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_days2012-07-15 07:54 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-07-15 07:54 pm
[July 15] [Fullmetal Alchemist] Leave No Witnesses
Title: Leave No Witnesses
Day/Theme: July 15, 2012 "Witnessed by no waking eye"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Scar, OCs
Rating: PG-13
Author's comment: A direct continuation from July 9th's Bold as the Dark.
Ductile snapped awake- and afraid. His eyes were pale, like ice. "Angel of death," he gasped, shivering, "I should've known you would be Ishvalan." The breath rasped in his throat.
Scar approved of how he had the general idea. "I will allow you a moment to pray," he granted. It was what he would have wanted had the tables been turned. Maybe Ductile, out of all the State Alchemists he had met, would have been inclined to give it to him.
"M-mister," the alchemist fought for control over his uncooperative form, "Mister, if I die, there will be no one to-"
"You have a last request."
"There will be no one to look after my daughter."
His daughter- no one had mentioned his daughter. Scar thought of his rowdy female cousins, bereft Kuya Nilhar, and the beautiful oldest daughter from the family of sisters. He didn't know whether half of them were alive or dead (Be well, he hoped, Be alive). "You've chosen unwisely to be unprepared." There were more bottles in the bedroom. Most appeared to be empty. What did the young (presumably, from the way her father behaved) Miss Percy think of the state her father was in?
"I saw how the state looked at the families of its best alchemists… I saw too much."
Though all but certain that Percy would not chose to fight, Scar held his stiff, ready posture. If her father's pained coughs drew Percy's daughter out, how would he deal with her?
"W-would've sent her- if I could've- sent her to Marcoh. In- in the desk," as Percy pointed, his hand trembled, "My letter- mail my letter?"
Scar opened the drawer. The missive in question stood out on top of a stack of alchemy notes (they would also have to go). It was already sealed, stamped, and addressed (what had he been waiting for?). "I will send it," he promised- all he would have to do was drop it into a mailbox, after all. He doubted that honoring Percy's last wish would hinder his mission any.
"Her name is Aubrey." Percy tried to calm himself with a deep breath, but the way it rattled around inside him was hardly reassuring. He closed his eyes, his lips set in a grimace.
He wanted something else, but what? How could Scar know? …What did fathers always like to hear? …Among the greatest compliments one could ever give his father had been… "That's a nice name. I'm sure you're very proud of her."
"Hmm," a tear ran down Percy's careworn cheek.
"…She'll be all right," Scar said. Any harm that befell Aubrey Percy would not issue forth from him.
"Yes," Percy answered. He was tired and frightened, but he agreed.
"Go with God," Scar announced, and in a crackling rush of energy, released him.
Blood stained the pillow around Henry Percy's head, but his eyes were closed. The highest judge would handle him justly. He turned away from Percy and tucked the letter into a pocket. Although he would not go to any extra efforts to seek out and destroy them, he could hardly walk away and leave the notes in plain sight as they were. The only legacy they would be for his daughter was one of pain.
They crumbled to bits as easily as any other target.
A floorboard creaked.
Scar looked back to the door. A girl (woman?) was staring into the dark room. How long had she been there? Was she who had brought the tear to Percy's eye? Most importantly, how much had she seen?
She didn't tremble. Her pose was very still. "Papa?" she asked, in a tense voice, "Is everything okay?"
Did the shadows hide him that well? Scar held his breath. What, if anything, should he say? …Aubrey Percy was not as young as he had expected.
She listened to the silence, but didn't turn her head toward the intruder in her home. How long would this standoff continue? He was not well hidden; she would see him. …Was she shocked by what she saw into standing like a statue?
"Papa?" she asked again and took a step forward.
Her eyes. Scar noticed now. They were paler than even her father's and glassy. She wasn't looking at anything. She could not longer hear her father's familiar raspy breathing- that was what had stopped her. She was blind.
He could go- unseen- or--
She was at her father's side. She leaned down close to listen for breathing she would never hear again. She touched his shoulder. "Papa," she gave him a little shake. "Papa." Her fingers were so near to touching his blood.
