Fanfic Meme
May. 31st, 2010 11:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristenskStolen from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
randomcheeses, who first stole it from someone else:
Post thefirst sentence a snippet of some one of your fanfics in progress in hopes that your flist can inspire you to continue working on them.
From my current major project, a Fullmetal Alchemist alternate timeline fic with first anime leanings... if that makes any sense. I'm calling it "Nameless":
Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist and sufferer of chronic headaches, did not enjoy mornings. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that he loathed mornings. Mornings meant waking from dreams he could never remember - though the fading impressions at the edges of consciousness assured him that he did, in fact, dream – to face another day of monotony. And, sometimes, mornings meant waking refreshed and well only to suffer the inevitable onset of pain as the familiar headache slowly built until it threatened to split his skull and send him home where he could find relief in sleep.
Of course, those were the bad days. Sometimes, there were good days. Days when he had a breakthrough and made progress in his research. Days when the headaches did not come or were mild.
And then, there was yesterday.
Yesterday had been… different, Fullmetal mused as he squinted against the pale light streaming across his narrow bed. And, not just the bizarre situation of his being entrusted with a real assignment. Yesterday, the headache had been oddly brief. He had felt it building toward the end of the first chapter’s worth of notes, but it never fully surfaced. Not like it usually did. And, not until he tried to remember if he had ever visited East City.
Frowning, he pushed himself up and slid his legs over the side of the bed. Dull throbbing near his automail ports announced another damp day, but he ignored it. Reflexively, he lifted his hands, one automail and one flesh, over his shoulders. Then, started when he found his hands grasping at nothing. That again. He lowered his hands to his lap, letting the left flesh hand idly run through his short hair on the way. His hair must have been longer once. Maybe he had worn it long whenever he visited East City. But, he couldn’t remember.
With a groan, Fullmetal looked out the window. The rain he had predicted had yet to materialize, but a thick fog blanketed the city. He scowled at it and stood, crossing his tiny apartment to find the bathroom. As he turned on the shower and stepped out of his boxer shorts, he let his mind wander familiar pathways.
Everything always came back to his missing memories. The first twenty-five years of his life were a blank. He knew about them. Though it had given him an agonizing headache to do so, he had read his own file. It had offered only flickering images that gave him more questions than answers.
“Mother: Trisha Elric. Deceased.”
Long auburn hair and a gentle, loving smile that made tears prick in his eyes and tore a gaping hole in his soul.
“Father: Unknown.”
The broad back of a tall man with golden hair who went out the door and never came back.
No other relatives were listed. And, yet…
A boy with golden hair and eyes to match who smiled at him, scolded him, called for him, screamed, “Brother!” as he reached out with a hand that disappeared under his grasping fingers.
But, there was no brother listed in his file.
Fullmetal shook his head before tipping it back to let the shower’s lukewarm water wash over him. In twenty years, he hadn’t found any answers. There was no reason to think he would now.
Besides, before he left the library yesterday, he had found the answer to the issue of the clock tower. And, for once, he had something to look forward to. Because he couldn’t wait to prove Colonel Smug wrong.
------------------------------
Darkness again. But, there had been light not too long ago. After they came to him, telling him he had to wake up, wake up, wake up quickly. And then, there had been light and sound – real sound, not just whispers - and for a second it had seemed that only a thin curtain separated him from the world beyond.
A world that was cloudy and indistinct and pulsing with danger. Sensing the threat was in front of him, he had prepared himself to fight. He had only needed something simple. Just a shield. Because even if he couldn’t see properly, there had to be ground at his feet, and he could use that to—
Then, the world was gone as quickly as it had come. And, they were telling him that it was safe now even as they urged him to go back to sleep.
“I wish you would make up your minds,” he groused.
He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to be back out in the light. Even if it was dangerous. At least it was something beyond this oblivion.
“Perhaps it will be time soon.”
Ah, that voice again. The one that sounded familiar. The only one that seemed capable of communicating in real sentences instead of senseless babble.
“Soon?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
It was a completely unsatisfactory answer, but the others were chiming in now.
“Soonsoonsoon.”
“Sleep now.”
“Sleep.”
“Soon. Promised.”
“Sleep.”
Weary of trying to follow the stream of nonsense, he gave in to their demands and let himself sleep.
-------------------------------
In case you were wondering, Fullmetal is 45.
randomcheeses, who first stole it from someone else: Post the
From my current major project, a Fullmetal Alchemist alternate timeline fic with first anime leanings... if that makes any sense. I'm calling it "Nameless":
Edward Elric, Fullmetal Alchemist and sufferer of chronic headaches, did not enjoy mornings. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that he loathed mornings. Mornings meant waking from dreams he could never remember - though the fading impressions at the edges of consciousness assured him that he did, in fact, dream – to face another day of monotony. And, sometimes, mornings meant waking refreshed and well only to suffer the inevitable onset of pain as the familiar headache slowly built until it threatened to split his skull and send him home where he could find relief in sleep.
