Dog of the Military
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Author's Note: This is a short one-shot filled with the rambles of a particular member of the military family. Guess who.
By a twist of fate, I am now stuck in the military for life. My only job is to protect my precious superior and I'd willingly risk my life to do so. It may be small, but it's important. (And don't call me small or I'll rip your head off.) Anyway, I'm lucky that I don't suffer from work overload, unlike the good Colonel, who often claims to be a victim of it. My superior, colleagues & I seem to disagree, though. Perhaps he shouldn't have spent so much time doing stupid things like meeting me for private chats when I'm busy. It's not just him. It's weird how so many people come to me discreetly and talk to me about their feelings, problems and random things that I'm not interested in. I feel like a shrink.
I've had encounters with some of the military people (though not all were pleasant):
Fuery, bless his soul, is the one who brought me into the military. Although I don't work under him, I am grateful for his kindness. I feel sorry for him since he usually loses bets to Falman and ends up crying to me about all the money he's lost and how he doesn't have much luck. At least both him and Breda are in the same boat, so he shouldn't feel so bad. Speaking of Breda, that guy needs to stop all that tongue-wagging. He can leave that to me.
Falman doesn't say much and rarely confides in me, apart from the small chit-chat lately. My plan involving grins and big, cheerful-looking eyes is starting to open him up a little, but I'm still working on it. Although he enjoys my company, he did mention that he was a little lonely, so my next big plan would be to find him a girlfriend.
Armstrong is just a towering mass of muscles, so I pretty much stay away from him. The first time I saw him, I almost mistook him for the Amestrian Hulk.
The Elric brothers are great. They are like the brothers I never had. Al may be tough on the outside, but he's kind and compassionate on the inside. I really hope he gets to eat the apple pies he often talks about. Both Ed & I hate being called dogs of the military, so we can understand each other a little. I'm a little envious of his silver watch, though. Shiny things can be somewhat- okay, make that a whole lot- appealing.
Havoc is alright, except when he jokes about having me barbequed. (Seriously, that is not funny, Havoc.) Anyway, most of the time, he just sits and stares at the sky in a daze. Occasionally, he reminds me how jealous he is of my carefree life or rambles on about the girl that was stolen by the Colonel. Havoc's stench must have been the turn-off. I've always advised him to stub that cigarette, but does he ever listen?
Hughes is worst of the lot. He's always stuffing pictures into my face and telling me tales of his Gracia and Elysia, making ordinary things like hiccuping, eating, sleeping, etc. sound like epic feats. I do those all the time, but do I get any credit? The only nice thing I saw in those pictures were the apple pies Al mentioned, but I doubt I'll ever get to try them.
The one I spend most of my time with is my superior, whom I'm most loyal to, just as she is to her superior. She may seem very strict, but she means well. Nonetheless, I'd feel safer if she doesn't point her guns at me. Guns are dangerous objects. I once watched a cartoon on TV that had a line that goes something like, "Guns don't kill people. People kill people." Somehow, it doesn't reassure me much.
And last but not least, the good ole Colonel Mustang himself. My superior mentions him more than others, so I suppose he must be someone important. He often tells me he'll become the Fuhrer, but at the moment, he doesn't look like the Fuhrer one bit. I hope he doesn't become as frightening as the top guy, whose stench is even worse than Havoc's.
That reminds me, I still owe the Colonel one for shaking me like a ragdoll once. Perhaps a little pee on his coat will do the trick...
END
