’s voice actor out here killing it

--oh, great, a tub of lard on a blimp. How does it take off with him on board? Or is it just a recording of his voice? The latter seems more likely

-- Thancred’s just concerned about Mini-fillia being worried - lol, don’t think I haven’t seen this I’m-totally-being-a-dad-without-realizing-I’m-a-parent behavior before with Sidurgu

-- Emet-Selch just lurking in the background like the terrible skunk man he is, ready to further the drama

- oh NOOOOOOOO NO NO NO

-- this is truly the most delicious and painful of angst

-- I’m just like constantly lowkey screaming over Thancred and Mini-fillia

-- my character yet again having to give parenting advice to a white-haired tank

-- yay, more hours of running around alternate dimension Camp Drybone

-- so like what’s up with Ran’jit’s darkened sclera?

- AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

-- oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh

-- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-- BRB I’M SOBBING

-- IMMEDIATELY followed by watching the Warriors of Darkness sacrifice themselves (again) to help stop the Floor by absorbing enough light to become top-tier Sin Eaters, holy crap

-- Ardbert begging Minfillia to let him sacrifice himself as well, holy crap I’m sobbing

-- THANK THE TWELVE

-- Alisaie dragging Alphainaud for stating the obvious for the benefit of the dullards

-- happy tears now

-- everyone else looks at you when you approach but Thancred and Ryne are still watching each other *clutches heart*

-- wait... Ran’jit didn’t die... is HE the Lightwarden? *dons tinfoil hat*

-- doing trials w/trust system would be wild

-- how appropriate is it that we fight Storge after this development between Thancred and Ryne?

-- Malikah’s Well is easy to tank tbh

-- how exactly is everyone continuing to exist as fragments a greater tragedy than murdering millions, Emet-Selch? Hmm? I don’t care how pretty your borrowed face is or how sad you sound, I’m not impressed.

-- welp, I knew something fishy was up with the meol from the start. How exactly do the Sin Easter produce enough to feed everyone, though?

-- so is Vauthry like a light-elemental primal now? is he tempering people?

-- he’s actually much less violent than I expected, however. He’s not calling for our heads, just that we be kept away from him. Huh.

-- okay, what’s up w/Ran’jit’s final words? is he talking to past Minfillias?

-- where are Vauthry’s Sin Eaters?? Let’s not make the same mistake we made outside the Vault and attack w/o checking where all of the big bad’s minions are

-- oh, look, he has a boob face like Edo Tensei Madara. How nice. Except this one has glowing eyes.

-- wouldn’t the manacutters work in this environment? Or does ‘abundance of light’ not equal ‘abundance of aether’? Oh, it’s for safety reasons. Seems fair.

-- Alphinaud has to give at least one (1) dramatic speech per expansion, doesn’t he? Or even per patch, maybe

-- Chai-Nuzz be like, “Did my wife just sign me up for this?”

-- hello, yes, I love the Chai’s

-- LALI-HO!

-- the dwarves kinda remind me of the Jawas from Star Wars, except with helmets and visible beards

-- if Norvrandt had trains, Jeryk would totally be a train fanatic

-- are we turning this giant Talos into a primal? That’d be the sort of thing we would totally do by accident *cough Susano cough*

-- I can’t help it, I crack up every time the shoebill running gag appears

-- G’raha, I remember what happened the last time an Important NPC had a crush on me. Don’t die on me now. You’ve let slip some alarming hints, and no matter how irked I am by your secrecy I don’t want someone else dying in my arms.

-- what am I gonna do after all this is over? Go home to Ishgard and see my husband and kids

-- SORRY G’RAHA I’M MARRIED

-- Mt. Gulg actually has a rather tasteful palace

-- DRK is great. Don’t know what that boss move does? TBN. Don’t feel like moving out of an AOE? TBN. Party member gets hit w/stack marker and you don’t wanna move? TBN.

-- Innocence gets me in the Catholic by giving me St.-Michael-depicted-in-art vibes and that kinda makes me uncomfortable in a ‘this is something holy that has been perverted’ sort of way

-- yes, mayor dude, trust the creepy dude in black robes who teleported into your chambers w/o warning and proposed drastic magical experimentation on your unborn child for political gain

-- but Urianger, you have no sleeves

-- G’raha, you’re trying too hard to lie, and Urianger’s emotion gives you away anyway

-- THE MUSIC AAAAUUUUGHHHHH

-- Emet-Selch w/a gun is just the most random thing

-- can we just harness our light, leap on him, and eat his soul like in Skyrim? Maybe his darkness would balance things out?

