City Rhythm - Chapter One
Title : City Rhythm
Rating : PG for this chapter.
Pairing : Er... None at the moment?
Summary : You know the story. You buy 'em when they're small and cute and love to be cuddled, and expect them to stay that way forever. Then give them a month or two, and they get big and territorial and eat two 50 lb. bags of kibble a day. So what can you do but dump your unruly, Oroboros-marked darling and hope it turns out for the best? This rendition is a tale of an urbanized stray Envy and a former housepet Gluttony.
It was an ordinary day in the city. Today's air was heavy with rain-scent, sharp and crisp amid the smells of human, of car exhaust, of cooking food and old garbage. The Envy curled up in his temporary nest, shredded newspapers and discarded clothing from the humans. He was wild, doubtlessly, with scars crisscrossing his body and his fur a little tangled, and obviously a city dweller. He never stayed in one place long, but he liked cities. It was easy to find food here, and there were few predators to worry about. No chance of meeting another Hohenheim, an encounter than nearly cost him an eye, but the problem was that there were few Edwards around, what with all the people and the single city library. Envy rolled onto his side, gazing out of the opening of the large cardboard box and yawning. The rain had just started to fall, he could hear it by the gentle 'tap tap' on the top of his box.
A weird smell awoke him from his partial torpor, and Envy opened both eyes completely as his nose twitched, trying to identify the scent. Loathe to leave his warm, comfortable nest, he watched the alley warily and tensed a little, ready to uncurl and spring if necessary. It was a somewhat familiar smell... Of course. Envy's eyes narrowed in distaste as he watched a small, roly-poly figure do an odd little hopping walk through his alley. A Gluttony. A young Gluttony, too, by the size of him. It was an adolescent, a little bigger than the average pup, but it was still about half his size. The red collar on its neck sent out a warning vibe, but his curiousity overcame him, and he scooted out of his nest and growled territorially.
The Gluttony made a sound between a squeal and a mewl, then dived for a group of trashcans. Envy winced a little as he gathered himself into a crouch, the metal containers crashing together as one fell from the little one's scramble. He watched the spot where the pup had disappeared to, and after a moment, a small head with beady pale eyes and a pair of pointed, furry black ears poked out from behind the can farthest to the right. Not making a move, Envy waited for it to emerge completely. The Gluttony is a very predictable breed; just as Envy expected, the juvenile edged out from behind the trashcan and plunked down on the asphalt, petite ears laid back in intimidation. There was a name tag on its collar, reading 'Buta-chan'. Envy did not know how to read, but he knew that this one had come from the humans. It happened far too often. A human would dump off an unwanted pet Homunculus after they got too hard to handle, or, in some cases, hand them off to an animal sancuary to be cared for and eventually reintroduced to the wild. This one was obviously one of the unfortunate ones, with his pelt clean and his form properly pudgy.
"So. You're a pet." Envy growled, thin tail lashing. The Gluttony cringed a little at being addressed, then made a soft sound of assent. Envy rolled his eyes and continued. "Do you know you've been abandoned? Eh, doesn't matter. You were. Do you have a name? Humans always call their pets something stupid..." True to his nature, Envy vocalized aimlessly while the former housepet cowered. The Gluttony looked up to meet Envy's gaze a moment before ducking its head and mewing out a name meekly.
"Buta-chan." The young one flinched a bit, almost sure that his answer would have him attacked. Envy simply sat there and arched an eyebrow.
"Your humans called you that? Tch. Makes sense, little pig." With that, Envy turned and settled back into his nest. He was more than ready for another nap now. The soft shuffling of the Gluttony's feet made him whirl around, and Envy bared his teeth as 'Buta-chan' settled, barely out of his reach, in front of the entrance to his nest. The young one cringed again, ears still pressed tightly to the sides of his skull.
"Get lost, piggy. I'm trying to sleep, and you're not welcome." Envy snarled, and the Gluttony made another pathetic mewling noise, the rain pattering on his bare head.
"Please, let me get out of the rain... It's cold and wet." He whimpered, shivering a little to illustrate his point. The older animal made a disinterested noise and yawned, unmoved. Envy simply didn't care that the pup was suffering, and flopped onto his stomach to keep an eye on the intruder. Buta mewled softly and continued to tremble, water dripping from his ears. The mewing was annoying, but Envy would have to bear it. It would leave eventually, wouldn't it?
Eventually it got quiet again, the only sound Envy could perceive being the sound of rain on his box. He curled into a ball and turned his back to the entrance, prepared to take his nap after the rude interruption. It was peaceful for a short while, and Envy drifted into semi-consciousness and quickly put Buta out of his mind. But up came another interruption, this more blatant than the last. A soft warmth curled up against his back, shivering and damp. He sat up and lashed out for a strike by instinct, catching Buta on the shoulder as he ducked his head. Teeth bared in a snarl, he felt his hunting instincts flare as he saw minute trickles of blood run from where his claws had scored deeply into the pup's previously unmarred skin.
