She's...

[Al's voice is soft, but thick. Not with tears, but with pain that somehow is beyond that. A numbness, a helplessness. He normally sounds so together, like he has everything under control, but right now he's small again. Small and utterly lost.]

Mom's gone.

[Click.]

[Al's idly playing with the ruffles on his sleeves. He's been relegated to something in dark forest green, gold and white. His hair has grown by now, enough that he's tied it back with a green ribbon to match ( Read more... )

[There's a limit to how much one person can take ( Read more... )

[Alphonse is curled up by the hospital window, staring out it. Nearby him are papers spread out on a folding table, both typewritten and notes taken in his scribbling but neat handwriting. A chess set with a half-finished game is resting on the bed, where Al seems to have moved it to free up the table. A lunch is nearby, but it doesn't look like he ( Read more... )

[Al's laying on his back, in his bed in the Elric household, and though his expression is hard to read, his fingers are trembling just slightly, and his voice is a soft, scratchy whisper.]... how do we know what's real and what isn't ( Read more... )

( [Accidentally Recorded Transmission] )