Of course, those were the bad days. Sometimes, there were good days. Days when he had a breakthrough and made progress in his research. Days when the headaches did not come or were mild.
And then, there was yesterday.
Yesterday had been… different, Fullmetal mused as he squinted against the pale light streaming across his narrow bed. And, not just the bizarre situation of his being entrusted with a real assignment. Yesterday, the headache had been oddly brief. He had felt it building toward the end of the first chapter’s worth of notes, but it never fully surfaced. Not like it usually did. And, not until he tried to remember if he had ever visited East City.
Frowning, he pushed himself up and slid his legs over the side of the bed. Dull throbbing near his automail ports announced another damp day, but he ignored it. Reflexively, he lifted his hands, one automail and one flesh, over his shoulders. Then, started when he found his hands grasping at nothing. That again. He lowered his hands to his lap, letting the left flesh hand idly run through his short hair on the way. His hair must have been longer once. Maybe he had worn it long whenever he visited East City. But, he couldn’t remember.
With a groan, Fullmetal looked out the window. The rain he had predicted had yet to materialize, but a thick fog blanketed the city. He scowled at it and stood, crossing his tiny apartment to find the bathroom. As he turned on the shower and stepped out of his boxer shorts, he let his mind wander familiar pathways.
Everything always came back to his missing memories. The first twenty-five years of his life were a blank. He knew about them. Though it had given him an agonizing headache to do so, he had read his own file. It had offered only flickering images that gave him more questions than answers.
“Mother: Trisha Elric. Deceased.”
Long auburn hair and a gentle, loving smile that made tears prick in his eyes and tore a gaping hole in his soul.
“Father: Unknown.”
The broad back of a tall man with golden hair who went out the door and never came back.
No other relatives were listed. And, yet…
A boy with golden hair and eyes to match who smiled at him, scolded him, called for him, screamed, “Brother!” as he reached out with a hand that disappeared under his grasping fingers.
But, there was no brother listed in his file.
Fullmetal shook his head before tipping it back to let the shower’s lukewarm water wash over him. In twenty years, he hadn’t found any answers. There was no reason to think he would now.
Besides, before he left the library yesterday, he had found the answer to the issue of the clock tower. And, for once, he had something to look forward to. Because he couldn’t wait to prove Colonel Smug wrong.
------------------------------
Darkness again. But, there had been light not too long ago. After they came to him, telling him he had to wake up, wake up, wake up quickly. And then, there had been light and sound – real sound, not just whispers - and for a second it had seemed that only a thin curtain separated him from the world beyond.
A world that was cloudy and indistinct and pulsing with danger. Sensing the threat was in front of him, he had prepared himself to fight. He had only needed something simple. Just a shield. Because even if he couldn’t see properly, there had to be ground at his feet, and he could use that to—
Then, the world was gone as quickly as it had come. And, they were telling him that it was safe now even as they urged him to go back to sleep.
“I wish you would make up your minds,” he groused.
He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to be back out in the light. Even if it was dangerous. At least it was something beyond this oblivion.
“Perhaps it will be time soon.”
Ah, that voice again. The one that sounded familiar. The only one that seemed capable of communicating in real sentences instead of senseless babble.
“Soon?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
It was a completely unsatisfactory answer, but the others were chiming in now.
“Soonsoonsoon.”
“Sleep now.”
“Sleep.”
“Soon. Promised.”
“Sleep.”
Weary of trying to follow the stream of nonsense, he gave in to their demands and let himself sleep.
-------------------------------
In case you were wondering, Fullmetal is 45.
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no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:35 pm (UTC)Wait. . .if 'Colonel Smug' is Roy and he's still 14/15 years older than Ed(who is 45) , does that mean he achieved Jack Squat and never got promoted past Colonel?
no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:42 pm (UTC)And, I like Roy too much for that ;) He is, in fact, 29 (possibly for the second year in a row, but only the second!). It's mostly Ed's timeline that has been twisted around. Which means Roy is actually younger than Ed. *cough*fornow*cough*
no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 04:46 pm (UTC)*cough*fornow*cough*
Ooh! Now I'm really curious! *does happy dance*
no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 05:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 05:53 pm (UTC)*waits patiently*
no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 02:10 am (UTC)::beat:: Though... he's sorta not talking to me right now after the fic I wrote on him.
::beat:: Actually, I think he's after me right now. Erm... Look! A MINISKIRT DISTRACTION! ::runs::
no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 02:37 am (UTC)