Buta quivered, his blood running down his shoulder and his arm, and backed out of Envy's nest with his ears pressed back, returning to the rain. Now alone again, to a reasonable extent, the older animal growled warningly before yawning and curling up. That would teach the insolent whelp to just saunter into his nest and try to cuddle. Closing his eyes, Envy hoped that he'd at least be left alone for the next few hours, enough for a brief nap before going about his usual business of stealing food.
It was over the course of the next few days that Envy realized that the Gluttony pup did not want to leave him alone. Buta was always hovering somewhere nearby, knocking over trash cans or trying to mooch from passersby--humans were suckers for cute juveniles, even Homunculus varieties. Although it was irritating, the pup was never actually doing anything to bother him, which was further annoying. He was just there, out of reach and nearly out of view. Without much of a good reason to pounce on Buta and show him why exactly it was bad to follow the Envy, or motivation to waste the energy for that matter, he was stuck with the plump little shadow.
The pup began to get unhealthily thin and scruffy as the days progressed, unused to life on the streets. Envy watched the gradual change with some interest, a morbid curiousity of observing the Gluttony slowly starve to death. Buta obviously didn't know how to catch or steal enough food, and grooming himself also looked like foreign territory as he got grimy and his sparse fur matted. The scratches on his shoulder sealed up into scabs, then started to peel away into scars. However, perhaps the pup wasn't a total waste. About four days after Buta had first appeared, he had crept up to Envy with a large rat clamped in his jaws, ears pressed back and his pathetic fluff of a tail drooping. He was looking awful, his cheeks hollowed and the skin of his belly flopping limply from all the lost fat. Envy, perched on the lid of a dumpster, lashed his tail and looked at the pup disdainfully.
Buta made a quiet whimpering sound, then dropped the rat in front of the dumpster and backed up a few steps, looking up at the older animal with fright and with even a tinge of hope. At the offering of food, Envy decided to abandon his previous resolution to avoid Buta at all cost, and instead leapt off the dumpster and plucked at the rat's bloated side, the fresh coppery scent of recently spilt blood seeping from a slash in the vermin's neck. He eyed the pup a moment, unsure to eat the carcass in front of him to taunt him or to take it and eat it somewhere more secluded. Envy closed his mouth around the rat and got up, then dashed off to his den to eat. There was a glimpse of both disappointment and relief in Buta's beady eyes as he watched the stray depart, his tail twitching in a halfhearted wag.
Rating : PG for this chapter.
Pairing : Er... None at the moment?
Summary : You know the story. You buy 'em when they're small and cute and love to be cuddled, and expect them to stay that way forever. Then give them a month or two, and they get big and territorial and eat two 50 lb. bags of kibble a day. So what can you do but dump your unruly, Oroboros-marked darling and hope it turns out for the best? This rendition is a tale of an urbanized stray Envy and a former housepet Gluttony.
It was an ordinary day in the city. Today's air was heavy with rain-scent, sharp and crisp amid the smells of human, of car exhaust, of cooking food and old garbage. The Envy curled up in his temporary nest, shredded newspapers and discarded clothing from the humans. He was wild, doubtlessly, with scars crisscrossing his body and his fur a little tangled, and obviously a city dweller. He never stayed in one place long, but he liked cities. It was easy to find food here, and there were few predators to worry about. No chance of meeting another Hohenheim, an encounter than nearly cost him an eye, but the problem was that there were few Edwards around, what with all the people and the single city library. Envy rolled onto his side, gazing out of the opening of the large cardboard box and yawning. The rain had just started to fall, he could hear it by the gentle 'tap tap' on the top of his box.
A weird smell awoke him from his partial torpor, and Envy opened both eyes completely as his nose twitched, trying to identify the scent. Loathe to leave his warm, comfortable nest, he watched the alley warily and tensed a little, ready to uncurl and spring if necessary. It was a somewhat familiar smell... Of course. Envy's eyes narrowed in distaste as he watched a small, roly-poly figure do an odd little hopping walk through his alley. A Gluttony. A young Gluttony, too, by the size of him. It was an adolescent, a little bigger than the average pup, but it was still about half his size. The red collar on its neck sent out a warning vibe, but his curiousity overcame him, and he scooted out of his nest and growled territorially.
The Gluttony made a sound between a squeal and a mewl, then dived for a group of trashcans. Envy winced a little as he gathered himself into a crouch, the metal containers crashing together as one fell from the little one's scramble. He watched the spot where the pup had disappeared to, and after a moment, a small head with beady pale eyes and a pair of pointed, furry black ears poked out from behind the can farthest to the right. Not making a move, Envy waited for it to emerge completely. The Gluttony is a very predictable breed; just as Envy expected, the juvenile edged out from behind the trashcan and plunked down on the asphalt, petite ears laid back in intimidation. There was a name tag on its collar, reading 'Buta-chan'. Envy did not know how to read, but he knew that this one had come from the humans. It happened far too often. A human would dump off an unwanted pet Homunculus after they got too hard to handle, or, in some cases, hand them off to an animal sancuary to be cared for and eventually reintroduced to the wild. This one was obviously one of the unfortunate ones, with his pelt clean and his form properly pudgy.
