Resting
Resting
Gen. G. 280. Dark theme.
Roy always felt the guilt.
He always felt the guilt. He’d once even considered bringing back the people from the war that he’d killed as penance.
Maes had put a quick stop to that.
Years after the fact, and he still remembered the things he’d done. He remembered the faces of those he’d killed up close. He hid from the shameful idea that he’d felt powerful on the battlefield. He heard the screams and tasted the ash. He made certain that he would never forget.
During the day, he had distractions. Sometimes Fullmetal was in his office. Other times, Maes would come through with his pictures. Usually though, he was faced with paperwork. Mounds and mounds of papers that never ended and seemed intent on the process of taking his sanity.
He was shamed to admit that he preferred working out in the field.
It was in his blood, that desire for the rush of alchemy that only came when one was in a deadly situation. Life and death was thrilling. He knew he was supposed to feel the guilt that came with the weight of lives that he’d taken, and he did.
He was seeking to right the wrongs he’d committed so he strove to reach the top so he could change things. So he could make sure that that travesty never happened again. He didn’t want to wake in the mornings sick to his stomach anymore.
He hated the nights most especially though, they were a unique brand of torture designed just for him. No matter how he tried, all the guilt, all the pain, all the horror… he still slept peacefully.
That was why he tried to avoid sleeping all together.
Gen. G. 280. Dark theme.
Roy always felt the guilt.
He always felt the guilt. He’d once even considered bringing back the people from the war that he’d killed as penance.
Maes had put a quick stop to that.
Years after the fact, and he still remembered the things he’d done. He remembered the faces of those he’d killed up close. He hid from the shameful idea that he’d felt powerful on the battlefield. He heard the screams and tasted the ash. He made certain that he would never forget.
During the day, he had distractions. Sometimes Fullmetal was in his office. Other times, Maes would come through with his pictures. Usually though, he was faced with paperwork. Mounds and mounds of papers that never ended and seemed intent on the process of taking his sanity.
He was shamed to admit that he preferred working out in the field.
It was in his blood, that desire for the rush of alchemy that only came when one was in a deadly situation. Life and death was thrilling. He knew he was supposed to feel the guilt that came with the weight of lives that he’d taken, and he did.
He was seeking to right the wrongs he’d committed so he strove to reach the top so he could change things. So he could make sure that that travesty never happened again. He didn’t want to wake in the mornings sick to his stomach anymore.
He hated the nights most especially though, they were a unique brand of torture designed just for him. No matter how he tried, all the guilt, all the pain, all the horror… he still slept peacefully.
That was why he tried to avoid sleeping all together.