-- why does anyone like this skunk man anyway

-- he didn’t invest all that much time or energy in us. It’s not as if he joined us in fetch quests or dungeons or anything. (Editor’s Note: EW says hello.)

-- wait... how is Elidibus keeping Zenos’s corpse from rotting? Or is it ‘alive’ now that it has a soul to occupy it?

-- doing that Crystarium/Lakeland sidequest chain with the elf soldier who has PTSD right after waking up from the Innocence fight was an inspired, if accidental, decision

-- ngl, the healer role quests are actually kinda sad. Also, Giott is best girl

-- I love Feo Ul. The music when we finally remember to call their name made me smile, it’s so triumphant and joyful right after some sad and heavy story developments.

-- haha those two dudes watching Bismarck’s dive

-- lol Grenoldt is Gerolt with hair

-- Granson is TOO edgy

-- I love how they demonstrated that Tadric is evil with a think black scale moustache.He’s also an inferior black mage because his hat isn’t pointy enough.

-- who else finds it interesting that Voeburtite’s royalty are white-haired, white-skinned Xaela when the only one who fits that description in Ishgard is Sidurgu? Am I thinking too deeply into this?

-- Auri princess turns into quasi-Elezen Sin Eater. Yup. Makes perfect sense.

-- okay, Granson, you’ve finally grown on me. Brandon’s character arc had an effect on him. And Sul Oul was wonderfully patient with him. And we can turn Granson’s favored form of address right back on him, haha.

-- I hit 80 DRK in the middle of a FATE in the Tempest and first summoned Fray to fight some jellyfish. I’m 100% certain he was cussing me out for that.

-- so Ascians/Amaurotines speak the Alltongue, okay

-- the helpful robed giant is at once creepy and soothing, idk. I’m calling ghost shenanigans

-- yup

-- sad piano music like smth outta KH

-- soooo the Final Days phenomenon emerged from deep within the earth and hijacked the Amaurotines’ creation powers to give life to their worst nightmares? And their plan was to give *will* to the very earth itself? Hmmmm.

-- I wonder how efficient and/or beneficent the Amaurotine bureaucracy really was. The very title ‘Concept Clerk’ unnerved me. And this disdain for ‘cultivated individuality’ when all Amaurotines wear the same hooded robes and masks unless they’re official figures... Emet-Selch *does* know St. Thomas More wrote Utopia as a parody, right? These places that purport to be utopias seem to inherently devolve into dystopias of various sorts.

-- “To delight in disparity is a mark of the morally deficient.” *shudders*

-- “The eyes of the collective are ever watching and weighing your worth.” *shudders harder*

-- okay, creepy communist ghost Amaurotines, hiding their distorted worldviews behind civility and smug notions of equality

-- The problem with dialog choices is that sometimes you want to pick both. Yes, but also no. No, but also yes. Go not to the Elves for counsel.

-- Amaurot has a vaguely Art Deco, turn-of-the-century big city feel to it IMHO

-- I’m a max-height Roegadame at 7′3″ and I’m not quite half the height of these Amaurotines. I can only imagine what Lalafells look like next to the them. They must be the size of newborns, maybe toddlers.

-- ...*did* the Amaurotines even procreate normally? Did they design their own children? Have to apply for a concept permission slip to have children? I mean, children at least seem to have existed in their society, based on reactions the WoL garners, but my mind is swamped with other horrible potential implications

- so you can check out concepts like aetheric instructions and then make stuff. Is it just like a patent office, or do you usually need permission to make things?

-- who gets to pick which ideas further the greater good? That’s always a scary thought

-- as much as Amaurot instills a deep sense of dread in me, I’m actually rather enjoying it

-- the Addled Amaurotine’s design is going to try to kill me, isn’t it

-- oh, look, talking flans that poison me. yaaaaaaaaay

-- okay, which Amaurotine was responsible for these cubuses (cubi?), what exactly are they/what were they intended to be, and why are they infesting a public plaza? Do they just use them as free living aether sources? Do they have no ethical qualms with that?

