HAGANE NO RENKINJUTSUSHI
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Tsuzureori, Roiai 100 Themes
Tobu Ishi
post Mar 29 2005, 02:47 AM
Post #31


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Absolutely charming, Kage-san. Riza=1, Roy=...hrm. I would say 0, but I think he just scored, too. XD


--------------------

The Restoring Earth Alchemist
Big Sister to Chiyo, Little Sister to Tokage, Edward to WrenchFreakWinry

An Appetite For Grief Dividing the Bones Elysium FULLMETAL FOLLY
Good Neighbors Jaybird Letdown Mater Familias Mea Culpa Play With Me
Rosarium Seven Years The Shadow of Him Some Assembly Required Wired Wooden

<3 The EdWin 100 Themes <3
She remembers the way her inexplicably riveted gaze slid unbidden
down the curves of his back, slowly, like honey. And she particularly remembers
the rush of prickly heat, the unfamiliar melting sensation that made her duck
her head to hide a blush that caught her entirely by surprise; as she realized
for the first time, in an entirely new way, that Ed was a
boy.

Click here to read more...
THEY'RE STILL UPDATING! PLEASE DON'T FORGET THEM. ;_;
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Phyco girl
post Mar 29 2005, 03:45 PM
Post #32


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You always do such great work. I really liked #14 but all the others were wonderful as well! biggrin.gif
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hagane_no_tokage
post Apr 3 2005, 01:00 AM
Post #33


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sorry for the delay on this one gang. i have been busy unpacking so i can...re-pack. O_o


Roiai 100 Themes

#15 血のにおい
The Scent of Blood



He has never liked blood. His tolerance has increased since his days in the Academy, when the mere sight of a corpse had left the young cadet swallowing the bile that rose in the back of his throat; but while it doesn’t effect the urge to vomit anymore, the smell still unnerves him.


He discovered once that, like fingerprints and voice, (surprisingly) the blood smell of an individual is also unique. During one of his first missions in Ishbal, Roy had found himself in a tight spot: he’d been injured, leaving a trail of blood behind him. The wound itself hadn’t been severe—it looked far worse than it was—but at that time, even the odor of his own blood had been enough to draw the compulsion to empty his stomach. This was exactly what he needed… To not only draw the enemy to him, but to dazzle them with a show of what he’d eaten for lunch.


Then something had occurred to him. On that battlefield lay the fallen bodies of the slain Ishbalites. The stench of bitter, tinny blood hung heavy on the air; sour and pungent enough to make his lip curl in disgust. But…as he put pressure on the gash on his leg, he realized his own blood smelled almost sweet.

Odd.

He had pushed the thoughts aside then.


They didn’t resurface until a year-and-a-half later, when it was her blood that stickied his hands. He had been careless, and she—ever vigilant—had taken the fall for it. When she had told him once that she would take a bullet for the people she cared about, he hadn’t expected to be on that list.

This was not how he’d wished to be inducted.


Riza had squirmed in his arms, her eyes angry and her hand clutching the wound in her side. It wasn’t fatal; she knew this, but something about the look he had given her alarmed her.

That was the first time she had seen real fear in his eyes. And as he cradled her against him, gunfire ringing out around them, he smiled ruefully down at her.

“How appropriate,” he’d said, and she was confused. “Your blood…smells tangy, like oranges. Just a little.”

And before allowing unconsciousness to fold its wings around her and block out the pain, she had made a face.

“Shousa, you are so weird…”


He had pressed his hand over the wound, and then glared at the blood upon it, vowing that day that anyone who ever drew the tang of Riza Hawkeye’s blood again would pay by his hands, and pay dearly.


The scent of blood no longer makes him ill as it did when he was young, but he has always upheld that promise. And as he glances at her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze falls on her side, where beneath the uniform rests a thin, jagged scar from an old gunshot wound.


