ext_158887 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2010-04-12 02:43 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2010-04-12 02:43 pm
[April 12] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Free and Innocent
Title: Free and Innocent
Day/Theme: April 12, 2010 "Some things that glitter may be gold"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Kimblee
Rating: PG
Prison had been a challenge, but he liked challenges. All in all, too many parts of it had been easy to overcome. Mind over matter. And he had plenty of ways to occupy his mind.
But freedom. It was far and beyond superior to imprisonment, as any soul, rational or not, could tell you. He felt not quite like a new man, but perhaps a man reborn. New shoes, new suit, new hat. He looked all right. A little older than he liked, having caught few extended looks at himself in the interim and not feeling accustomed to the slight changes, but all right. He was older, and that on its own was proof he had survived.
A long shower. Excessive. He couldn't say he didn't deserve it. He massaged the shampoo into his scalp, tending to the roots of his needy hair. The bubbly concoction had a scent that reminded him of spring rains and barbershops. It was better than that standard military issue slop. Needless to say, it was better than anything that had touched his head in prison. He had been under such strict guard- it was nice to see his abilities feared by those who had once encouraged him to cultivate them- that his usual neat look had inevitably suffered. He was a little vain. It was true.
His loose hair hung far down his back and he reached back, running his fingers through his drenched locks from top to bottom. Smooth. Clean. Better. He hated the idea of putting himself straight out of prison into that fresh white suit. When they'd measured him for it, he'd noticed he'd lost some weight.
Enough of that. He stopped the water. A cloud of steam followed his tattooed hand as he reached for a towel. The moisture and warmth clung to the air around him as he dried off and went to dress.
Hidden under his hat, the ultimate treasure perched atop his dresser, awaiting him. He lifted the white fedora and smiled, wide and toothless, the expression all in his narrow eyes and taut lips. He saw his smile reflected back at him across the slim stone's shining surface. Lying there, in the coil of his purple tie, it looked perfectly innocent. As innocent as something created out of human sacrifices could look.
And he would know something about that. Solf J. Kimblee was just as innocent.
Day/Theme: April 12, 2010 "Some things that glitter may be gold"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Kimblee
Rating: PG
Prison had been a challenge, but he liked challenges. All in all, too many parts of it had been easy to overcome. Mind over matter. And he had plenty of ways to occupy his mind.
But freedom. It was far and beyond superior to imprisonment, as any soul, rational or not, could tell you. He felt not quite like a new man, but perhaps a man reborn. New shoes, new suit, new hat. He looked all right. A little older than he liked, having caught few extended looks at himself in the interim and not feeling accustomed to the slight changes, but all right. He was older, and that on its own was proof he had survived.
A long shower. Excessive. He couldn't say he didn't deserve it. He massaged the shampoo into his scalp, tending to the roots of his needy hair. The bubbly concoction had a scent that reminded him of spring rains and barbershops. It was better than that standard military issue slop. Needless to say, it was better than anything that had touched his head in prison. He had been under such strict guard- it was nice to see his abilities feared by those who had once encouraged him to cultivate them- that his usual neat look had inevitably suffered. He was a little vain. It was true.
His loose hair hung far down his back and he reached back, running his fingers through his drenched locks from top to bottom. Smooth. Clean. Better. He hated the idea of putting himself straight out of prison into that fresh white suit. When they'd measured him for it, he'd noticed he'd lost some weight.
Enough of that. He stopped the water. A cloud of steam followed his tattooed hand as he reached for a towel. The moisture and warmth clung to the air around him as he dried off and went to dress.
Hidden under his hat, the ultimate treasure perched atop his dresser, awaiting him. He lifted the white fedora and smiled, wide and toothless, the expression all in his narrow eyes and taut lips. He saw his smile reflected back at him across the slim stone's shining surface. Lying there, in the coil of his purple tie, it looked perfectly innocent. As innocent as something created out of human sacrifices could look.
And he would know something about that. Solf J. Kimblee was just as innocent.