(no subject)
Ed's older and wiser, or so one would assume. He's 21 years old now, and he's supposed to have got it all figured out - who he is, what he's doing, and what the point is of even being here. He thought he'd had it, he really did, but then his life got uplifted and thrown into confusion.
What are you supposed to do when you think you've got nothing, and then you've suddenly got everything? That's the question that comes to mind, and it's one that he can't answer. It's why he ran up here when his feet hi5 the floor of the bar, and it's why he can't face going down there now. He's got his home, he's got four limbs, and now he's got the last piece - and all this means is that if he accepts it all, something's going to fuck up real bad.
It's a fact of life, the irony of bad luck, and it's the one thing that Edward Elric can put faith in.
So he's trying to face this place, and he can barely even face this suite. He's standing by the door, his hand firmly pressing it closed, as if by the force of his push he could keep everything away. But it doesn't work, and he's feeling more overwhelmed by the second. He pushes off the door, and considers the place, before aiming his foot at the wall and kicking it hard.
That's not enough, either, but it feels pretty good. So he kicks something else instead, knocking over a table. When all else fails, turn to violence - it certainly channels out something.
What are you supposed to do when you think you've got nothing, and then you've suddenly got everything? That's the question that comes to mind, and it's one that he can't answer. It's why he ran up here when his feet hi5 the floor of the bar, and it's why he can't face going down there now. He's got his home, he's got four limbs, and now he's got the last piece - and all this means is that if he accepts it all, something's going to fuck up real bad.
It's a fact of life, the irony of bad luck, and it's the one thing that Edward Elric can put faith in.
So he's trying to face this place, and he can barely even face this suite. He's standing by the door, his hand firmly pressing it closed, as if by the force of his push he could keep everything away. But it doesn't work, and he's feeling more overwhelmed by the second. He pushes off the door, and considers the place, before aiming his foot at the wall and kicking it hard.
That's not enough, either, but it feels pretty good. So he kicks something else instead, knocking over a table. When all else fails, turn to violence - it certainly channels out something.