-- were there no other sentient peoples during the time of the Amaurotines? And why can’t I stop mentally turning that name into ‘Ammonites’ or ‘Ammorites’?

-- gotta say, those glass-breaking and cocoon-crackling noises when we have an episode are pretty worrisome

-- Thancred’s not usually this openly sentimental, so his words in front of the Capitol hit the hardest. Plus, he’s the Scion I’ve trusted the most this expansion to be the sensible one, my fellow tank whom I trust as the Responsible Other Person in the party and whose judgment of the situation I rely on the most.

-- Emet-Selch’s amity is entirely dependent on us being exactly what he wants us to be, and players still love him?

-- whoo, Y’shtola being savage as usual

-- still don’t know exactly why Zodiark would offer the Amaurotines a refund of the souls he initially consumed, especially when all the supposedly lesser mortals would be a poor compensation. Appeasing a dictator leads to a black hole. What would Zodiark demand next? What then?

-- y’know, Emet, possibly people want to stop you for a reason. People don’t exactly WANT to be sacrificed to an evil god. He claims to be so superior but he fails to understand humanity. I don’t care how emotional he gets. I’d actually claim the Amaurotines were spiritually and mentally *lesser* for not having to deal with mortality the same as the rest of us.

-- we don’t have to be entrusted with the Amaurotine legacy. We just want to live.

-- let me punch him in the face

-- somewhere in the Sil or HoME the Ainur/Valar are described as “greater in majesty but equal in dignity” to other sentient souls and honestly that’s why I trust only good Catholics to write this sort of existential philosophy

-- yes, because magical power determines the worth of a soul. Emet-Selch is an ableist, plain and simple. Why can no one see this

-- move along, just an eternal child throwing a hissy fit, nothing to see here

-- the guy unable to manipulate aether actually got physically the closest to landing a hit on Emet-Selch; if that isn’t irony at its most beautiful, I don’t know what is

-- so I started crying when Ardbert offered me his axe and the main theme kicked in

-- Hades was fun, in the sense that we wiped several times but demonstrably learned. And I loved the chance to throw around my high-level spells and not cast a single Cure II

-- heck yeah Thancred

-- gonna assume he was chosen (in a Doylist sense) for that role with the white auracite for his inability to manipulate aether, ability to pull off crazy sword parkour, and his white coat literally being a beacon in Hades’s darkness

-- couldn’t help but hear Emet-Selch’s plea to be remembered in Mufasa’s voice

-- okay, this music with the admonition to “stand tall” is making me cry

-- I don’t condone your actions and behavior, G’raha, but I forgive you

--I’m liking the WHM AF4 gear, might not glamour over it for a while. No ridiculous stiff lace collar, no random uncovered shoulder, yes a floor-length skirt, no healer panties/bootyshorts/visible thigh. It’s great. I love the traditional AF1 gear, but this silhouette is very nice as well. It gives my character more of the motherly feel she’s earned.

-- hello, yes, I still love the CHai’s

-- we get washed out on the shore like Jonah spat out of the whale’s belly

-- the running saga of Alphinaud’s (and Urianger’s) inability to swim, haha

-- so, wait, Mt. Gulg is gonna fall one day and we’re just gonna leave it in the sky? If I learned anything from Lie Rock in Morrowind, it’s that mini floating moons are a BAD idea.

-- AAAAAAUUUUUUGGHHHHHH, Ardbert reuniting with his old comrades

-- yep, let’s quote “Answers”, not like it will make me cry or anything

-- aaaaand here comes the expansion theme to finish the job on my emotions

-- lol, Urianger refuses to learn how to swim, instead decides to learn magical waterwalking or how to part the sea like Moses

-- HAHAHAHAHA Thancred was going to have a drink but Urianger dragged him by naming all his drunken conquests so he just had water instead. Water. Pffffft.

-- Y’shtola has one move and that is: SAVAGE

-- despite his kidnapping of our friends and spying on us unseen without our consent, G’raha is GENERALLY an exception to that ‘Red Eyes, Take Warning’ rule

-- oh, yeah, what nonsense are Estinien and Gaius engaged in?

-- lol, Estinien is not the Leeroy Jenkins for once

-- so Imma assume Zenos got his body back and killed his dad? Ah, yep. Yay, we’ll get to deal with our yandere ‘friend’ again

-- dang, Gaius’s gunblade is as long as a DRK greatsword; I assume it has rifling for bullets? Is it feasible as a long-range weapon?

