An Interesting Finding
Full Metal Alchemist Singular instance from multi-chp. fic
Scar/Lust
"It’s beautiful," he said quietly, eyes glued to the sight, his awe apparent in every word and every action. "Look," he commanded her, "don’t you think so? Isn’t it amazing? Like some precious stone- beautiful."
She put a guarding hand on his shoulder. "It is lovely, but it’s dangerous too. Tragic. This is the pinnacle of their grief - of all this family has lost." She sighed quietly, a brilliant breath of mourning for a situation that truly struck a chord in her heart. "But then, that’s life. Just an unending poetic tragedy."
The boy looked up at her with his big, innocent, liquid eyes- the jewels of their people, a mark of the heritage they were proud of. His face was a mix of shadow juxtaposed with the ghoulish orange fire-light, flickering slowly as it turned the once-proud home into dusty ash. "Poetic tragedy?" he asked, a smooth blend of curiosity and sadness in his voice.
"Yes," she answered, certain of the inescapable truth of her words. "No matter how beautiful something is, it can only end in some form of tragedy." He seemed so young then- like a small child instead of the adolescent he really was. She wondered if she’d ever been so naïve and innocent, so carefree and unburdened. He was lucky; for a time, he could still live.
The turned away from the smoldering ruins, the sense of togetherness they shared stronger than ever. He and his brother had become her family- they were all she had.
************************************************************
I wrote this well over a year - that's three notebooks - ago. How strange that I should find it now... And yes, this is the girl Lust was before her death and subsequent humunculus, er... -ification. You understand. (heh.)
-ILB out
Scar/Lust
"It’s beautiful," he said quietly, eyes glued to the sight, his awe apparent in every word and every action. "Look," he commanded her, "don’t you think so? Isn’t it amazing? Like some precious stone- beautiful."
She put a guarding hand on his shoulder. "It is lovely, but it’s dangerous too. Tragic. This is the pinnacle of their grief - of all this family has lost." She sighed quietly, a brilliant breath of mourning for a situation that truly struck a chord in her heart. "But then, that’s life. Just an unending poetic tragedy."
The boy looked up at her with his big, innocent, liquid eyes- the jewels of their people, a mark of the heritage they were proud of. His face was a mix of shadow juxtaposed with the ghoulish orange fire-light, flickering slowly as it turned the once-proud home into dusty ash. "Poetic tragedy?" he asked, a smooth blend of curiosity and sadness in his voice.
"Yes," she answered, certain of the inescapable truth of her words. "No matter how beautiful something is, it can only end in some form of tragedy." He seemed so young then- like a small child instead of the adolescent he really was. She wondered if she’d ever been so naïve and innocent, so carefree and unburdened. He was lucky; for a time, he could still live.
The turned away from the smoldering ruins, the sense of togetherness they shared stronger than ever. He and his brother had become her family- they were all she had.
************************************************************
I wrote this well over a year - that's three notebooks - ago. How strange that I should find it now... And yes, this is the girl Lust was before her death and subsequent humunculus, er... -ification. You understand. (heh.)
-ILB out