[closed] He's not perfect, he's a victim of his occupation
Who: Riza Hawkeye and Scar
When: uh... today actually
Where: Colonel Mustang's apartment... sans Colonel Mustang
Format: Intro is paragraph because I had to tl;dr. Tags could go either way!
What: It's... something. A reunion.
Warnings: Probably nothing.
Riza Hawkeye was many things, but none of them was a fool. She knew there were a lot of things she would need to do in order to take her life back into her own hands. Not the least of these was to relearn how to do everything without sight. It had only been a little over a week since she’s come back blind, but she had already figured out the most vital things. She was fortunate in her ability to precisely guess distances by sight - a talent which she could never use again, but which paid itself forward by giving her a perfect mental picture of the Colonel’s apartment. She had gained back her physical strength day by day and could now navigate the whole space on her own, extending one hand to follow the walls as she counted her footsteps from one place to another. Dressing herself was only a difficulty in that she had to ask the Colonel to hand her the clothing she wanted since it was difficult to tell one skirt or shirt from another without being able to see them. But she was learning that, too. The weight of this fabric and the stitching on the collar told her it was her red shirt, the shape of this button meant she was holding her black skirt. But it took time. As for actually dressing herself - and every other necessary “personal” thing that the Colonel had worried about having to help her with - she had managed them all easily enough not to cause either of them much distress. She had four other senses she could rely on, and they were beginning to fill the gap of the one she had lost.
She had grown comfortable with the Forge again, too, as she calmed down and starting thinking logically again. She was less afraid of accidently hitting the wrong button and transmitting video because she had a perfect mental picture of the Forge in her head as well, and could confirm it easily by touch. Anyway, she was always sure to keep her eyes closed when using the Forge, just in case.
That was what she had done when she called Scar that morning. She had asked him to come and see her at the Colonel’s apartment that afternoon, during a time when she knew the Colonel would be away picking up food at the market, a task which she could no longer fulfill. And despite the fact that he was rarely outside of arm’s reach for her and did not like to let her out of his sight - he had to see for both of them now - she knew it would take him at least a little while because she had asked him to buy some fruit and she knew he would fret a bit about not knowing how to pick out the best ones. Or even the right ones.
So there would be a little time. And she needed to talk with Scar about a lot of things.
She sat at the table drinking her tea as she waited for him to arrive. The dogs both sat on the floor near her feet. She could hear them breathing when she was very quiet. They, like the Colonel, had not wanted to leave her side much since she came back. Dogs understood things without having told, and they knew how much she needed them, how much better she felt when they were near.
When: uh... today actually
Where: Colonel Mustang's apartment... sans Colonel Mustang
Format: Intro is paragraph because I had to tl;dr. Tags could go either way!
What: It's... something. A reunion.
Warnings: Probably nothing.
Riza Hawkeye was many things, but none of them was a fool. She knew there were a lot of things she would need to do in order to take her life back into her own hands. Not the least of these was to relearn how to do everything without sight. It had only been a little over a week since she’s come back blind, but she had already figured out the most vital things. She was fortunate in her ability to precisely guess distances by sight - a talent which she could never use again, but which paid itself forward by giving her a perfect mental picture of the Colonel’s apartment. She had gained back her physical strength day by day and could now navigate the whole space on her own, extending one hand to follow the walls as she counted her footsteps from one place to another. Dressing herself was only a difficulty in that she had to ask the Colonel to hand her the clothing she wanted since it was difficult to tell one skirt or shirt from another without being able to see them. But she was learning that, too. The weight of this fabric and the stitching on the collar told her it was her red shirt, the shape of this button meant she was holding her black skirt. But it took time. As for actually dressing herself - and every other necessary “personal” thing that the Colonel had worried about having to help her with - she had managed them all easily enough not to cause either of them much distress. She had four other senses she could rely on, and they were beginning to fill the gap of the one she had lost.
She had grown comfortable with the Forge again, too, as she calmed down and starting thinking logically again. She was less afraid of accidently hitting the wrong button and transmitting video because she had a perfect mental picture of the Forge in her head as well, and could confirm it easily by touch. Anyway, she was always sure to keep her eyes closed when using the Forge, just in case.
That was what she had done when she called Scar that morning. She had asked him to come and see her at the Colonel’s apartment that afternoon, during a time when she knew the Colonel would be away picking up food at the market, a task which she could no longer fulfill. And despite the fact that he was rarely outside of arm’s reach for her and did not like to let her out of his sight - he had to see for both of them now - she knew it would take him at least a little while because she had asked him to buy some fruit and she knew he would fret a bit about not knowing how to pick out the best ones. Or even the right ones.
So there would be a little time. And she needed to talk with Scar about a lot of things.
She sat at the table drinking her tea as she waited for him to arrive. The dogs both sat on the floor near her feet. She could hear them breathing when she was very quiet. They, like the Colonel, had not wanted to leave her side much since she came back. Dogs understood things without having told, and they knew how much she needed them, how much better she felt when they were near.