-- pls don’t let Zenos mantle Zodiark and the WoL mantle Hydaelyn

-- nice cliffhanger, Squeenix

-- Estinien watching this alll like ‘dude wtf’

-- I’m not the only one to theorize that Estinien still carries Nidhogg’s soul in some fashion and that he thereby can’t be tempered; pls let us have him in the trust system 2021, idec if he steals LB and yeets into AOE’s like ALisaie, I want the man who embodied the rancor of freaking Bahamut’s brother and survived on my side

-- gotta buy this soundtrack asap

-- had to troll G’raha by immediately popping back to the First. Had to.

-- y’know, I wouldn’t be mad if in a future expansion they gave fewer new lands and instead expanded the old ARR maps and unlocked flying for them

-- lol I REALLY need to hear the story of how Tataru and Krile strong-armed Estinien into working for them

-- Elidibus now on the moon like, “All my friends are dead.” I still wanna know why he wears white (and if it’s because he’s ‘Emissary’, what’s the importance of that title?)

-- how is the body Elidibus stole breathing on the moon??!! Or does he always just grab corpses and reanimate them? But if he revived Zenos’s corpse and revived this one, still how is it breathing? Does Zodiark’s moon have a thin atmosphere? or is it just another ‘aether’ handwave?

-- just discovered this galaxy-brain theory: the Amdapor gremlins are actually sin eaters, confused as voidsent by the Souce

DRK 80 -- *checks in on the husband* Hoo boy, looks like our daughter is definitely entering her teenage years -- Fray, I swear if you make me pay all these teleport fees for no reason... -- DUDE, IT’S *THAT* GUY -- redemption for the arrogant merchant guy who so spectacularly angered Fray? And in this wholesome way? Dark knight is best knight, confirmed once again

WHM 80 -- it’s Alaqa! I’ve missed her! (Yes, I actually cared about WHM 50 - 60, shut up.) It’s great to see she’s getting along with my other two magical blond daughters. -- ‘mister smashy branches’ is the best name ever; I will now call all treants that. Thank you, my magical blond daughter #1. -- secret wish: A-Towa Cant to reappear, just to complete things -- but I get girls’ day out w/smashing tree monsters and appeasing bloodthirsty forest spirits instead, so that’s just as good.

MELEE/PHYS RANGED ROLE QUESTS -- *starting the questline * Tbh, I like Lue-Reeq even less than Granson. *finishing questlie* He’s still a little idiot, but he’s trying now.l He gets headpats. Reeq >>> Kai-Shirr. -- ngl, seeing Ardbert charge out of the forest to Renda-Rae’s rescue during that roleplaying sequence just about brought a tear to my eye. I love him so much. He is #1 best bro.

CRYSTALLINE MEAN -- ALC/CUL deifnitely has the best story. Eismon and Thiuna are also faves, but Bethric was amazing. -- The MIN/BTN questline was also good. I felt like a paleontologist or zoologist for the day. -- clearly, the Loch NEss monster also employs glamours to hide itself -- FSH: The Importance of Nutrition (starring simultaneous Shakespeare and Star Trek references; Koji, you sly Fox) -- ALCH/CUL: Don’t Mess With The Alchemist -- LTW/CRP/WVR: Man Does Not Live On Bread Alone -- MIN/BTN: Life, Uh, Finds A Way -- The Mean capstone quest made me tear up, I admit.

BOZJA -- Bajsaljen has manificent whiskers. At least, I assume they’re whiskers. I’m also interested by an authority figure who’s a medic rather than a warrior... not that I expect anything to come of it, story-wise. -- The Gangos BGM is so good. -- Cid has such a good heart. He’s been one of our staunchest and most longterm allies, and imho he’s a little underappreciated because he is in fact so reliable. -- He’s also tiny compared to other Garleans. I suspect 1.0 limitations.

#FFXIV #Spinner plays games #Spinner plays FFXIV #Spinner reacts #blah blah blah

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writing-royza · 7 years ago

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Two Hundred and Fifty-five - Infectious Crying, 3.0

A/N: Happy Sunday, everyone! It’s been lovely weather this weekend; I enjoyed a beautiful walk through the autumn scenery this morning, just me and my music. It was awesome.

