ext_158887 (
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in
31_days2012-07-01 11:10 pm
[July 1] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Everything I Know We Are
Title: Everything I Know We Are
Day/Theme: July 1, 2012 "He wanted to explain how people were never quite what you thought they were."
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Scar, Miles, Dr. Marcoh
Rating: PG
Comment unrelated to the story: Aaah, I'm loving all the stories posted here so far this month! (and you know because these are my themes I'm going to read absolutely every one) <3
Major Miles was sleeping. He napped efficiently, as he did most things. He had considered their time table, honored the men traveling alongside him with a polite amount of small talk, read a selection of articles in the newspaper, then folded up the paper, taken off his sunglasses, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. He drifted off in due course.
All this orderliness didn't extend to the little snoring noises he made while sleeping though. They weren't loud or particularly disruptive, just tiny wheezes of breath. Dr. Marcoh and the man he still thought of as "Scar" smiled at each other. Miles was a light sleeper and might be disturbed if they shared a laugh, but his snoring seemed charmingly unguarded.
In Marcoh's opinion, he and Scar had gotten to know one another fairly well by this point. Although they were unaware of many of the small details of their pasts and hobbies and what-not, when it came to heavy topics (the deep things, Marcoh thought, the things that really mattered), their hearts were open. After all, Marcoh was alive; Scar was walking this path.
"You're going to read?" Scar muttered softly, nodding to the book Marcoh had yet to open, but had been tracing the embossed lettering on the cover since taking his seat.
It occurred to him then that perhaps Scar had something he wanted to ask him (just wanting to talk didn't seem like him). "If that's not a problem…"
"No. I just wondered if you had a pencil and paper I could use."
"Certainly." Marcoh wouldn't ask what he wanted them for. He dug around in his satchel until he found a pencil. His notepad was easier to find as it was too large to slide down into the bottom of the bag. "Here you are. Will this suit your purposes?"
"They'll do fine."
Once again, Marcoh didn't waste his companion's time with unnecessary comments or questions, but the gentle sketching motion of Scar's hand drew his eyes away from the book (which really wasn't that interesting anyway). Scar wasn't drawing anything in the train compartment around him, but rather an image that came straight from his mind- something he remembered, or something he was creating now Marcoh couldn't say. Stylized letters from the Ishvalan alphabet combined with flowery whirls and patterns. Marcoh didn't know the words or the meaning of the designs, but still it moved him.
The sudden rush of emotion made him feel suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed that Scar might catch him staring. He put an extra effort into keeping his eyes down and focused on his book.
Miles mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep.
"Is it because you like it, or does it bring back bad memories?" Scar asked.
Marcoh's battered face colored as it was revealed to him that Scar was all too aware of his snooping. "I, uh," he stumbled over his answer, "It's beautiful. …But perhaps the other idea is right as well. And then there's…I wouldn't have taken you for an artist."
"Lately I've been remembering that I am- or at least I once was- lots of things."
"You're talented."
"In a way, it's a sort of meditation. I have a lot of thinking left to do about myself. …About my people… …About my god…"
Although Scar spoke only for himself, these were things the doctor saw reason to think of too. And all the things he had once been as well. He had liked to cook.
Scar went back to his art. He made his lines as brisk and strong as he carved the path of his life.
Marcoh remembered that Kimblee had been an artist too. He wondered why he only thought of it now. He wondered if it was something he could ever say.
----
additional author's comment/pointless musing: Well, I was trying to write with this theme in mind, but this ended up feeling a bit like my theme for the 3rd as well. It would've been nice to think up a longer story to make out of these...a lot of the themes feel like they could be connected to me...
Day/Theme: July 1, 2012 "He wanted to explain how people were never quite what you thought they were."
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Scar, Miles, Dr. Marcoh
Rating: PG
Comment unrelated to the story: Aaah, I'm loving all the stories posted here so far this month! (and you know because these are my themes I'm going to read absolutely every one) <3
Major Miles was sleeping. He napped efficiently, as he did most things. He had considered their time table, honored the men traveling alongside him with a polite amount of small talk, read a selection of articles in the newspaper, then folded up the paper, taken off his sunglasses, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. He drifted off in due course.
All this orderliness didn't extend to the little snoring noises he made while sleeping though. They weren't loud or particularly disruptive, just tiny wheezes of breath. Dr. Marcoh and the man he still thought of as "Scar" smiled at each other. Miles was a light sleeper and might be disturbed if they shared a laugh, but his snoring seemed charmingly unguarded.
In Marcoh's opinion, he and Scar had gotten to know one another fairly well by this point. Although they were unaware of many of the small details of their pasts and hobbies and what-not, when it came to heavy topics (the deep things, Marcoh thought, the things that really mattered), their hearts were open. After all, Marcoh was alive; Scar was walking this path.
"You're going to read?" Scar muttered softly, nodding to the book Marcoh had yet to open, but had been tracing the embossed lettering on the cover since taking his seat.
It occurred to him then that perhaps Scar had something he wanted to ask him (just wanting to talk didn't seem like him). "If that's not a problem…"
"No. I just wondered if you had a pencil and paper I could use."
"Certainly." Marcoh wouldn't ask what he wanted them for. He dug around in his satchel until he found a pencil. His notepad was easier to find as it was too large to slide down into the bottom of the bag. "Here you are. Will this suit your purposes?"
"They'll do fine."
Once again, Marcoh didn't waste his companion's time with unnecessary comments or questions, but the gentle sketching motion of Scar's hand drew his eyes away from the book (which really wasn't that interesting anyway). Scar wasn't drawing anything in the train compartment around him, but rather an image that came straight from his mind- something he remembered, or something he was creating now Marcoh couldn't say. Stylized letters from the Ishvalan alphabet combined with flowery whirls and patterns. Marcoh didn't know the words or the meaning of the designs, but still it moved him.
The sudden rush of emotion made him feel suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed that Scar might catch him staring. He put an extra effort into keeping his eyes down and focused on his book.
Miles mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep.
"Is it because you like it, or does it bring back bad memories?" Scar asked.
Marcoh's battered face colored as it was revealed to him that Scar was all too aware of his snooping. "I, uh," he stumbled over his answer, "It's beautiful. …But perhaps the other idea is right as well. And then there's…I wouldn't have taken you for an artist."
"Lately I've been remembering that I am- or at least I once was- lots of things."
"You're talented."
"In a way, it's a sort of meditation. I have a lot of thinking left to do about myself. …About my people… …About my god…"
Although Scar spoke only for himself, these were things the doctor saw reason to think of too. And all the things he had once been as well. He had liked to cook.
Scar went back to his art. He made his lines as brisk and strong as he carved the path of his life.
Marcoh remembered that Kimblee had been an artist too. He wondered why he only thought of it now. He wondered if it was something he could ever say.
----
additional author's comment/pointless musing: Well, I was trying to write with this theme in mind, but this ended up feeling a bit like my theme for the 3rd as well. It would've been nice to think up a longer story to make out of these...a lot of the themes feel like they could be connected to me...