"Aubrey Percy," Scar spoke up and froze her to the spot, "Your father died."
Day/Theme: July 15, 2012 "Witnessed by no waking eye"
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist
Character/Pairing: Scar, OCs
Rating: PG-13
Author's comment: A direct continuation from July 9th's Bold as the Dark.
Ductile snapped awake- and afraid. His eyes were pale, like ice. "Angel of death," he gasped, shivering, "I should've known you would be Ishvalan." The breath rasped in his throat.
Scar approved of how he had the general idea. "I will allow you a moment to pray," he granted. It was what he would have wanted had the tables been turned. Maybe Ductile, out of all the State Alchemists he had met, would have been inclined to give it to him.
"M-mister," the alchemist fought for control over his uncooperative form, "Mister, if I die, there will be no one to-"
"You have a last request."
"There will be no one to look after my daughter."
His daughter- no one had mentioned his daughter. Scar thought of his rowdy female cousins, bereft Kuya Nilhar, and the beautiful oldest daughter from the family of sisters. He didn't know whether half of them were alive or dead (Be well, he hoped, Be alive). "You've chosen unwisely to be unprepared." There were more bottles in the bedroom. Most appeared to be empty. What did the young (presumably, from the way her father behaved) Miss Percy think of the state her father was in?
"I saw how the state looked at the families of its best alchemists… I saw too much."
Though all but certain that Percy would not chose to fight, Scar held his stiff, ready posture. If her father's pained coughs drew Percy's daughter out, how would he deal with her?
"W-would've sent her- if I could've- sent her to Marcoh. In- in the desk," as Percy pointed, his hand trembled, "My letter- mail my letter?"
Scar opened the drawer. The missive in question stood out on top of a stack of alchemy notes (they would also have to go). It was already sealed, stamped, and addressed (what had he been waiting for?). "I will send it," he promised- all he would have to do was drop it into a mailbox, after all. He doubted that honoring Percy's last wish would hinder his mission any.
"Her name is Aubrey." Percy tried to calm himself with a deep breath, but the way it rattled around inside him was hardly reassuring. He closed his eyes, his lips set in a grimace.
He wanted something else, but what? How could Scar know? …What did fathers always like to hear? …Among the greatest compliments one could ever give his father had been… "That's a nice name. I'm sure you're very proud of her."
"Hmm," a tear ran down Percy's careworn cheek.
"…She'll be all right," Scar said. Any harm that befell Aubrey Percy would not issue forth from him.
"Yes," Percy answered. He was tired and frightened, but he agreed.
"Go with God," Scar announced, and in a crackling rush of energy, released him.
Blood stained the pillow around Henry Percy's head, but his eyes were closed. The highest judge would handle him justly. He turned away from Percy and tucked the letter into a pocket. Although he would not go to any extra efforts to seek out and destroy them, he could hardly walk away and leave the notes in plain sight as they were. The only legacy they would be for his daughter was one of pain.
They crumbled to bits as easily as any other target.
A floorboard creaked.
Scar looked back to the door. A girl (woman?) was staring into the dark room. How long had she been there? Was she who had brought the tear to Percy's eye? Most importantly, how much had she seen?
She didn't tremble. Her pose was very still. "Papa?" she asked, in a tense voice, "Is everything okay?"
Did the shadows hide him that well? Scar held his breath. What, if anything, should he say? …Aubrey Percy was not as young as he had expected.
She listened to the silence, but didn't turn her head toward the intruder in her home. How long would this standoff continue? He was not well hidden; she would see him. …Was she shocked by what she saw into standing like a statue?
"Papa?" she asked again and took a step forward.
Her eyes. Scar noticed now. They were paler than even her father's and glassy. She wasn't looking at anything. She could not longer hear her father's familiar raspy breathing- that was what had stopped her. She was blind.
He could go- unseen- or--
She was at her father's side. She leaned down close to listen for breathing she would never hear again. She touched his shoulder. "Papa," she gave him a little shake. "Papa." Her fingers were so near to touching his blood.
"Aubrey Percy," Scar spoke up and froze her to the spot, "Your father died."