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31_days2011-01-10 05:57 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-01-10 05:57 pm
[Jan. 10] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Worn Down Without a Purpose
Title: Worn Down Without a Purpose
Day/Theme: Jan. 10, 2011 "Sadder than a train standing in the rain"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Kimblee, Ed, Winry
Rating: PG
Author's comment: Yesterday I had Sarah survive, so today it's Kimblee. ...I need more writing ideas. I feel kind of wrung out.
What was life without the ability to practice his art? His entire adult life Kimblee had been an alchemist. Without it, he was nothing. He couldn't fathom how Fullmetal- no, he was only Edward now- was managing so simply. Had he underestimated the younger man's devotion to his craft or was his worldview truly that different from Fullmetal's? ("Edward," he reminded himself. It would take a while to fully make that switch over in his mind. No one was probably going to be calling him the Crimson Lotus these days either. He would miss that.)
Edward had just fixed the roof the other day and he had done a good job at it, because there wasn't any rain coming in where it had on the weekend before. Kimblee sat quietly at the kitchen table and stared out into the storm. Resembool reminded him of home. It was about equally isolated as Fernberg, and possessed of not just a similar size, but of a like quality as well. ...Did it make him feel guilty to be here? Well, no, but it did make him think.
There were many things on his mind now that he generally did not consider. He had thought about telling Winry about his remaining family during one of their soft evening chats while Edward was away, but decided against it when he imagined her response. She would tell him to see them, he was sure, and he didn't want to go. There was a real possibility that they would resist seeing him in the first place, and even if they were willing to engage with him- their son, the mass murderer, the black sheep, the criminal- he did not want the meager things they had to offer him. He wanted to feel the thrill of destruction again. He wanted to be an alchemist, not the manager of a factory.
"I'd never seen you mope before you came to my house, Kimblee," Ed said, pouring himself a cup as well and coming to sit down at the table across from his unwanted guest. "It's kind of creepy. Not that that comes as any surprise, right? ...I still don't know how you convinced Winry to let you stay here." Ed took a sip, made a thoughtful face, and scooped a healthy dose of sugar into his mug. "Hmm, that's better."
"She's a very kind person," Kimblee answered, avoiding bringing up the details (Edward would not like to know the details and Winry would not like him to tell them). "You're lucky to have her."
"Don't I know it," Ed started to respond before recoiling and cutting through his own words with a scowl, "I don't want to hear about that from you, old man! You're a guest in my house and you don't contribute anything useful around here, so you better watch your manners."
"Actually, Ed," Winry announced, striding purposefully into the room, a mop and bucket clenched in her hands, "You seem to be getting a bit forgetful these days. This isn't your house- it's Granny's house. It's up to her who gets to stay here."
"Luckily for your sake, she doesn't know anything about you," Ed remarked casually to Kimblee, eager to remain on top even if the situation were no longer really under his control.
"I told her a little bit," Winry admitted. "I mean, I had to say something if I was asking to let you stay here. You're a bit too old and imposing to be a normal kind of friend..."
Ed waited to see if this would bother Kimblee, but if it did, he kept the emotion inside. He understood the situation. He was fortunate enough to be here now and not back in prison. He wondered about that sometimes. Mustang had to know that he was still alive, what with the way he kept tabs on the Elrics and all... Was the blind eye he turned only temporary? Was this some twisted sort of parole? He did not want to go back to prison. He certainly had no desire to return to death row. His life without his alchemy was bad enough as it was. "I know," he agreed calmly. He had nothing but warm feelings for this girl. She was, as far as he was concerned, the only one he owed anything too. She had helped him, vouched for him, and put him up here. Edward couldn't expect anything from him, but for Winry, he would be a perfect gentleman.
It was something to concentrate on, but it didn't stop him from feeling empty.
Day/Theme: Jan. 10, 2011 "Sadder than a train standing in the rain"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Kimblee, Ed, Winry
Rating: PG
Author's comment: Yesterday I had Sarah survive, so today it's Kimblee. ...I need more writing ideas. I feel kind of wrung out.
What was life without the ability to practice his art? His entire adult life Kimblee had been an alchemist. Without it, he was nothing. He couldn't fathom how Fullmetal- no, he was only Edward now- was managing so simply. Had he underestimated the younger man's devotion to his craft or was his worldview truly that different from Fullmetal's? ("Edward," he reminded himself. It would take a while to fully make that switch over in his mind. No one was probably going to be calling him the Crimson Lotus these days either. He would miss that.)
Edward had just fixed the roof the other day and he had done a good job at it, because there wasn't any rain coming in where it had on the weekend before. Kimblee sat quietly at the kitchen table and stared out into the storm. Resembool reminded him of home. It was about equally isolated as Fernberg, and possessed of not just a similar size, but of a like quality as well. ...Did it make him feel guilty to be here? Well, no, but it did make him think.
There were many things on his mind now that he generally did not consider. He had thought about telling Winry about his remaining family during one of their soft evening chats while Edward was away, but decided against it when he imagined her response. She would tell him to see them, he was sure, and he didn't want to go. There was a real possibility that they would resist seeing him in the first place, and even if they were willing to engage with him- their son, the mass murderer, the black sheep, the criminal- he did not want the meager things they had to offer him. He wanted to feel the thrill of destruction again. He wanted to be an alchemist, not the manager of a factory.
"I'd never seen you mope before you came to my house, Kimblee," Ed said, pouring himself a cup as well and coming to sit down at the table across from his unwanted guest. "It's kind of creepy. Not that that comes as any surprise, right? ...I still don't know how you convinced Winry to let you stay here." Ed took a sip, made a thoughtful face, and scooped a healthy dose of sugar into his mug. "Hmm, that's better."
"She's a very kind person," Kimblee answered, avoiding bringing up the details (Edward would not like to know the details and Winry would not like him to tell them). "You're lucky to have her."
"Don't I know it," Ed started to respond before recoiling and cutting through his own words with a scowl, "I don't want to hear about that from you, old man! You're a guest in my house and you don't contribute anything useful around here, so you better watch your manners."
"Actually, Ed," Winry announced, striding purposefully into the room, a mop and bucket clenched in her hands, "You seem to be getting a bit forgetful these days. This isn't your house- it's Granny's house. It's up to her who gets to stay here."
"Luckily for your sake, she doesn't know anything about you," Ed remarked casually to Kimblee, eager to remain on top even if the situation were no longer really under his control.
"I told her a little bit," Winry admitted. "I mean, I had to say something if I was asking to let you stay here. You're a bit too old and imposing to be a normal kind of friend..."
Ed waited to see if this would bother Kimblee, but if it did, he kept the emotion inside. He understood the situation. He was fortunate enough to be here now and not back in prison. He wondered about that sometimes. Mustang had to know that he was still alive, what with the way he kept tabs on the Elrics and all... Was the blind eye he turned only temporary? Was this some twisted sort of parole? He did not want to go back to prison. He certainly had no desire to return to death row. His life without his alchemy was bad enough as it was. "I know," he agreed calmly. He had nothing but warm feelings for this girl. She was, as far as he was concerned, the only one he owed anything too. She had helped him, vouched for him, and put him up here. Edward couldn't expect anything from him, but for Winry, he would be a perfect gentleman.
It was something to concentrate on, but it didn't stop him from feeling empty.