Yes, I finally got in front of a computer again at the same time as I had inspiration to write something. There must be some sort of strange cosmic event over this or something. Have the poles shifted? The planets aligned? A new age dawned? No, Edward's just writing something for once!
Many thanks to Agent000 for the use of the computer and her kneaded rubber eraser which inspired this story, and to AdventureAddict for giving it to her in the first place, and to the spiders in Agent000's room which keep freaking her out but providing great sources of inspiration. ((hugs all, including the spiders)) Without any of you, this story would not exist today, though you might not regret it never having come into being, but the principle remains the same!
Ahem, on with the story. And no, I don't own the copyright to Fullmetal Alchemist, but these disclaimers are really stupid. If I'm writing this on a fan fiction site, that should be obvious. There, that's the end of my rant for today.
"Hey, Al, look!" I held up my newest creation proudly between my thumb and first two fingers, doing my best not to crush the little gray blob I had just shaped to perfection. "It's a little ghost! Boo!"
Al looked up from his book, huffed irritably, and rolled his eyes. "How long are you going to play with my kneaded rubber eraser, Brother?"
"Wait, wait, Mr. Ghosty has something to say!" I turned to look at Al, who seemed to be getting slightly annoyed at my ignoring his question altogether, but I pressed forward regardless. There was no way I was going to slow down once I had started. I put the little gray blob to my ear and listened to the silent whisperings of my creation, periodically nodding my head in agreement with its infinite wisdom and casting glances in Al's direction to see just how far I could take this before pushing him over the line.
"He says," I pulled the ghost away from my ear and held him out in plain view for Al to see, "To brush your teeth after every meal! Smart little ghosty, isn't he?"
Al didn't bother to respond to that, at least not in an audible way, so I pulled the ghost back toward me and began to stroke it with the index finger of my other hand. "Yes, you're a smart little ghosty, aren't you? Yes, you is, and you's so cute!"
"Brother..." Al interrupted, and I looked up, the grin plastered stupidly across my face, and I feared it would not be leaving anytime soon. "That is an eraser!"
"No, it's not!" I said, clenching my fist in mock annoyance, "It's my pet gh-" I glanced at my clenched fist just in time to realize what I had done before I had to make myself appear even stupider by saying what I had been about to say. My little ghost had gotten crushed in the mightiness of the auto-mail arm. The poor thing. Oh well, there was no time to grieve over a dead ghost, so I changed my wording and said, "It's a blob of meaningless grayness stuff."
Al stared at me incredulously before he even dared to reply. I bit my tongue to keep myself from laughing at this reaction. A good comedian never laughs at their own jokes. Well, I never claimed to be a good comedian. I never even claimed to be a mediocre comedian. Hell, I suck at it, but I have fun, and Al's reactions make it so worth it.
"Brother," Al said, "I use that in my art. Don't lose it."
"How could I lose it?" I said as I threw my arms backwards for emphasis. Unfortunately, Fate loves to pick on me and chose just such a time as this to pluck the little blob of nothingness out of my hands and send it skittering across the room until it bounced off the wall on the other end and rattled down behind a desk until it came to its final resting place somewhere amongst dust bunnies and cobwebs. It had to have died after going through all that. If it didn't, then surely I was about to, judging by the look Al was sending my way.
I put up my hands in defense. "It wasn't my fault, I swear!" Al didn't buy it. I cleared my throat. "Um...the wind knocked it out of my hand?"
"What wind?" Al had his book resting on his lap and was barely even holding onto it anymore. That wasn't a good sign. That meant he was giving me most of his attention and had nearly forgotten about the book. I had better find a way out of this or he'd be on top of me in a jiffy.
"Um...ghostly wind! Yes...Mr. Ghosty's twin brother came back to get revenge for my killing his little brother like that, and..." I ran out of steam, but I figured it was just as well. Whatever I was saying wasn't making sense, even to me.
Al raised an eyebrow, justifiably so. "How do you kill a ghost?"
"You saw me!" I said, and I held up my mighty auto-mail fist. "I killed it with my fist! I killed it, I killed it!"
Al rolled his eyes again and said, "And how was he his twin brother and his little brother at the same time?"
I rubbed my chin with my other hand. I hadn't thought of that. No matter. It wasn't something I couldn't talk myself out of, since it was Al. "They were fraternal twins. Yeah, fraternal. Didn't look anything alike. Big Bro Ghost was almost relieved that I killed the little guy because he'd always been so jealous of little guy's cuteness, but then he realized that ghosts are supposed to be hideous and scary, so he got mad at me for picking on the little disadvantaged ghost."
Al slammed his book shut, and I jumped at the sight and the sound of it. Now I was nervous. Al had completely forgotten about his book, and now had his full attention on me. I only had wanted part of his attention, not the full thing. Why had I pushed it too far? Didn't I know after all these years how far to push my little brother without going over the edge? Yes, I did, but I had such a hard time resisting the urge to have fun at his expense.