He has always kept that promise…and he always will…



geh, this one would have been better in over 500 words...it was like 700 before i shaved it down, and it flowed much better. ah, but this scene will be making an appearance in another story of mine, so i will be embellishing it there. i didn't really want to use the same scene for two stories, but it just fit this theme so well...so...consider it a preview? XD


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Guest_Guest_*
post Apr 3 2005, 08:53 PM
Post #34





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Flows fine to me. Ironic that we both hit themes that were frustrating to shave down at the same time--EdWin #20 was a Herculean labor to peel off over 130 words. The end result is quite nice, though. Impressive! <3
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Tobu Ishi
post Apr 3 2005, 08:54 PM
Post #35


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QUOTE(Guest @ Apr 3 2005, 07:53 PM)
Flows fine to me.  Ironic that we both hit themes that were frustrating to shave down at the same time--EdWin #20 was a Herculean labor to peel off over 130 words.  The end result is quite nice, though.  Impressive!  <3
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Whoops, that was me. happy.gif;;


--------------------

The Restoring Earth Alchemist
Big Sister to Chiyo, Little Sister to Tokage, Edward to WrenchFreakWinry

An Appetite For Grief Dividing the Bones Elysium FULLMETAL FOLLY
Good Neighbors Jaybird Letdown Mater Familias Mea Culpa Play With Me
Rosarium Seven Years The Shadow of Him Some Assembly Required Wired Wooden

<3 The EdWin 100 Themes <3
She remembers the way her inexplicably riveted gaze slid unbidden
down the curves of his back, slowly, like honey. And she particularly remembers
the rush of prickly heat, the unfamiliar melting sensation that made her duck
her head to hide a blush that caught her entirely by surprise; as she realized
for the first time, in an entirely new way, that Ed was a
boy.

Click here to read more...
THEY'RE STILL UPDATING! PLEASE DON'T FORGET THEM. ;_;
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hagane_no_tokage
post Apr 13 2005, 10:44 PM
Post #36


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Roiai 100 Themes


#16 届く声・届かない声
A Voice that Carries but Cannot Reach



He’s doing it again.

Riza scowls at his back where he stands staring out the window into the rainy afternoon, and sighs as she places her mug of tea on the table in front of the couch in his office.

He broods when it rains, and she hates it.

Brooding has never done him any good, and only done her worse. There is a rawness in his eyes when he frets like this, and it makes her squirm to see it. She wonders if anyone else has even noticed…? Everyone knows Roy Mustang hates rain…but she wonders if they know just how much those rainy days trouble him…?


She doesn’t know why, exactly. He hasn’t divulged to her the details of his past, nor does she expect him to. But while the specifics of his disquiet are obscure, the generalities of it are blinding. She has seen him pouring over old texts and newspaper articles of Ishbal; he clenches his hands and grinds his teeth as if he could wring from his very body the retribution for his own sins. She knows not what old blood may stain his hands, and frankly, she doesn’t care. She would follow him beyond the edge of the earth without a second thought, regardless of what skeletons lay in his closet.


His shoulders tense where he stands, and she bristles.

She clears her throat. She just can’t take this anymore.


It’s been raining all week…


“Sir…?” she calls softly, and her voice sounds deafening against the stark quiet of the pattering rain. It seems he does not hear her, and she tries again, a little louder this time. “Sir?”

She does not believe he is ignoring her. He is not prone to this. While he pretends to pay no heed to Edward’s reports just to get a rise out of the boy, Roy is a surprisingly good listener most of the time.

She rises from the couch, approaches him slowly.

“Taisa?” she tries again, and sighs when he still appears to be oblivious to her presence. This hurts her more than the brooding itself. He allows his past ghosts to consume him so that he closes himself away from everything around him. Granted, he only recedes so far into his own psyche when he knows he’s in safe company, and she somehow finds comfort in that…but that her voice does not reach him within his shell of repentance makes her insides burn painfully.

She calls him again, and when he makes no acknowledgement, she reaches out and lightly brushes his arm.

“Roy.”

He jumps, his eyes snapping to hers in alarm. She gives him a look, and he lowers his gaze as if in apology. She smiles and squeezes his arm.

“Coffee?” she offers. He smiles, nods, turning to join her in the short walk to the break room down the hall.

She falls silent as they walk.


At least her touch can still reach him…even when her voice cannot.

That’s sufficient for now.


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hagane_no_tokage
post Apr 17 2005, 02:28 PM
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u_u no comments for me. cha~ tsumetai na~

contains some episode 51 spoilers.



Roiai 100 Themes

#17 傷跡
Scars



She never counted her scars.

She has never felt any desire to number the blemishes she hides beneath her uniform, but for some reason, he feels the need to. Sometimes at night she hears him enter her room, and he’ll sit beside her bed, his chin resting on the mattress and one hand on her side, the warmth of it seeping through the blankets into her skin. She doesn’t open her eyes, but she feels his fingers slide up to her shoulder to pull at the blanket.