So for this week’s chapter, I know it’s a shortened version of what a military trial should be. Hence why it’s just a hearing, with the two of them having been put in custody to prevent them going on the run. But without writing a full-on novel about it, this is about the closest I can get. At least for now. :P

I do not own FMA.

Two Hundred and Fifty-five - Infectious Crying, 3.0

It was by sheer dumb luck, he knew, that he hadn’t been with her when they came for him. For two weeks following their release from the hospital after the Promised Day, they had each slept alone, knowing that eyes were on them. But for two days, the feeling of those eyes had begun to fade, and Roy had just begun to hope that they could go back to their comfortable, cozy relationship.

The men who arrived at his door after ten o’clock at night, two weeks and three days after his release, had put that hope on hold.

Sitting here in this cell, his hands locked into the wooden stocks commonplace in incarcerating alchemists, it gave him far too much time to think. There were far too many people who could be implicated in this, and he had dragged all of them into what should, by rights, be his mess alone. Breda, Fuery, Catalina, Havoc, Ross, the entirety of his old squad from Ishval, and last, but nowhere near the least… Riza.

Pushing to his feet, he paced agitatedly, teeth gritted and stomach turning backflips out of worry. The squad were probably fine; they had gone to ground the second the dust had settled. With relative anonymity on their side, they would only be found if someone else named names. Havoc was so far removed from the situation when it happened — literally, far — that there was no concrete evidence linking him or his family. Roy took a second to thank the other man for his foresight to use in alias in moving the arms shipments.

Catalina’s records had been fixed to say she was in East City at the time; her face wasn’t known in Central at all, either, so she would be fine. Ross could always flee back to Xing, or hide behind Armstrong’s massive figure, along with her Sergeant. Breda and Fuery were in a little more danger — they were deserters in addition to coup conspirators and combatants. But Riza….

He had heard the military police radios during the scuffle. Both he and Riza — The Flame Alchemist, and the Hawk’s Eye — had been specifically named. And knowing that, he was going to have to spin a very carefully-worded web if he wanted at least her to make it out of this.

---------------

The second he saw her outside the courthouse, his heart soared… but only for an instant. Her hair was loose, the fall of it hiding the back of her neck and the edge of the tattoo that would be visible from the loose prison-issue shirt. And those clothes sent his moment of elation plummeting down into the dust at his feet.

...Not her, too….

Riza had time for only a brief second of meeting his gaze – her brown eyes wide with surprise and instantly worried – before the guard at either of her elbows turned her toward the door and ushered her through.

The instant they were close enough to speak without too many people overhearing, Roy wasted no time. “Trying out a Spirits’ Night costume already, Lieutenant?”

“Only on the suggestion of the military police, sir.” Her tone was cool and unperturbed, though her eyes moved watchfully from place to place. “Though for this party, your outfit and mine match. We’ll both have to change.”

The casually concealed optimism nearly made him smile; she believed they would both come out of this. Hopefully she was right.

The courtroom they were shown to was not overly full, but very few of the faces were unfamiliar. Armstrong sat near the front, uniformed and paying close attention, with his sister in the row behind him. Behind her were the four men of Roy’s staff, all either staring in shock at their leaders in prison uniforms and shackles, or blank-faced as they kept their emotions under rigid control.

They did not have to wait long before the bailiff called for the entrance of the judge.

“Be seated,” the lean, beak-nosed man said, settling behind the bench. “Let’s not waste time here. The purpose of this hearing is to determine whether Colonel Roy Mustang and First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye should stand trial for the actions they took during the Battle of Central City two weeks ago.” He looked up over his spectacles at the pair standing in the defendant’s box. “Have you been told what the charges against you are?”

“No, sir,” Roy answered. In his peripheral, he saw Riza shake her head.

“As it stands, the charges being brought toward you today are as follows.” He consulted a short list. “Assault, assault with a deadly weapon, resisting arrest, destruction of government property, kidnapping, conspiracy to commit treason, and treason.” He looked up. “How do you plead?”

This time, Riza was the first to speak. “Not guilty, by reason of preserving national security.”

Muttering broke out in the gallery, but not enough for the judge to use his gavel. Eyebrows lowered over the spectacles as he stared hard at her for a moment. “Your plea is an unfamiliar one, Lieutenant. I’ll have to ask you to clarify.”

“Of course, sir. What I mean to say is that, depending on the charge, we may or may not have committed the alleged action in defense of national security, against a threat posed by a malevolent force.”

