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04 October 2012 @ 12:18 am
Drabble tree !  
v1_1_1


(Rules adapted from muir_wolf)
How this works: below is a drabble. To participate, reply to this post with another drabble (or small ficclet, we won't count the words) containing a sentence or phrase from the original. Please leave the words you took on the first line, as well as the characters/pairing/rating/tw. The next person continues the trend, taking a sentence or phrase from any of the existing drabbles and creating their own.
You can draw from any drabble as many times as you want. It's okay to change the tense or the POV of the bit you've taken if you need to for it to make sense !
The tree will be up till the end of Sunday - once it's close, you can comment all the way you want (the tree would be a bit difficult to read with comments in the middle of it)




Starter drabble (Winry, G)

The only constant about those birthdays is that neither of them is here.
Last year, they were both in Central and today - Alphonse is with Mei so she doesn’t have to worry at all, especially when she received a long letter from them. As for Ed, he’s somewhere in the West, that’s for sure - but she’s used not to have any news from him and, to be fair, the contrary would be quite scary.
She doesn’t mind - worrying about them at this point would be ridiculous. With so many patients to take care of, it would be a full time job she just couldn’t afford. But she allows herself an hour to climb the familiar hill and leave flowers among the remains of a burnt house being slowly reclaimed by grass.



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Barking at the wind: FMA Ed-Win FMA B Loveevil_little_dog on October 3rd, 2012 11:54 pm (UTC)
Edward, Teen

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Normally, Ed didn't remember days; calendars were for people who stayed in one place, damn it, but today was important, and he'd vowed to himself to grow up, and not put aside things like this. He couldn't just keep living in the now, and not think that there were people who wanted to know he was okay. Not to mention, that he was thinking about them.

The call box felt hot and stuffy, and Edward tried again to understand the Western accent from the operator. "Ris. Em. Bool." He repeated slowly. "Pinako Rockbell." He twined the wire around his finger, glaring at the stupid telephone dangling above his head. Knowing that the only constant about those birthdays is that neither of them are there with her - well, he had to do something to change it, in some little way.

Another promise to her, as if he was going to keep coun -

"Rockbell Automail." Pinako's voice never sounded so good, and a stupid smile brightened Ed's face.

"Granny. Let me talk to Winry."

It wasn't the same as being there, but it was better than nothing.
gaia_lulia: bloodgaia_lulia on October 4th, 2012 12:28 am (UTC)
Doctor Knox, G.

He couldn't just keep living in the now

Later, he found himself staring at dirty coffee cups in the sink, his hands shaking.

Nothing bad had happened. They'd stayed, and talked, and even if it was a little awkward, nothing bad had happened. Robert had given him a phone number and told him that he'd be in Central for a while. Judith hadn't said much- but she had mostly looked sad and a bit wistful.

He couldn't just keep living in the now, afraid to look back for fear that he'd see nothing but the eyes of the dead staring at him. Afraid to look forward, because what kind of future did a creature like him deserve?

He gripped the sink, his knuckles turning white.

Hope, that was what this feeling was. It felt like pins and needles in his heart.
Barking at the wind: FMA Hughes-Mustang Kiss me you foolevil_little_dog on October 4th, 2012 01:24 am (UTC)
Roy, K+

He gripped the sink, his knuckles turning white.

The words struck like a blow, and Roy had to swallow them down, and try to keep his composure in front of the others. Not his men, he could’ve reacted in front of them, but not before Grumman’s staff. He had to remain stoic, and in control, and not let that façade slip, because.

Because men didn’t cry.

Roy stared at himself in the mirror of the men’s room. He gripped the sink, his knuckles turning white. “Control,” he reminded himself. “Stay in control.”

He couldn’t let go now. Later, maybe, he could have a drink, or a bottle, and consider what had happened to his best friend. That he’d been on the telephone with him while he died. But now, right now, he had to put on his best poker face, and turn it on the world outside.

Inside, though, he knew a part of his heart was dying.
Bay Alexison: This is getting too mainstream in herebay115 on October 4th, 2012 02:08 am (UTC)
Roy, G
But now, right now, he had to put on his best poker face, and turn it on the world outside.

The last few days had been long ones for Roy. His subordinates snatched away from him, he found it hard to concentrate on his work sometimes. There was always that constant worry of Fuery and Breda dying on the battlefield somewhere, of Falman unable to adapt his new surroundings at Briggs, of Hawkeye still being watched by Fuhrer Bradley.

Roy was certain the Fuhrer knew he felt damaged inside, like a thousand fallen pieces. There were times he wanted to punch the wall and curse Bradley's name in public. But now, right now, he had to put on his best poker face, and turn it on the world outside.

The Promise Day looming ahead, he would make sure to not be checkmated yet.

Edited at 2012-10-04 02:09 am (UTC)
cornerofmadness: chriscornerofmadness on October 4th, 2012 03:14 am (UTC)
Chris Mustang, teen
men didn’t cry

Men didn’t cry. Chris had never taught her nephew that but society had. She saw the tears standing in his eyes, unshed as they parted ways below the city. She felt a little like crying herself. Years of work and worry had just been blown sky high. Her heart pounded, excited somehow and yet a little sick.

She promised him that she and the girls would leave the city. The girls would go. Hell, she’d go to, but not out of the country like she promised. There was more she could do. She had contacts even her nephew didn’t know. Chris couldn’t leave Roy to fight this battle on his own. Let him think she was somewhere safe. In the meantime, she’d lend a hand behind the scenes.

Still, the naked worry on his face, hit her deep. This might be the last time she ever saw the boy she thought of as a son. Chris steeled her jaw. That wouldn’t happen. This would not be the end, not if she had anything to say about it.
remaintobreathe: crrryremaintobreathe on October 4th, 2012 01:41 am (UTC)
he found himself staring at dirty coffee cups in the sink
Roy (G) (In honor of 'never forget')

Roy was a master of social events, he had always been able to flit easily back and forth between the higher-up's tables at proper intervals and make himself known, drop a tasteful (or not-so-tasteful depending on the company) joke and garner a giggle and occasional sultry look from a general's wife. But this was hard for him, small gatherings with acquaintances and even close friends, when things were somber, the silence weighed on him and the jokes died an early death on his tongue. Gracia had left early and he found himself staring at dirty coffee cups in the sink, thinking of the things he should have said and didn't.

Somehow when this anniversary came around Roy's charm dissipated along with his good humor. If there was one day he would never forget it would be the day he lost his best friend.