Tonight he starts at her throat.

His fingertips trace the thin mark that runs from the side of her neck down to just below her collarbone. That was from a broken window she had dived through to find him when he had been cornered in the back storage room of a warehouse. He moved to the shallow pockmark on her left arm. That was from the time she had been stabbed with the tip of a broken fencepost in her rush to climb over it to get medical supplies from the car. There was a jagged gunshot scar below her ribs on the left side, and a small, thin welt from a knife wound long ago on the sands of Ishbal.


There are many others… But none that he is bold enough to find tonight. His hand lingers on the bare skin of her side where his searching shuffled the fabric of her shirt enough to let moonlight illuminate her. She opens her eyes and looks at him. His eyes ache with apology he has not figured how to speak. She sighs and lifts one hand, reaching for his face.

She isn’t ashamed of the scars, nor does she blame him for them. They are a testament to her quest; Medals of Honor she proudly wears where only the two of them can see. They are physical reminders that a sacrifice of flesh is often necessary to protect that which is dear.

But he counts them. Numbers them as if they are condemnations upon his soul. She hates it.

Her hand finds his cheek, her palm moving to his left eye.


He doesn’t move as her hand rests over his eye, and he frowns at the look her face takes on when she does this. She feels responsible for the loss of most of his sight in that eye, as well as the fierce ache that still strikes his right leg on cold winter mornings. But then, those wounds were no more her fault than the scars she wore his. She absently rubs the crown of his eyebrow, and he takes her hand to lay it down on the mattress. He places his head upon it, and she weaves her fingers into his hair.

And familiar silence lilts through the blue light of midnight.


There is often silence between them…but that silence says more than any words they could muster.



Silence is all really that’s needed to heal scars between two tangled souls.



obviously, this one is speculation. outside of my own little folly universe, even at the end of the series, roy and riza are not living together, nor do they really show any intentions of doing so... but i suppose that's what's good about post-series writing, is you can speculate all you like and nobody can really tell you it's wrong. until the movie comes along and SCREWS IT ALL UP! i still can't believe they're separated! oooOOOoh, there had better be a damn good explanation for this!! and make-up royai will eventuate!!!! *flail-suru*


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Tobu Ishi
post Apr 17 2005, 03:59 PM
Post #38


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Cheers for you, Kage-san! This was really lyrical. Why is it that we're both so determined to scarify our female leads from top to toes? XP

In any case, another lovely theme...and I apologize for not commenting to #16, but you have my opinions on that already in person, you know?


--------------------

The Restoring Earth Alchemist
Big Sister to Chiyo, Little Sister to Tokage, Edward to WrenchFreakWinry

An Appetite For Grief Dividing the Bones Elysium FULLMETAL FOLLY
Good Neighbors Jaybird Letdown Mater Familias Mea Culpa Play With Me
Rosarium Seven Years The Shadow of Him Some Assembly Required Wired Wooden

<3 The EdWin 100 Themes <3
She remembers the way her inexplicably riveted gaze slid unbidden
down the curves of his back, slowly, like honey. And she particularly remembers
the rush of prickly heat, the unfamiliar melting sensation that made her duck
her head to hide a blush that caught her entirely by surprise; as she realized
for the first time, in an entirely new way, that Ed was a
boy.

Click here to read more...
THEY'RE STILL UPDATING! PLEASE DON'T FORGET THEM. ;_;
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hagane_no_tokage
post Apr 17 2005, 09:00 PM
Post #39


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Roiai 100 Themes

#18 「気づかれたくない」
“I don’t want to see.”


He needed to clean his apartment. Roy Mustang had never been a meticulous housekeeper…but there came a time once in a while when the piles of junk got even to him, and thus necessitated a realignment of his residential feng shui. Usually, the assistance of Hawkeye was enlisted for this endeavor, since she was the neatest, most organized person he could think of.

Anywhere.

Ever.

He had been to her apartment a few times, and had almost been afraid to enter, for fear of disturbing the purity.

But he hesitated to call on her aid today. Not because he was lazy, mind you (though that did sometimes account for the reason), but rather…because of something she had said to him last time she had assisted in the rearrangement of the mountains of…’stuff’…he had collected.