"So. You're a pet." Envy growled, thin tail lashing. The Gluttony cringed a little at being addressed, then made a soft sound of assent. Envy rolled his eyes and continued. "Do you know you've been abandoned? Eh, doesn't matter. You were. Do you have a name? Humans always call their pets something stupid..." True to his nature, Envy vocalized aimlessly while the former housepet cowered. The Gluttony looked up to meet Envy's gaze a moment before ducking its head and mewing out a name meekly.
"Buta-chan." The young one flinched a bit, almost sure that his answer would have him attacked. Envy simply sat there and arched an eyebrow.
"Your humans called you that? Tch. Makes sense, little pig." With that, Envy turned and settled back into his nest. He was more than ready for another nap now. The soft shuffling of the Gluttony's feet made him whirl around, and Envy bared his teeth as 'Buta-chan' settled, barely out of his reach, in front of the entrance to his nest. The young one cringed again, ears still pressed tightly to the sides of his skull.
"Get lost, piggy. I'm trying to sleep, and you're not welcome." Envy snarled, and the Gluttony made another pathetic mewling noise, the rain pattering on his bare head.
"Please, let me get out of the rain... It's cold and wet." He whimpered, shivering a little to illustrate his point. The older animal made a disinterested noise and yawned, unmoved. Envy simply didn't care that the pup was suffering, and flopped onto his stomach to keep an eye on the intruder. Buta mewled softly and continued to tremble, water dripping from his ears. The mewing was annoying, but Envy would have to bear it. It would leave eventually, wouldn't it?
Eventually it got quiet again, the only sound Envy could perceive being the sound of rain on his box. He curled into a ball and turned his back to the entrance, prepared to take his nap after the rude interruption. It was peaceful for a short while, and Envy drifted into semi-consciousness and quickly put Buta out of his mind. But up came another interruption, this more blatant than the last. A soft warmth curled up against his back, shivering and damp. He sat up and lashed out for a strike by instinct, catching Buta on the shoulder as he ducked his head. Teeth bared in a snarl, he felt his hunting instincts flare as he saw minute trickles of blood run from where his claws had scored deeply into the pup's previously unmarred skin.
Buta quivered, his blood running down his shoulder and his arm, and backed out of Envy's nest with his ears pressed back, returning to the rain. Now alone again, to a reasonable extent, the older animal growled warningly before yawning and curling up. That would teach the insolent whelp to just saunter into his nest and try to cuddle. Closing his eyes, Envy hoped that he'd at least be left alone for the next few hours, enough for a brief nap before going about his usual business of stealing food.
It was over the course of the next few days that Envy realized that the Gluttony pup did not want to leave him alone. Buta was always hovering somewhere nearby, knocking over trash cans or trying to mooch from passersby--humans were suckers for cute juveniles, even Homunculus varieties. Although it was irritating, the pup was never actually doing anything to bother him, which was further annoying. He was just there, out of reach and nearly out of view. Without much of a good reason to pounce on Buta and show him why exactly it was bad to follow the Envy, or motivation to waste the energy for that matter, he was stuck with the plump little shadow.
The pup began to get unhealthily thin and scruffy as the days progressed, unused to life on the streets. Envy watched the gradual change with some interest, a morbid curiousity of observing the Gluttony slowly starve to death. Buta obviously didn't know how to catch or steal enough food, and grooming himself also looked like foreign territory as he got grimy and his sparse fur matted. The scratches on his shoulder sealed up into scabs, then started to peel away into scars. However, perhaps the pup wasn't a total waste. About four days after Buta had first appeared, he had crept up to Envy with a large rat clamped in his jaws, ears pressed back and his pathetic fluff of a tail drooping. He was looking awful, his cheeks hollowed and the skin of his belly flopping limply from all the lost fat. Envy, perched on the lid of a dumpster, lashed his tail and looked at the pup disdainfully.
Buta made a quiet whimpering sound, then dropped the rat in front of the dumpster and backed up a few steps, looking up at the older animal with fright and with even a tinge of hope. At the offering of food, Envy decided to abandon his previous resolution to avoid Buta at all cost, and instead leapt off the dumpster and plucked at the rat's bloated side, the fresh coppery scent of recently spilt blood seeping from a slash in the vermin's neck. He eyed the pup a moment, unsure to eat the carcass in front of him to taunt him or to take it and eat it somewhere more secluded. Envy closed his mouth around the rat and got up, then dashed off to his den to eat. There was a glimpse of both disappointment and relief in Buta's beady eyes as he watched the stray depart, his tail twitching in a halfhearted wag.