(no subject)
Jun. 11th, 2005 04:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mikkenekoDrat it all, I think this fic suddenly wants to be in FIRST person. >_< First-person Scar? Someone tell me if that would be too ridiculous. But otherwise the pronouns are going to be hell.
It was light when he came to, the dazzling white light of the desert sun. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, by this time most of his memories had come back into working order.
This place, whatever it was, was still in the desert; probably not too far from Lior had been. They certainly didn't get sun like this in the Western cities. And if he was still in the East, after what had happened in Lior, then it was a pretty sure bet he was not under the care of the military. He only had the vaguest notion of what they would do with him if they found him; he'd never intended to let himself fall into their hands.
He'd never intended to survive to this point, anyway.
But if not any of the Western survivors, then who was the shadow from last night? The person had helped him, which didn't seem to speak of an enemy; but he also remembered the Western tongue, which let out any of his countrymen or the Liorans. He didn't have very many friends among the Westerners.
Alphonse? he wondered, venturing the thought with some wariness. His last thoughts before the world broke down was that if he could save Alphonse, from what Kimbley had done to him, then some tiny part of this had been worth it. And he got the distinct if uneasy impression that it had been Alphonse who had intervened when he was on the point of death, and just how the boy had saved him was something he would prefer not to think about too closely.
Not Alphonse.
It wasn't much of a mystery; he hadn't been awake all that long, staring at the sun-spattered wall for lack of the energy to move, when there were footsteps and thumpings at the cave mouth. With some effort, he shifted around until he could see better. It was no surprise at all when Edward ducked in through the door -- a motion more involuntary than necessary, considering his height. He was carrying a netted bundle of... something, his shirt was missing, and he was sunburned. The white light dazzled off his skin, giving the boy a red glow that made his eyes hurt.
Edward stomped inside, raising the dust in the small cave, and dumped his bundle on the cave floor. He then sat down, cross-legged like a tailor, and began to unroll it. It looked like a bundle of foliage to his eyes; dry grasses and scrubby brushes that grew in the waterless region.
Ed shuffled through them until he had them all rearranged into some satisfactory order. Leaning over, Ed clapped his hands, then put them to the side of the... bowl... which they were contained in. The light of the reaction, alien and unwanted, was too much for his eyes; he had to close them against the pain.
When he opened them, Ed was bending over a bowl of food. He was poking at them, apparently checking his work.
Only when all the contents met to his satisfaction did Ed look up. Those fierce yellow eyes gave him the same jolt that had struck him the first time he'd seen them up close. The color was foreign, unnatural, but the shape and intensity were painfully close to home.
"So," Edward said without preamble, "you're awake, you bastard."
Every statement directed at him now seemed to be prefaced with "you bastard." He didn't much mind; it was as good a name as any other. He gave a noncommittal noise in response.
Ed was still staring, and he didn't have the will to muster for a contest of willpower right now; he knew how badly he'd lose. Instead, he let his eyes slip back to the stone roof. "What is this place?"
"Hell if I know. This is your country, not mine," Ed said, an angry grumble behind each word. "Some hole in a ground somewhere to the north of a nice shiny new hole in the ground that used to be Lior. The military's crawling over the area. Looking for you."
Which left the rather obvious question as to why Edward was hiding from his own people, but that led into the one that had been plaguing him ever since he'd woken up out of what was supposed to be the longest sleep. "Why did you save me?"
Edward seemed to have been waiting for this question; those words made him quiver like a bowstring. In a fast motion, he was on his feet again, glaring down from his -- momentary -- advantage in height. "Well I can tell you, it wasn't because I've got any fondness for you!" Ed snapped out, and it was clear from his tone how much he'd been itching to say this. "You're a filthy killer, you always were. Bad enough when you were doing little girls in alleys and anyone with a watch, but now you've taken out an entire fucking city, and I don't know that there's even a level in Hell for you for that --"
There was. He could have told him that. Instead, he interrupted -- "Those people were not innocents." It would seem cowardly to say that while not meeting the boy's eyes, so he made the effort. "Invading Lior was an act of war. They came to torment and kill innocent civilians. If they had not made that move, they would not have walked into that trap?"
He saw metal fingers clench; Ed was trembling. "Is that supposed to make it all right somehow?" he raged. "Soldiers or civilians, they were still my countrymen! And most of them had no control over where they were going or what they were doing, they were innocent pawns!"
"They ceased to be innocent when they wore the blue uniform." He closed his eyes; the light coming off of Edward was unbearable. "As you ceased to be innocent when you took that watch and became an attack dog for your military."