“I don’t understand how you let things get this out of hand, Sir,” she had scolded, elbow-deep in dishwater. “And what I find even more amazing is how you manage to rope me into helping you get them back in hand.”


He had chortled and made a remark that she was too good to him. She had harrumphed and set to scrubbing a plate.

“Yes, I am,” she had concurred, “and one day perhaps I’ll grow tired of how you take advantage of my generosity and what will you do then?” There was a grin in her tone. “You wait and see. You’d fall all to pieces if I wasn’t around.”


She had gasped audibly when his arms suddenly wrapped around her middle and he buried his head in her shoulder in a moment of what struck her as alarmingly out-of-character desperation.

“Sir?”

“I don’t want to see…” he had said solemnly, his words cheerless, and she had stood absolutely still a moment. She had flinched outwardly at the tone of his voice, and glanced at where his hair spilled onto her shoulder.

“Sir…I was just playing,” she told him, frowning. “I do have a sense of humor sometimes.”

He lifted his head and set his chin on her shoulder, his eyes closed, and there was a period of thick silence before she went back to washing the dishes, his warmth at her back.



He scowled at the mess around him. He wasn’t going to take advantage of Riza’s charity today…he was going to clean this place on his own! Without her help!


…this was going to be a terribly lonesome and wretched day.



He was about to start by tackling the stacks of junk mail on the kitchen table when there was a knock at the door.

“…Chuui?”

She grinned from where she stood in the open doorway, his jaw ajar at the sight of her.

“It’s been a month-and-a-half, Sir,” she said. “I figured it was about time to straighten your pigsty.”

He laughed when she brushed past him and headed for the kitchen.


What would his life be like without Riza Hawkeye in it…?

That was something he truly never wanted to see.



er...the kanji for this one can be interpreted a few different ways... this was just my take. thoughts?


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Poptart
post Apr 17 2005, 09:14 PM
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happy.gif Oh, I loved this one!
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hagane_no_tokage
post Apr 18 2005, 01:07 AM
Post #41


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Roiai 100 Themes

#19 理解できないこと
Things one cannot understand…


First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye is a smart woman. She has a deep-seated knowledge of many things, and is confident in her understanding of her surroundings and the environmental setting of her daily life. Perhaps the only thing she is not assured in her comprehension of is her superior: Colonel Roy Mustang.

She just doesn’t get him at all sometimes.


For example: When he has had a good day, he is energetic and vibrant; flamboyant and often silly. She does not understand this. What is the purpose of being goofy and loud? It doesn’t seem to behoove the punctuality of his paperwork. In fact, it seems to hinder it…

When he has had a bad day, he is dark and brooding; silent and contemplative with shadowed eyes and slumped, aching shoulders. She does not understand this. What is the point of dwelling on things gone wrong? Acknowledge mistakes, fix them, and get it right next time. Sulking never solves anything.

He procrastinates in his work—putting off the papers until he is left with no choice but to pull an all-nighter to make the deadline.

She really does not understand this.

More than once she has found him asleep at his desk at 2:00 in the morning, his head pillowed on his arm and a pen still caught between his fingers. This is not healthy, she thinks to herself, and goes to retrieve his long jacket from a rack near the office door. Folding it over her arm, she straightens the pile of papers on his desk and slides them aside silently, then drapes the coat over his back, her hand lingering on his shoulder.

“You’re going to catch a cold that way…” she chides softly. He stirs, groggy, his hand finding her hip and snaking around her back to pull her next to him.


Nothing is said as his arm rests warmly across the small of her back, her side against his neck as he rests, his eyes closed as her fingers tighten imperceptibly around the fabric of the coat over his frame.

While he is an enigma to her more often than not, there is one thing she is never for wont of comprehension: She will protect him, always. She will be at his side no matter what.

And even if it’s only a warm hand on his back and a presence at his side as he sleeps, she will offer him whatever assistance he needs, whether he asks of it or not.


This is her most precious of duties…and she understands this best of all.


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tempest_Strife
post Apr 18 2005, 06:07 AM
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I can't believe I read all of these and never responded before. Bad me.