Roy had to consciously clamp down on a smile. Trust Riza to explain herself without truly explaining herself. It was a piece of double-talk worthy of the Madame herself; and of course, she had been the one to instruct Riza in just such an art.

With a sigh, the judge removed his glasses and sat back in his chair. “I can see we’re going to need to go through this very carefully. Let’s start with the assault charges: where do you stand in those?”

“At the time we we attacked,” Roy explained, “we had received intelligence that the Central City forces were under the command of a corrupt High Council, as you will recall, was testified by Major-General Armstrong at her hearing last week. Any attack made on them by myself, the Lieutenant, or our team was either in defense or pacification.” He made sure to meet the judge’s gaze. “No man attacked by team was killed, even if he was declared an enemy.”

After a moment of jotting down a brief note, the judge nodded. “Very well. And the charge of resisting arrest?”

Riza frowned. “Pardon my ignorance, Your Honour, but this is for defying the men who attempted to assassinate our group along with First Lady Bradley?”

The judge’s mouth twitched in the tiniest hint of a smile. “I will count that as your explanation, Lieutenant. While you’re on the topic, would you care to address the charge of kidnapping in relation to First Lady Bradley?”

“The alleged kidnapping was protective custody,” Riza stated clearly, standing just a little straighter. “We didn’t know how close the security detail was to the conspirators against the Presidency, and so we incapacitated them and took over her protective detail ourselves. Unfortunately, for her own safety, we had to keep her in the dark on the situation a good amount of the time.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, continuing to take notes, the judge didn’t look up. “To the charge of destruction of government property?”

“Collateral damage in the battle that followed.” Roy hesitated only briefly before adding “And if I may be so bold, Your Honour, considering the vast amount of damage caused by the entity known as ‘Father,’ who can tell what we destroyed among everything else?

Again, there was just a hint of a smile. “A fair point, I’ll grant you, Colonel.” Any trace of humour. “Last, but certainly not least, is the Court to assume, on the treason-related charges, that you were working to expose and bring down the alleged corruption in the military High Command?”

The answer of “Yes, Your Honour” from both soldiers echoed in the sudden silence of the courtroom.

Reviewing his notes for a moment, the judge removed his glasses, setting the on the bench. “Ordinarily, on such serious charges as this, I would have no recourse to but to give you both the most severe sentence possible. But I think we can all agree that the circumstances surrounding this hearing are by no means ordinary.”

Looking up, he folded his hands on the bench, looking from Colonel to Lieutenant and back again. “In light of the recent acquittal of Major-General Olivier Armstrong, who, I might add, faced a few more serious charges than the two of you, I feel I must take your explanations of your actions to heart and factor them into my judgement.

“Colonel Roy Mustang; First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye: on all charges being brought against you at this time, the National Court of Amestris finds you both not guilty, by reason of the preservation of national security.”

The bang of a gavel made it so.

---------------

They were placed in a courthouse holding cell, awaiting transfer back to jail for processing out and collecting their effects. Leaning back against the wall, Riza sank down to a seat on the floor, breathing a literal sigh of relief. “Never in a million years,” she murmured, eyes closing, “did I think I’d be going home today.”

Roy smiled. “Really? You seemed pretty confident just before the hearing started.”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

He opened his mouth to make a smart remark… and closed it again as he saw the pair of tears seep from under her closed eyelids to fall down her cheeks. “...Hey….” He moved to crouch in front of her, unable to give her a comforting hug because his bindings. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s all right; we’re cleared.”

“I know.” Her eyes opened, and she smiled despite the moisture still brimming at the edges. “I just…. I kept thinking what I would do if we weren’t exonerated…. If I was….” Her lips silently mouthed the words ‘without you.’

Roy grinned, the smile he knew could out her most at ease. ‘Not a chance,’ he mouthed back.

At last, Riza’s smile was genuine. She leaned forward, her own shackles preventing her from hugging him, but content just to lean her forehead against his shoulder. “Time to get back to normal, I guess,” she said quietly.

“Yeah. About time, too.”

He didn’t let her see the single tear of relief that rolled down the side of his face. Relief that, for the first time in far too long, they were both as free as they were ever likely to be again.

#fma #fmab #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #royza #royai #fma fanfiction #royai fanfiction #snap shots

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