Al eyed me, an evil, dirty, Al look. A look which would make a mouse scream, though I don't know why Al would even want to make a mouse scream. Maybe he wants to act like a cat, and testing his looks on mice tells him whether he's succeeding or not. Anyway, back to my plight, Al was eyeing me, and I didn't like it. I tried to concoct another elaborate lie that was as transparent as a glass of water, but Al beat me to the punch.
"Brother, I told you to be careful of that, and I told you I use it for my art. Now please, either go over there and find that thing and make sure it doesn't have any hair or anything sticking to it, or go and buy me a new one."
I grumbled, but there was nothing I could say in my own defense. I never won when Al gave me a look like that. That kid was pure evil when he wanted to be, and he would never know it because I was the only one who ever got to see his evil side. Everyone else talked about his angelic nature. Yeah, sure, angelic until his kneaded rubber eraser ended up playing with the dust bunnies, and then he turned evil. I sighed and pushed myself up from my comfy seat, the couch calling me back to come and sit in it, and me sadly having to deny it its one true joy of having my butt planted on its face. I had a job to do, and Al would see to it that I didn't stop until I'd completed it.
I went over to the side of the room where the little gray blob had disappeared into the black hole I'd thrown it into and knelt down under the desk. It was dark, dingy, and whatever other words one uses to describe a place they really don't want to be. I cursed under my breath so that Al wouldn't hear and scold me and reaffirmed in my mind that Al was pure evil for making me chase after a stupid little gray blob that Fate thought belonged better over here anyway. If the ball was happy here, then who was I to judge?
I couldn't see anything, and I feared there might be spiders eyeing me and waiting for me to stick my hand in their territory so they could get a quick snack, but there really wasn't much to worry about. They'd realize that I wasn't very good for eating once they saw that I was made at least partially out of metal, and I stuck my auto-mail into the dark space and felt around.
Well, maybe "felt" isn't the right word, but more moved my hand around until I noticed any irregularities in the way it moved. I wouldn't be able to feel anything with this hand, but I wouldn't get caught in a spider's lust for blood either.
"Did you find it?" Al asked.
"Yeah, that's why I'm still under here," I said, "You know how much I love having my head under the desk. It gives me such a sense of...something. What does it give me, Al?"
"A few less IQ points?" Al volunteered. I nodded my agreement to this, then wondered why I had. I shook my head, but then realized it was probably too late. I sighed and felt around some more. Where was that little thing hiding, anyway?
Something bit my finger, and I momentarily panicked and pulled my hand out, only to start laughing once I realized what had done it. "Hey, Al, remember that little gift we'd given to the Colonel a while back?"
"You mean the chattering teeth he regifted to you later? Yeah. Why, are they under there?"
"Yep," I said, "It seems this is the ideal hang out spot. You sure you want to deprive your blob of its fun? It's probably having a good time down here."
Al huffed. He wasn't finding me very funny at the moment, so I sighed and went back in pursuit of the blob, still feeling around, still not feeling anything. Maybe auto-mail wasn't the best thing to use to find little gray globs.
A spider shot out from the blackness, and instinct took over as I whacked it with my auto-mail hand. I blinked in confusion for a brief moment, and then realized what had confused me. That hit had felt a lot softer than it should have. I lifted up my hand and looked at my palm. There, on my hand, was the spider, and under it, the elusive glob eraser. Now I understood why it had made the journey over here. It wanted to warn us that there was a potentially deadly creature inside the house even though that spider didn't look even remotely deadly, and it had given its life to protect us from the potentially deadly creature that didn't look even remotely deadly. Such a self sacrificing little piece of glop.
"Well, I found your eraser."
"You did?" said Al, his voice going a notch higher in the excitement scale. Great, he cared about his precious eraser, but not about his brother nearly getting mauled by a spider? Some brother he was.
I held my hand up so he could see what I had done, and said, "See? It saved my life."
Al gave me another one of his incredulous stares, and I would add the word 'disgusted' to the description of the look on his face. "Ew, Brother, that's just...ew. You owe me a new eraser."
I sighed and shook my head. Some days I just couldn't win.
Don't worry, AdventureAddict, I didn't really spiderize Agent000's eraser, just kneaded it. And then kneaded it some more. And then some more after that. Before long I was so addicted that I had to write a story about the joys of kneaded rubber erasers. You are my hero. You have provided me with something to do when I have absolutely nothing to do. ((Gives AA an Armstong-reminiscent hug)) Thank youuuuuuuuu!
Those of you wondering about Universal Overlap, um, I'm working on it, I'm just slow. Slow as a turtle. Slow as a snail. Slow as a clam. Clams don't walk. That's really slow.
Off to watch the clam race. See you all later!