My favorite by far was... oh was it #13 or 14? "I'll pick you up at seven." biggrin.gif


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RogueAlchemist
post Apr 18 2005, 11:52 AM
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Kage, I can't even begin to describe the agony of not being able to read updated themes from you. It's just bad, okay? Loving the caring and softer side of Riza in #19, as well as the Roy who doesn't want to see what would happen if there was no Riza in #18. Happily awaiting the next theme! XD


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hagane_no_tokage
post Apr 18 2005, 03:50 PM
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this one has spoilers for...i think it was episode 25 when we found this out... i can't recall exactly. the events surrounding the death of winry's parents. i've been so dark lately... come on, i need a happier theme! O_O

Roiai 100 Themes

#20 『人殺し』
“Murderer”



His hands shook; his palms slick and clammy around the cold steel butt of his pistol. He felt like he was going to vomit.

There were two forms lying prostrate on the floor… doctors, husband and wife, their bodies unmoving in the middle of an expanding bloodstain. The gun fell from his hands and clattered loudly to the floor as he stumbled backward. What had he done?

Later he would argue with himself that he’d merely been following orders…that since he had been told to kill the Doctors Rockbell, he was absolved of the sin. But no matter how he told himself this, the sin remained, like the damned spot of blood on the hands of the mad Lady Macbeth. No matter how he scrubbed or swore at it, the blemish of damnation would not leave his palms.


Those doctors had done nothing wrong…they had saved lives while he had taken them. They had bandaged wounds while he had inflicted them.


So why…hadn’t he been able to disobey the order to slay them? Why had he allowed himself to make an orphan of the little blue-eyed girl in the photograph they clutched even in death?


He knelt now, all these years later, at the grave of an old friend, his brow resting on the headstone, guilt still heavy on his shoulders. He had met her, the girl he had orphaned. He had wanted her to strike him. To hate him. To curse his existence the way he did himself.

But she hadn’t. She had merely looked at him with sadness in her eyes.

Somehow that had hurt more than any physical blow she could have dealt him.

His thoughts trailed away into darkness, and then he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Rattled, he jumped and snapped his head up. Hawkeye looked at him apologetically.


“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said, and he shook his head.

“Was I asleep?”

“I think so. You’d been gone since lunch…I figured I would find you here.”


He looked at his hands, then back at her. His eyes were cloudy with unspoken discord, but this was nothing new to her. She extended her hand to help him to his feet, but he brushed it off and rose on his own, silently moving past her and heading down the winding road out of the cemetery. She watched him a moment, eager to follow but reluctant to intrude upon his inner turmoil. Grief and guilt, pent up over years of silence, pulled heavy on his posture as he walked, and it made her ache to know he still mourned silently alone. She trotted after him and fell into step, three paces behind.

She knew what burdened his bearing, and even if he saw himself a murderer, she would still follow him… To the ends of the earth she would follow him…always three paces behind.


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hagane_no_tokage
post Apr 19 2005, 01:37 AM
Post #45


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episode 51 spoilers here.

Roiai 100 Themes

#21 懺悔
Penance


They are not without sin. None of them are. And none of them are so arrogant as to believe otherwise; Mustang and Hawkeye least of all. It comes with the territory. A soldier’s life is not a glamorous or passive one.

Perhaps it is in the brigadier general’s good eye that the most anger and repentance for the past rests. Or maybe in the lieutenant’s strong, steady hands as she re-bandages the injuries on his body. Possibly it lies in the electric solidarity between the two of them…but irregardless of where precisely it is, the guilt of bygone deeds rides thick on the currents of air that surround them.


A sad gaze, a somber frown, a crack in his voice as he greets her in the doorway, his good eye shining brightly with frustrated apology for something he cannot quite figure. A slight nod, a wan smile, and understanding silence as she takes a seat in the chair beside his bed and reaches out impulsively to touch the patch that covers his left eye.


He is still as she lifts it gently and presses a smooth palm over the injury that has not yet completely healed, and his good eye closes at the sensation of pleasant cool on the knitting scar. She purses her face and glares at the hand that covers the wound, as if she might conjure back his sight with her will alone.


While his current wounds remain physical and visible, hers are far less tangible. Her soul bleeds internally from rupture of poise, and her heart flutters and spears her gut with sour fear every time he grimaces at the pain in his leg.


Neither of them are guiltless. Neither of them claims to be.



But perhaps the wounds they carry inside and out are penance enough for them both…


hurray for shorth themes i don't have to shave words off of! w00t!


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