automailed: (...meeeeeh. still not impressed.)
['Sup, Luceti, guess who's back? So missions totally suck, but at least he wasn't on the ocean this time. It was still snowy and wet and miserable in general, but hey, he can't complain too much. It beats being experimented on.

Still, it's not like it was a particularly troublesome or dangerous mission, so he'll be tromping and looking rather cranky to House 23.

And it only gets worse from there! Because Winry is still sick (of course), and someone will surely be kind enough to tell him that Al's been kidnapped. Again. And there's going to be a draft now, and he's not on it, even though the enemies are being captured instead of killed, and goddammit this week sucks.

In other words, it's not long before he's out and about again, slightly more aggressive in his stance and occasionally punching trees, because there's very little else he can do right now. He will pop by to visit the friends or acquaintances of his that are drafted, though (or at least get close enough to where they live to look like he's thinking about checking on them).

...Well, there's at least one thing he can do to distract himself, so he'll try the journal later that night.]



[Voice]

...Hey, got a question. What kind of a gift can you get a girl without giving them the wrong idea or something?
automailed: ([manga] it's not that I didn't have to..)
[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.

cut for tl;dr dreaming business )

[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.

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Edward Elric

September 2022

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