There was a long silence, and then footsteps as Ed approached. He opened his eyes to see Edward just a few feet away, burning him with his gaze. "I stopped being innocent long before that," he said quietly. "But I would never have done what you did, not in a thousand years."
"So." So the boy hated him. Well, he had justification for that, but that didn't explain anything; it only made things more clear. "Why?"
"Why'd I save you? Two reasons." The boy was clearly making an effort to push back some strong emotion; how uncharacteristic of him. "One, because it's what Al would have wanted. I don't know what the fuck he saw in you, you bastard, but he wouldn't have wanted to let you die there in the sand, and he wouldn't have turned you over to the soldiers, either. He's just that kind of an idiot."
Oh yes. He had a good idea of just how much of an idiot kind, soft-hearted Alphonse Elric was. He couldn't forget the way Al had pushed himself into the fight between himself and Kimbley, trying his best to get them to stop, to end the violence; his interference had only made things worse, but the important thing was that he tried. "And?"
"And the second reason is that I want some goddamned answers!" Ed hissed, and leaned over him; teeth bared and eyes flashing. "All I saw was that burst of light. Al was in that city, you bastard, and now he's gone, I can't find him anywhere, all I found was your worthless hide --"
Ed continued ranting for a bit, but he was more worried about the implications of this. All the memories from that point on were too fuzzy. Too patchy. But he thought he remembered --
" -- And also," Ed said, snapping his attention back as he moved his hand to his thigh, pulling something out from where it had been lying against his skin. Ed shoved it in his face, and it made him almost ill to have it so near -- red and terrible, terrible -- " --I want to know what in the seven hells is this!"
I'm depressed. This is hard. 1st vs. 3rd is the least of my worries -- I can't do this voice. The character won't speak to me. I think he's sulking. ._. Please let me know what you think, particularly about the dialogue and characterization.
Yes, this is TBC.
It was light when he came to, the dazzling white light of the desert sun. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, by this time most of his memories had come back into working order.
This place, whatever it was, was still in the desert; probably not too far from Lior had been. They certainly didn't get sun like this in the Western cities. And if he was still in the East, after what had happened in Lior, then it was a pretty sure bet he was not under the care of the military. He only had the vaguest notion of what they would do with him if they found him; he'd never intended to let himself fall into their hands.
He'd never intended to survive to this point, anyway.
But if not any of the Western survivors, then who was the shadow from last night? The person had helped him, which didn't seem to speak of an enemy; but he also remembered the Western tongue, which let out any of his countrymen or the Liorans. He didn't have very many friends among the Westerners.
Alphonse? he wondered, venturing the thought with some wariness. His last thoughts before the world broke down was that if he could save Alphonse, from what Kimbley had done to him, then some tiny part of this had been worth it. And he got the distinct if uneasy impression that it had been Alphonse who had intervened when he was on the point of death, and just how the boy had saved him was something he would prefer not to think about too closely.
Not Alphonse.
It wasn't much of a mystery; he hadn't been awake all that long, staring at the sun-spattered wall for lack of the energy to move, when there were footsteps and thumpings at the cave mouth. With some effort, he shifted around until he could see better. It was no surprise at all when Edward ducked in through the door -- a motion more involuntary than necessary, considering his height. He was carrying a netted bundle of... something, his shirt was missing, and he was sunburned. The white light dazzled off his skin, giving the boy a red glow that made his eyes hurt.
Edward stomped inside, raising the dust in the small cave, and dumped his bundle on the cave floor. He then sat down, cross-legged like a tailor, and began to unroll it. It looked like a bundle of foliage to his eyes; dry grasses and scrubby brushes that grew in the waterless region.
Ed shuffled through them until he had them all rearranged into some satisfactory order. Leaning over, Ed clapped his hands, then put them to the side of the... bowl... which they were contained in. The light of the reaction, alien and unwanted, was too much for his eyes; he had to close them against the pain.
When he opened them, Ed was bending over a bowl of food. He was poking at them, apparently checking his work.
Only when all the contents met to his satisfaction did Ed look up. Those fierce yellow eyes gave him the same jolt that had struck him the first time he'd seen them up close. The color was foreign, unnatural, but the shape and intensity were painfully close to home.
"So," Edward said without preamble, "you're awake, you bastard."
Every statement directed at him now seemed to be prefaced with "you bastard." He didn't much mind; it was as good a name as any other. He gave a noncommittal noise in response.
