Edward Elric (
automailed) wrote2011-07-11 01:44 am
[Action /Voice]
[The week had passed with a certain degree of... something surreal, fake, imaginary. Edward can remember the white room, the gate, but most of all, the emptiness of it all. No Truth, no second gate, no Al. He'd been completely alone. And even his own body had felt as fake as the seemingly endless room; it was detached, uncomfortable. As if- as if it wasn't real-
...But that's impossible, isn't it?
He had plenty of time to debate the theory in his mind, at least. Whatever his body was in that place, it didn't need sleep. And as the hours passed into dull, empty silence, as his shouts and rants echoed back to his own ears, pointlessly, his only gain was a newfound clarity of what Al's nights must be like. If nothing else, this experience has given him an even greater incentive for getting Al's body back.
Nothing lasts forever, though, and eventually - he's not sure when or how long it's been - the simulated Gate of Truth collapses and dissolves around him, leaving only darkness.
And then come the dreams.
They're always different, always so vivid. An unfortunate consequence of an overly imaginative alchemist with ambition. This time it's Al - real Al, Al's body, frail and pitiful and starving, yet smiling at him-
"You'll come back, won't you? You won't leave me here again? It's been so long."
His soulless eyes are empty, yet somehow filled with an unbearable suffering at the same time. It's only been a few days for Ed, at most. How could Al endure years of that place, with only Truth and this same sense of loss to keep him company?
"Brother- why did you do this to me?"
Al, Al, Al, I didn't want-
"I can't go with you."
And Al's gone before Edward's hand can reach him, dissolving from view. Just like all the others.
"You're just running away."
He turns, expecting Hohenheim, but finds only the misshapen, slack-jawed remains of his human transmutation. Not his mother. It was never his mother.
"Why did you create me?"
There's a wrench in his chest as slimy, mangled fingers slide down his cheek.
"Why did you just watch me die?"
Gone, again. In the quiet, in the darkness, he can hear Truth laughing.
And soon after he wakes up, gasping, on the bed of an empty hospital room.]
...Didn't work...
[Once settled and no longer so disoriented (or so alone, for that matter) Edward manages to wriggle over to the bedside table and get his journal open and running. This would be so much easier if his automail was working...
But his automail had been destroyed. He knows that, he'd felt it happen. So Winry must be okay, if she was able to make him replacements. That also means that it's been at least - no, more than - three days since the failed transmutation. One thing at a time, though...]
I'm back. ...Is everyone okay? The transmutation, it didn't-
[....]
Winry? I can't move my automail.
...But that's impossible, isn't it?
He had plenty of time to debate the theory in his mind, at least. Whatever his body was in that place, it didn't need sleep. And as the hours passed into dull, empty silence, as his shouts and rants echoed back to his own ears, pointlessly, his only gain was a newfound clarity of what Al's nights must be like. If nothing else, this experience has given him an even greater incentive for getting Al's body back.
Nothing lasts forever, though, and eventually - he's not sure when or how long it's been - the simulated Gate of Truth collapses and dissolves around him, leaving only darkness.
And then come the dreams.
They're always different, always so vivid. An unfortunate consequence of an overly imaginative alchemist with ambition. This time it's Al - real Al, Al's body, frail and pitiful and starving, yet smiling at him-
"You'll come back, won't you? You won't leave me here again? It's been so long."
His soulless eyes are empty, yet somehow filled with an unbearable suffering at the same time. It's only been a few days for Ed, at most. How could Al endure years of that place, with only Truth and this same sense of loss to keep him company?
"Brother- why did you do this to me?"
Al, Al, Al, I didn't want-
"I can't go with you."
And Al's gone before Edward's hand can reach him, dissolving from view. Just like all the others.
"You're just running away."
He turns, expecting Hohenheim, but finds only the misshapen, slack-jawed remains of his human transmutation. Not his mother. It was never his mother.
"Why did you create me?"
There's a wrench in his chest as slimy, mangled fingers slide down his cheek.
"Why did you just watch me die?"
Gone, again. In the quiet, in the darkness, he can hear Truth laughing.
And soon after he wakes up, gasping, on the bed of an empty hospital room.]
...Didn't work...
[Once settled and no longer so disoriented (or so alone, for that matter) Edward manages to wriggle over to the bedside table and get his journal open and running. This would be so much easier if his automail was working...
But his automail had been destroyed. He knows that, he'd felt it happen. So Winry must be okay, if she was able to make him replacements. That also means that it's been at least - no, more than - three days since the failed transmutation. One thing at a time, though...]
I'm back. ...Is everyone okay? The transmutation, it didn't-
[....]
Winry? I can't move my automail.

voice; oh grammar.
[In other words, he just missed her.
Ooooh boy, he loves being the bearer of bad news.]
voice; grammar, what are grammar!
Do you know if someone named Greed, or Ling, is still in the village? And what about the Hughes family, are they okay?
voice; something fancy people use.
Sorry, Ed. I don't know any of them.
voice; we don't need none of that fancypants business here
Forget it, I'll check on them later. [Honestly he's not too worried; as long as they didn't enter the circle, they should've been fine. The only one to worry about was Greed; it was his stone that was used, after all.] ...Did something else happen?
voice; absolutely not!
voice;
Anything I should know about?
voice;
[Or an enemy.]
voice;
And he's no closer to finding a way out, like he promised. That's just depressing.]
I'll keep an eye out, then.
voice;
[A pause. He wants to ask what happened with the trasmutation, but he can't. Way too personal. Plus, he knows Ed well enough to know that failing at it is probably taking it's toll.]
So...are you sure there isn't anything I can do?
voice;
If you feel like bringing some clean clothes and food to the clinic, that would help.
[Hospital clothes and hospital food are two of the world's worst creations.]
voice;
Right. Okay. I can do that.
voice;
I think this is the dome clinic, not the one in the main plaza. Can't tell which room it is, though.
voice;
[He's about to shut the journal when one more question strikes him.]
Any preferences as far as food and clothes go?
voice;
[.....Actually-]
Don't bring any milk.
voice;
[In fact, he'll just scratch dairy off the list altogether just in case.]
Right. See you in a minute, then.
voice;
action;
Oh, good memories. Yeah, he could have gone a little while longer without returning to the battle dome. He'd have been okay with that.
As it is, he'll start wandering down the medical wing's hallway, looking around as he goes.]
Uhhh....Ed?
action;
Hey, I'm over here!
action;
...Yeah, you've had better days, bro.]
Uh...hey.
action;
Hey. You didn't mention that. [Why are you running errands for people when you're hurt? Idiot.]
action;
[He steps awkwardly over to a side table and starts pulling things out of the bag. A green shirt and blue jeans come out, as well as a box of food.
Hiccup doesn't exactly know what a hamburger was, but it smelled good. And it wasn't milk. Instead, he's brought a simple bottle of water. As he unpacks, he goes on.]
I...kind of got attacked by a New Feather.
action;
What happened? Are you okay?
[Besides the arm, he looks okay, but he knows better than anyone the urge to hide injuries.]
action;
...I'm fine, though. Totally fine.
action;
And so he knows to offer the right hand]action;
...She also seemed scared. Really scared.
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