Ed was still staring, and he didn't have the will to muster for a contest of willpower right now; he knew how badly he'd lose. Instead, he let his eyes slip back to the stone roof. "What is this place?"
"Hell if I know. This is your country, not mine," Ed said, an angry grumble behind each word. "Some hole in a ground somewhere to the north of a nice shiny new hole in the ground that used to be Lior. The military's crawling over the area. Looking for you."
Which left the rather obvious question as to why Edward was hiding from his own people, but that led into the one that had been plaguing him ever since he'd woken up out of what was supposed to be the longest sleep. "Why did you save me?"
Edward seemed to have been waiting for this question; those words made him quiver like a bowstring. In a fast motion, he was on his feet again, glaring down from his -- momentary -- advantage in height. "Well I can tell you, it wasn't because I've got any fondness for you!" Ed snapped out, and it was clear from his tone how much he'd been itching to say this. "You're a filthy killer, you always were. Bad enough when you were doing little girls in alleys and anyone with a watch, but now you've taken out an entire fucking city, and I don't know that there's even a level in Hell for you for that --"
There was. He could have told him that. Instead, he interrupted -- "Those people were not innocents." It would seem cowardly to say that while not meeting the boy's eyes, so he made the effort. "Invading Lior was an act of war. They came to torment and kill innocent civilians. If they had not made that move, they would not have walked into that trap?"
He saw metal fingers clench; Ed was trembling. "Is that supposed to make it all right somehow?" he raged. "Soldiers or civilians, they were still my countrymen! And most of them had no control over where they were going or what they were doing, they were innocent pawns!"
"They ceased to be innocent when they wore the blue uniform." He closed his eyes; the light coming off of Edward was unbearable. "As you ceased to be innocent when you took that watch and became an attack dog for your military."
There was a long silence, and then footsteps as Ed approached. He opened his eyes to see Edward just a few feet away, burning him with his gaze. "I stopped being innocent long before that," he said quietly. "But I would never have done what you did, not in a thousand years."
"So." So the boy hated him. Well, he had justification for that, but that didn't explain anything; it only made things more clear. "Why?"
"Why'd I save you? Two reasons." The boy was clearly making an effort to push back some strong emotion; how uncharacteristic of him. "One, because it's what Al would have wanted. I don't know what the fuck he saw in you, you bastard, but he wouldn't have wanted to let you die there in the sand, and he wouldn't have turned you over to the soldiers, either. He's just that kind of an idiot."
Oh yes. He had a good idea of just how much of an idiot kind, soft-hearted Alphonse Elric was. He couldn't forget the way Al had pushed himself into the fight between himself and Kimbley, trying his best to get them to stop, to end the violence; his interference had only made things worse, but the important thing was that he tried. "And?"
"And the second reason is that I want some goddamned answers!" Ed hissed, and leaned over him; teeth bared and eyes flashing. "All I saw was that burst of light. Al was in that city, you bastard, and now he's gone, I can't find him anywhere, all I found was your worthless hide --"
Ed continued ranting for a bit, but he was more worried about the implications of this. All the memories from that point on were too fuzzy. Too patchy. But he thought he remembered --
" -- And also," Ed said, snapping his attention back as he moved his hand to his thigh, pulling something out from where it had been lying against his skin. Ed shoved it in his face, and it made him almost ill to have it so near -- red and terrible, terrible -- " --I want to know what in the seven hells is this!"
I'm depressed. This is hard. 1st vs. 3rd is the least of my worries -- I can't do this voice. The character won't speak to me. I think he's sulking. ._. Please let me know what you think, particularly about the dialogue and characterization.
Yes, this is TBC.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 06:43 am (UTC)YES! I WIN!Ooooh, shiny. Please write more?
And it's all right for him to sulk. He's a pretty sulky guy. Even more so in this situation, probably.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 03:39 pm (UTC)Scar: My people are dead. My homeland is destroyed. The refugees are still persecuted and tormented by the godless military. I must avenge them all.
Ed: So... you're sulking.
Scar: I am not!
Ed: Sure you're not.
Scar: *sulks*
no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 03:51 pm (UTC)...Not that Ed is one to talk.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 08:06 am (UTC)I think the characterization is just fine. Keep going.
no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 10:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-11 03:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 10:46 am (UTC)Characterization was reaally good, I thought, and your dialogue, as always just smacks me upside the head in a grab-my-attention sort of way. *waits for next part* ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-06-12 05:12 pm (UTC)Patience, all will become clear. *grin grin*